The Lawyers of Mars: Three Novellas

by Pam Uphoff

  "Oh, must be my imagination, then. Don't bring your cameras." She smirked at his exasperated look. "If I can get away early, I'll go ahead and turn on the pumps, then meet you at Red North Farms Station. Otherwise I'll see you on the train."

  Chapter Three

  Last moment briefings with clients kept her busy all day, but she ditched them to make the train. As soon as she stepped out onto the platform Trev and Vee materialized.

  They were both done up fit for a fourth millennium Royal Hunt, but with cameras rather than black powder muzzle loaders. She grinned. "I see you've gotten into the mood."

  "Absolutely." Trev forced a frown on his face. "You, on the other hand look like you're headed to court for a trial. This will never do for our beautiful Dry Scale maiden guide. You need to dress traditionally, for the pictures. After all, we do want to publish 'The Hunt for the Last Herfit.'"

  "Don't worry," Vee put in. "Trev says it will be a beautiful tea table book with full color pictures. He won't let me use it for 'Really and Truly Male Magazine'." He sighed, in mock resignation.

  She eyed them carefully. "Were those two stories of Elissy's really that bad?"

  "Yes they were, and yes, we are punishing you for them." Trev crossed his eyes and sagged all his spines. "My brain suffered meltdown halfway through, but Vee is made of sterner stuff."

  "I survived." The big lizard confirmed. "But it was touch and go at the scene where the Last Living Dry Scale Maiden narrowly escapes being ravished by—Miss L'svages! Such language!"

  "I am going to kill my cousin."

  "Oh, come now," Trev grinned. "In the author profile she talks about the wonderful bedtime stories told by her older cousin, and how it was only later that she realized that the cousin was actually the last surviving Dry Scale, and that she had passed the Lore of the Tribe on to her."

  "Slowly. I'm going to kill her slowly."

  For all the two males' camaraderie, Xaero noticed that Vee tended to barely glance at them when speaking or listening, his eyes always in motion. He stepped onto the train first, and Trev automatically sat where Vee could sit in a position to intercept anyone or anything aimed at Trev. He stepped off the train first as well, sweeping the area visually, then watching behind Trev as he exited. Neither of them gave any sign of even noticing how they coordinated.

  At the airlock to the tunnels, Vee started dispersing various devices, vidcams and ears, vibration and power source detectors. And relay stations, as the trail wound and climbed.

  Halfway to the cabin Vee grabbed his mask, and Trev not long after. She shook her head. "It's psychological, guys. The air down here is fine."

  "Can't be." Trev maintained. "These rocks aren't sealed. They're dripping."

  "The leak rate is very slow, I pump them up from the cabin every time I'm there, but really, they're good for nearly a tenth."

  "You pump them." Vee sighed. "I'm too much of a city boy for this."

  "Where do they run the electricity, water and sewer lines?" Trev glanced around at their obvious nonexistence.

  "Ah, city boys. The water comes from a natural deep crack, dripping off the bottom of the permafrost layer." Good timing; she detoured down a side crack and showed them the pumping equipment. "The power is solar crystal, and the sewage is dealt with through an isolated system that employs bacteria to break everything down and then releases the water in the shallow subsurface."

  They looked at her like she was insane, but they both looked over the piping and wires leading up and down the vertical crack.

  Nearly at the top, Xaero pointed out the three little caves that had furniture for guests and Vee selected the one with the best overlook of the last steep climb and dropped most of his stuff there. She popped the hatch and climbed through, turning to watch Trev's reaction.

  He was gratifyingly taken aback at the glassed in room and panoramic view. "I've never understood why the surface establishments didn't catch on," he said.

  She walked through the airlock and set up her solar power collectors. Both men followed her out, and up to her roof look out. They both took several pictures, until Trev, frowning, decided she needed some sort of "more dangerous" garb.

  "How about those boots and stuff you wore, when we met?" he said. "You look so mind bogglingly out of place in a business suit, and then you just stand there grinning, without a mask."

  She snickered. "All right, just this once. I'll be right back."

