by Timothy Zahn
Jack listened in silence until the K'da had finished. "What do you think it means?" he asked.
"I think it's fairly obvious," Draycos told him grimly. "Someone out there doesn't want a Judge-Paladin visiting this canyon."
"Or maybe they don't want him visiting the mining area you spotted outside the canyon?" Jack suggested.
"Possibly," Draycos said. "However, at this point the specifics aren't important. There was no one outside as I came in, and the shuttle's controls seem straightforward enough. We can be back at the spaceport within an hour and—"
"We're not leaving."
Draycos broke off in midsentence. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully.
"Uncle Virgil told me my parents were killed by an explosion," Jack said, his voice going dark. "That made sense when I thought they were miners. But I can only think of one situation where a Judge-Paladin would die that way." In the darkness Draycos sensed the boy brace himself. "I think they were murdered."
Draycos twitched his tail in a grimace. He'd come to that same conclusion the moment Jack had learned their true professions. "All the more reason for us to leave."
"All the more reason for us to stay," Jack countered. "Judge-Paladins aren't just roaming benchwarmers, you know. They have the authority to investigate and to even pass summary judgment in some cases. I'm apparently a Judge-Paladin now. Let's investigate."
Draycos sighed. "Jack, we don't even know what we're looking for," he said. "Not to mention the fact that all your detection and sensor equipment is aboard the Essenay."
"That just means we'll have to make do with our eyes and your nose and tongue," Jack said. "Hey, you're the one who told me that K'da warriors had the right and the duty to pass judgment on murderers."
"That was under K'da and Shontine law," Draycos reminded him. "At any rate, my prime duty is to protect my host."
"You will be," Jack assured him. "You'll be right here with me the whole time. Look, Draycos, it'll be a week or two at least before anyone can get here. Maybe even longer—that number your buddy called was a Barcarole exchange, and that system's nearly all the way across the Orion Arm."
"Unless they choose to spend extra fuel to obtain extra speed."
"Which assumes whoever it is even bothers to send anyone," Jack went on doggedly. "It's been eleven years, after all. I doubt anyone even cares anymore."
Except you, the thought flicked through Draycos's mind. "We should at least go back to the spaceport and try to contact Uncle Virge," he urged. "Let him know what we're doing, and have him standing by in case of trouble."
For a long moment Jack was silent. "Actually, I don't think the Essenay's here anymore," he said at last.
Draycos felt his neck arch. "That's impossible," he said. "Uncle Virgil programmed the ship to stay with you and protect you."
"Then where is it?" Jack demanded hotly. "Uncle Virge knew about all this, remember? He should have been buzzing around overhead before we even landed."
"But where would he have gone?"
Jack shook his head. "I don't know," he said, his brief flash of anger fading away. "Maybe Frost or Neverlin tracked us here and was able to nail him. Or maybe they didn't actually get him, but he's had to go to ground like he did on Rho Scorvi."
He inhaled deeply, then let the air out in a long sigh. "Or else Alison's taken control and flown off on her own."
Draycos hesitated, the automatic denial sticking in his throat. Ever since Alison and Jack had met, back at the Whinyard's Edge training camp, he'd somehow felt that the girl was trustworthy. That trust had only deepened during their time together on Rho Scorvi. It was hard to believe she would betray them.
But then, Draycos had been wrong before. "I don't think Uncle Virge would permit himself to be blocked or neutralized for long," he said instead. "He was programmed by Virgil Morgan, and we both know how clever and devious he was."
"Yeah, well, I get the feeling Alison's a lot more clever and devious than she lets on," Jack said. "But never mind that. The point is that whatever's happened to the Essenay, we've still got access to that shuttle out there. We can leave pretty much anytime we want to."
Draycos flicked his tail. There were some serious flaws in that argument, of course. But it was clear Jack didn't want to hear them. "And until we so decide, you wish to investigate your parents' deaths?"
Rolling half over in bed, Jack reached over to the nightstand and picked up the Judge-Paladin hat. "I can't just walk away, Draycos," he said quietly, fingering the hat. "I just can't."