  Huh, he wanted a proper Dry Scale for his pictures, did he? Well, that's what he'd get, but not one that strangers would recognize. She grabbed her black marker and carefully extended her lower eye line and gave it a curl at the end, exaggerated the curl at the ends of the upper eye line, and then added two forehead stripes. She ringed each nostril with black and striped her muzzle. Then carefully stroking the marker along each spine, she striped her copper crest with black. A reasonable facsimile, not of Dry Scale warpaint, but rather the variation they used for celebrations. Not that cave slugs could tell the difference.

  She dug out her herfit leather boots, the patchwork rockhopper skirt, and the scale vest and frill cover. She grinned at her reflection in the mirror, grabbed an old canvas bag for her mask, extra oxy for the guys if they stayed out long, water, the snackish dinner she'd packed at home and walked out.

  After gratifying double takes and numerous pictures, she led them on a short walk to the nearest pocket. The widespread atmospheric water condensation from the icy body had revived pockets she hadn't realized had ever bloomed. She laughed at the city boys boggling over rockhoppers and cheepers actually living on the surface! Climbing onto a boulder she scanned the area and spotted what she was looking for. "Trev, on the far side of the pocket, see the three tall stones? Now look to the left at the low gold toned rock. Watch it carefully."

  She heard a camera click, and glancing over, saw that Vee was taking pictures of her and Trev. "Am I suitably dramatic?"

  "Oh, yes, excellent." He assured her. "And Trev with half his face hidden by his camera is perfectly unidentifiable."

  "That's not a rock." Trev hissed.

  The golden herfit had raised his head, watching them instead of the rockhoppers he'd been stalking.

  Vee spotted him as well, and dropped a hand to his pistol.

  "We're too big to eat." She reassured him. "He's a solitary, no chicks to guard. The attached pair I'll take you out to see tomorrow may have a few issues with us if we get too close to their nest."

  "Everyone is absolutely positive they are extinct." Trev was clicking away with his camera. The herfit twitched his spines at the unknown noise, then got up and departed silently. "He's fantastic. Does he hang around here?"

  "In this general vicinity, this year," she assured him. "There's another solitary with adjoining territory to the north, then the pair to the west. I've been looking, but haven't spotted any young trufems. They aren't territorial until they choose a partner, so they're hard to find."

  "You act like there are, well, hundreds out here." Trev was still grinning.

  "I have a rather limited radius of travel, so I really don't know." She admitted. "There's an older pair at the far northwest of my walking radius. I don't check often enough to know how many chicks they raise each year, so they might be the parents of some or all of these. But this male is new this year, and of the young pair, the male I've been watching off and on for a couple of years but the fem appeared out of nowhere last spring."

  She fed them, laughing as they tried to coordinate masks and chewing, and then led them back as the Sun set. The cabin had completely pressurized; Trev and Vee gladly shed their masks.

  "You go out all the time?" Trev asked.

  "Whenever I can get away," she said. "This is the first time since I got back from that-which-shall-not-be-mentioned."

  The delighted Trev kept them out most of the next day, filming everything from strange rocks to the cute herfit chicks with the bristling parents, Xaero and the sunset. Vee packed in record time and they walked (or l
imped in Vee's case) to the train station.

  Chapter Four

  Xaero slept in, soaked, moisturized and oiled herself for half the day then tackled a serious problem. Makeup for high society. It made her think longingly of black stripes. But with much less augmentation to her eye lines, deep blue powder on her eyelids, coppered powder everywhere else, a deep blue long split skirt with copper sparkles, matching frill drape and her sapphire pectoral she got a gratifying reaction from Trev and enough looks from other males to sate her feminine ego.

  Both Trev and his shadow looked right at home in their formal black kilts, boots and vests.

  The Annual Children's Charity Ball was held in the City Coliseum, tonight transformed into an indoor and outdoor maze of buffets, bars, well separated dance floors each with a small band, exhibits of previous years' activities, decorative plants and sitting areas both large and small. The largest dance floor was adjacent to the main stage, taken over for this event by a large percent of the Icefire Symphony.

  They entered deliberately during a busy period, but were none the less immediately surrounded by curious L'svages.