"I understand," Draycos said, conceding defeat. It was still a terrible idea to stay here—every thread of warrior instinct in his heart was screaming at him to get them out of this place.
But he was a poet-warrior of the K'da, and his first responsibility was to his host. Jack wanted to stay, so stay they would.
And he really did understand Jack's need to do so.
"Hey, don't look at me that way," Jack admonished him, some of the darkness in his mood lifting. "It'll be all right." In the dim light from outside, Draycos saw the boy smile tightly. "Trust me."
* * *
Chapter 8
"Jupa Jack?"
Behind his closed eyelids, Jack frowned. What in the world—?
"Jupa Jack?" the call came again.
With an effort, Jack pried open one eyelid. There was a faint glow coming from the other room, but nothing any reasonable person would consider actual daylight. "I'm here," he called back. "What is it?"
"It is sunrise, Jupa Jack," the Golvin said. "Time to awaken and prepare for your duties."
Jack frowned. "What, already?"
"Most others are already awake and refreshed and going about their own duties," the voice replied reprovingly.
"Terrific," Jack muttered under his breath. "All right, I'll be right there."
"I will wait outside to escort you to the Great Assembly Hall," the other said, and Jack heard the subtle rustling of the fringe as the visitor exited.
"The Great Hall?" Draycos murmured from Jack's shoulder.
"The One said they'd be setting up a judgment chair for me next to his Seat of Decision," Jack told him. "Blast. The way Onfose was talking yesterday, I was hoping they'd take a few days first to translate all those case files into English."
"Or Broadspeak, as I believe they called it," Draycos said.
"Whatever," Jack said. "Maybe give us a chance to check out the mining area up there. But I guess we're kicking off the schedule today. I hope they're not expecting me to read that chicken scratching of theirs."
"I'm sure they've considered that."
"Maybe." Steeling himself, Jack threw off the covers and landed his feet on the floor. The stone was every bit as cold as he'd expected it to be. "Either way, I sure don't remember anything in the Essenay's encyclopedias about Judge-Paladins starting work before the birds are even up."
"Perhaps it's a local custom," Draycos said, peeling himself off Jack's back and leaping onto the floor. He stretched, cat-style, a quick shiver running through his scales. "I hope the clothing they gave you is warmer than it looks."
"I imagine the canyon will warm up once the sun is actually up," Jack said, heading for the bathroom. "I just hope this shower comes equipped with hot water."
"Is that likely?"
"It's possible," Jack said. "A lot of spaceship galleys and bathrooms are designed to be mostly self-contained—"
"Stop," Draycos said suddenly, his ears stiffening.
Jack froze in midstep, holding his breath. He didn't hear anything. "What is it?" he whispered.
Slowly, the K'da's ears went back to their usual angle. "I thought I heard a noise," he said. "Like someone scratching at the stone."
Jack looked toward the door. No one was visible. "Hello?" he called. "Is someone there?"
There was no answer. "I don't think it came from outside," Draycos murmured. "There was a faint echo to it."
Jack's skin tingled as he looked over at one of the whi
te stones in its between-walls alcove. "One of the shafts?" he asked.
"Possibly," Draycos said. "At any rate, it's stopped now."
Jack took a deep breath. "Well, keep an ear out," he warned. He started again for the shower—"By the way, did I tell you I think I've figured out what sides and uprights are?"
"The sides are most likely the political or social groupings which tend to face off on issues concerning the administration of the canyon," Draycos said. "The uprights are possibly those Golvins who have generally proven honest and trustworthy in their testimonies in the past."
Jack made a face. "I don't know sometimes why I even bother to talk to you," he growled. "Go eat your breakfast mouse meat. I'll be out in a minute."
The shower turned out to be gratifyingly hot. The soap the Golvins had provided didn't seem very effective, but the towel was thick and strangely spongy. Jack washed up, threw on his shirt and jeans, and had a quick breakfast.