  "Trevi D'herio" and his business partner "Geri V'lel" handled the multiple introductions with ease. Xaero supposed they'd had plenty of practice. Trev turned away to snare a drink just as a vid light flashed. The local media was present on sufferance and behaved fairly well. But many of the attendees would have been irritated to have been ignored, or not have a picture in some media somewhere, so they were clicking away.

  "So, Mister D'herio, what do you do with yourself when Xaero isn't around?" Danca threw out the first question. Ears pricked up.

  "I'm a publisher." He informed them. "We've just opened a small office here in Icefire Met to tap into the local talent. The Imperial City industry has gotten trite and derivative; we desperately need an influx of fresh talent and viewpoints."

  Xaero twitched as someone kicked her tail. "Is that him?" Elissy was wearing too much makeup, too little cloth and her eyes were riveted on . . . Vee.

  "Geri V'lel is their periodicals editor." Xaero said. "Vee, this is my niece Miss Elissy L'svages."

  Vee looked at the starry eyed teenager with a flash of horror, but got his expression under control and bowed politely over her hand.

  "And this is Trevi D'herio, the senior editor."

  Who appeared to be suppressing a smirk.

  "Miss L'svages." He bowed suavely over her hand. "We were so impressed by your manuscripts. Your unique knowledge of extinct cultures gave such depth to your characters."

  Elissy smiled gratefully, but her eyes slid back toward Vee and . . . yearned.

  Eltona blanched at the sight of her daughter, though whether at the clothes, the makeup or the direction of her gaze was hard to say. Xaero would bet on 'all of the above'. Eltona was a blueblood from Imperial City High Society whose family thought she'd married a provincial hayseed.

  Uncle Hravi appeared by magic at her side, and was promptly introduced. His quick wits and social ladder climbing ambitions reacted in concert with his wife's and Elissy was quickly cut out of the group and deflected.

  Trev spoke to a few more relatives then ducked them and sought greener pastures. Not to mention privacy to laugh. "Oh, Vee, the number of times you've laughed at me when some babyfem fixated on me. Revenge! Finally!"

  Xaero snickered. Some girls, as they matured, had a hormone spike and behaved in a very trufem fashion. Some even egged. Trumale perverts who preyed on their temporary vulnerabilities were fortunately rare. Xaero had whisked through the phase without a single twitch of desire, but it seemed Elissy was going to be one of the difficult ones. Xaero hoped she'd move on to complete pseudofemness quickly, otherwise Vee was going to have a stalker.

  "I have no interest in that child." Vee informed the Prince, stiffly.

  "Of course not. But she has an interest in you. And this time you get to play dodge the baby. I'm going to publish her books in pure gratitude for the pleasure she gives me." Still snickering, Trev wound deeper into the Coliseum. They scanned the entire venue, then circulated casually. Trev was a well trained dancer, as she'd expected, stiff and formal which she hadn't.

  "He's never danced with a lover." Vee leaned over a bit and whispered much too loudly.

  Trev, flushing visibly even with his dark scales, glared at him and led her out for another dance. "He's right though. I've always had to keep as much formality between myself and a dance partner as possible." He slid an arm dangerously close to her spinal spikes and tried to relax. Xaero eased a bit closer, running her hand up his arm, instead of keeping it properly on his elbow. He twitched then snorted. "Sorry, automatic dodge response." He shot a glance toward Vee and stiffened. "That was fast. We have our first bite."

  As he steered them that direction, Xaero caught a glimpse of a rapidly retreating back.

  "Was that who I thought it was?" Trev asked him.

  "Yep Nase D'wuf, our main target's chief gofer. I gave him a business card, then he bolted."

  "I wonder how he got in here?" Trev mussed. "Was that a waiter's outfit he was wearing?"

  "Yep. I didn't get any details, he didn't stay."

  "So I noticed." Trev grinned. "Well, well, if our fugitives are so poorly financed they have to earn a living, this could be short and sweet. I'll have to rush 'Desert of Lost Love' into print."

  "Goodness, is that the sort of publisher you are?" the cool voice sneered behind them.