And now that he was thinking about it, the meat did taste much more like fish than rodent.
After breakfast, he went back into the bedroom, took off his other clothes, and dressed in the robe, sash, duster, and boots of his new office.
Despite the Golvin's concerns, the clothes seemed to fit reasonably well. The boots were a shade too big, but not enough to be a problem. "How do I look?" he asked, holding his arms out to his sides.
"Very noble," Draycos said.
Jack looked sharply at him. But if there had been any sarcasm in the comment, it wasn't visible in the K'da's face or posture.
In fact, the odd thought crossed Jack's mind that it was just the opposite. It was almost as if Draycos was seeing him for the first time.
Jack looked down his front at the strange clothing, a flurry of not entirely pleasant emotions chasing across his mind. Maybe he was seeing himself for the first time, too.
Or maybe not. "Kind of hard to move, though," he commented, swinging his arms experimentally from the shoulders. He could play all the dress-up he wanted, he reminded himself firmly, but underneath it all he was still only Jack Morgan, fourteen-year-old former thief.
"You look fine," Draycos assured him. "Shall I get your hat?"
"I'll do it." Crossing to the nightstand,Jack picked up the hat and set it carefully on his head. He took a deep breath, again forcing back the swirl of emotions, and held his hand out to Draycos. "Okay," he said. "Let's you and me go dispense some justice."
Two male Golvins and a female were waiting on the ground as he emerged from the apartment and made his way down the bridge. "Good morning to you, Jupa Jack," the female said gravely, touching the fingertips of both hands to her forehead, the gesture briefly covering her eyes. "I am Three-One-Six-Five Among Many. I will be your assistant and reader-of-records."
"I will be pleased to have your service, Thonsifi," Jack said. Briefly, he wondered if he should repeat her gesture, decided against it.
"I am honored to be of such service." Thonsifi waved a hand toward the Great Hall. "Your Seat of Judgment is prepared. Shall we go?"
She headed off along the narrow path that led to the Great Hall. One of the males walked behind her, with Jack and the other male bringing up the rear.
Many of the canyon's residents were already hard at work, Jack saw. Most were tending the cropland, while others arranged cloth and leather and metal goods on small tables around the bases of some of the pillars. From somewhere in the distance came the rhythmical clank of metal on metal.
About thirty Golvins were waiting inside the north end of the Great Hall. As promised, a chair had been set up for Jack in front of and to the right of the One's own Seat of Decision. "Jupa Jack," the One greeted him gravely from his chair as Jack stepped in front of him. "You are ready to begin?"
"I am," Jack said, eyeing the chair with fresh trepidation as he walked over to it. What in the world did he know about judging other people? For that matter, what gave him the right to even try?
But he was here, and there was nothing for it but do his best. Bracing himself, he gathered the skirts of his robe and duster around him and sat down.
Thonsifi stepped to the right side of the chair. "The first dispute lies between Three-Seven-Seven and Six-Nine-Naught," she said. "It is a question of irrigation and water rights."
Two older Golvins stepped forward out of the group, one of them glowering, the other practically radiating pride and self-righteousness. "Describe the situation," Jack said, studying them.
"The wall of the irrigation channel that separates their croplands has become chipped on Thsese's side," Thonsifi explained. "Some of the water that might otherwise go to Sinina's land is thus going instead to Thsese's land."
Jack frowned. This was a legal problem? "Why can't the chipped area simply be fixed?" he asked.
"It can," Thonsifi said. "But as I said, it is on Thsese's side."
"And?"
"It is on Thsese's side," Thonsifi repeated, starting to sound a little flustered.
Jack nodded as he finally got it. A Golvin whose name started with Three clearly outranked a simple Six, which probably meant no one could come onto his property to fix the channel wall without his permission.
And since he was getting more than his fair share of water as a result, he had no reason to fix the channel himself. "What about the people downstream?" he asked.
"They are all lesser numbers," Thonsifi said.
Which meant that although they were probably getting cheated as well, none of them had the rank to go fix the channel either. "And this damage occurred when?"
"Six seasons ago," Thonsifi said.
Jack blinked at her. "Six seasons?" he echoed, turning to look up at the One.
The One held his gaze steadily. "I rendered a decision," he said. "Thsese appealed to the higher authority of the Jupas."
"And the last time a Jupa was here . . . ?"
"The last were Jupa Stuart and Jupa Ariel," the One said.
Jack grimaced. Eleven years with no Judge-Paladins in sight. No wonder Thsese had felt safe appealing his case.
Well, at least the game was over now. He'd simply order Thsese to let Sinina come over and fix the channel, and that would be the end of it.
But even as he opened his mouth to say so, he took another look at Thsese's expression. Radiating pride . . .
And suddenly he saw the trap he'd nearly walked into. These people had built their whole society on status and position, and on who could do what and with whom. Throw in their dependence on their limited crop area, and there was the potential here for long-term trouble. If he casually brushed their cultural legs out from under them, it would leave scars and resentment that would linger long after he was gone.
Still, even in places where status was king, greed was always queen. And if there was one thing Uncle Virgil had taught him, it was how to deal with both of those.
"Very well," he said, turning back to the complainants. "It's clear that through the extra water obtained for his crops, Thsese has been taking unfair profit from his neighbors."
"Yet I did not cause the rupture," Thsese put in stiffly.
"I understand that," Jack agreed. "Nevertheless, you did profit from it. I therefore decree that until the channel wall has been returned to its proper condition, twenty percent of your crops will be forfeit, to be divided between Sinina and the—"
"What?" Thsese all but screeched. He started forward, stopping only when one of the two silent males who had accompanied Jack stepped into his path. "This is outrageous!"
"To be divided between Sinina and the other landowners downstream," Jack continued. He gestured to his right. "The choosing and distribution of that twenty percent will be handled by my assistant, Thonsifi."
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Thonsifi stiffen with surprise. Apparently, she wasn't looking forward to invading Thsese's territory any more than Sinina was.
But most of Jack's attention was on Thsese, and the resulting show was well worth it. The older Golvin's eyes widened, hi
s skin wrinkling violently at this casual piling of insult onto injury. For a Three to have to allow a Thirty-One onto his land for the purpose of confiscating some of his crops—
"The channel will be fixed," he ground out.
"By sundown today?" Jack suggested.
Thsese sent a glare at the One. But he was stuck, and he knew it. "By sundown today," he agreed blackly.
"Good," Jack said. "Then I declare this case settled. Next?"
He spent the rest of the morning handling more water cases, a few land disputes, and one involving crops that had migrated from one plot to another. Most of them were quickly and more or less easily handled. A couple of them took a little more thought, and one was tricky enough that he decided to postpone it to the next day.
As the group in the Great Hall thinned, runners quietly left and rounded up the next batch of complainants.
There didn't seem to be any particular pattern to the cases. Jack wasn't being given the oldest complaints first, or those involving the highest-ranking Golvins. Certainly they weren't dealing with the most urgently pressing. His only guess was that Thonsifi had put some of the easier ones up front so that she and the One could see whether their kidnapped Jupa actually knew what he was doing.
Finally, thankfully, they broke for the midday meal.
"You're doing well," Draycos murmured from Jack's shoulder as the boy wandered along the edge of the Great Hall munching on a stalk of something sweet and crunchy he'd snared from the buffet table Thonsifi's people had set up.
"Thanks," Jack murmured back, glancing down at his shoulder before he remembered that the Judge-Paladin robe ran right up to his neck. "I hope you'll still be saying that when they start throwing the tricky stuff at me."
"Some of this morning's cases have been tricky enough," Draycos said. "You've had to deal not only with legal questions, but social and political ones as well."
"Actually, I don't think I'm doing much legal work at all," Jack said. "Mostly I'm just getting everyone to do what they should have done months or years ago on their own."
"Perhaps you're not so much a judge as a mediator," Draycos offered. "Your success here has been in bringing opposing sides together in a compromise."