  Xaero winced. "Pasticha! How nice you look! May I introduce Trevi D'herio and Geri V'lel? Gentlemen, my cousin Ms. Pasticha L'svages."

  Vee perked up at the sight of a trufem closer to his own age.

  Trev shook hands politely. "What a pleasure to meet you. As a businessman, I find it wise to publish whatever sells."

  She curled a lip and turned to Xaero. "So, this is what all the fuss is about? A, ahem, publisher? Really Xaero, your tastes!" She shuddered and walked off without saying goodbye.

  Vee choked back laughter, wheezed out. "And that's another thing that's never happened to him before." He turned away, snickering, then looked back. "Snubbed!" He retreated snorting.

  Trev looked like he was amused, himself, and dragged her back out to dance again. And again, until dawn glowed faintly in the distant light shafts.

  ***

  "I want to know all about him." Elissy demanded. Her eyes were bright, but the skin around them was a bit puffy and red. "My Mother wouldn't even let me dance with him!"

  "Well, he is rather old for you, hmm, fortyish or a bit more. A trumale too, so really, once your hormones settle down you won't be very interested in him."

  "Oh yes I will. You know L'svages always," she wavered, embarrassed finally, but apparently for Xaero not herself. "Well, almost always mature, and often early. Look at Raelphi, he's only twenty-two. We hadn't even stopped calling him Raelphy before he went all the way. Maybe I'll do the same."

  "Elissy . . . "

  "You're just like everyone else! I thought being in Love you'd understand!" She leaped up and stormed out.

  Raelphi peeked in, then entered at her wave. "I'm afraid to ask who she's fixated on."

  "Someone her parents would deem inappropriate, even if she was a decade older."

  Raelphi bit his lip. "One of them?" he assayed cautiously.

  She glanced at the door and lowered her voice. "Remember the Very Large Lizard?"

  "Oh, sand!" he hissed. "Aunt Xaero, why did they come here? Never mind, I don't want to know." He slapped a folder down on her desk. "I wanted to ask you about these names that seems to be the final legal owners of the entire Sun Town Resort."

  She looked at the short list. "L'azlod. How unfortunate. Hmm, Meau N'cerak is Silver right?"

  "Yeah, and Kaulo T'kat is Gold, it's these other eight I can't find records for, anywhere." He looked at her uncertainly. "You need to stay away from him, cut off all contact. But, but, if you're seeing him anyway . . . "

  "I'll ask," she told him. Poor kid thought she wa
s risking arrest. "They're getting busy, it is a real business after all, so I won't see much of him anyway, and I'll sort of ease out of contact."

  He nodded uncertainly.

  As soon as he was gone, she keyed out a quick publishing contract in straightforward language and sent it off to Trev's private comp connection. Not that he couldn't hunt one down himself. She added the eight unknown names with an explanation as the last page.

  His reply came quickly. [Thanks for the contract, I'll have it ready for Elissy this afternoon. Two of the names are aliases of mine, one is L'azlod, the other five are environmentalists like S&G, not involved in the rough stuff. Tell them they're Rock, Sweep, Clean Girl, Runner and Platinum. They could probably contact them through one of the Red Ever Mars offices, but they probably ought to wait until those nasty criminals Traveler and L'azlod are dealt with. No cheepers gigged yet.]

  So their brief contact at the party hadn't produced immediate results. But then it was early in the day, and she had work of her own to finish.

  Chapter Five

  "Excuse me, Miss?"

  Xaero glanced back as she stepped onto the train car. An older Lizard boarded behind her, with more people crowding behind. She walked back far enough to not be blocking the door area and eyed the Wisdom cautiously.

  "I need to talk to you, I think we have some mutual friends." He nervously smoothed his long elegant muzzle spines, twirling them together at the end. "Metini L'azlod, Blozolli C'dasl and, umm the gentleman you were dancing with last night."

  "I'm a lawyer, I've represented both L'azlod and C'dasl." She replied cautiously. Oh sand! I never thought, but I was on display as well!

  "Yes, well I'm out of touch with my friends just now and need a bit of help." The man said.

  "I can put you in touch with my dance partner." She offered, looking down and fishing in her briefcase for one of the cards he'd given her.