"I did the best I could, kid," I whispered. "I'm sorry."
At first that dull, you can't hurt me, look came into her eyes. Then a fat tear spilled down her cheek. She took the camera and disk holder and placed them in her kit bag without looking at them.
I turned away as my eyes began burning. I wondered if I'd have any dying words. I pushed the notion out of my head and decided to keep my mouth shut. All I'd have to do to confuse things forever would be to go down a dirty cop, convicted murderer, and burgered perp hollering like Nelson, "Thank God, I have done my duty!" Maybe I'd say it to myself, though.
The crowd became very quiet as I stood next to the fire and faced Ratt. He was nervously nibbling at the skin on the insides of his lips. "It's just another case," I said in a low voice. He didn't act like he heard me. Above us all, high in the sky, were the Eyes of the Spider.
I'd turned it over to the Spider and St. Rock. Now it was time to take my medicine. "My name is Bando Nicos," I yelled. "I'm chief—"
The words stuck in my throat. I reached up with my right hand and wrapped my fingers around the metal star Stays'd made for me as a joke. I turned it over in my fingers and tossed it to the ground. "I murdered a man."
I repeated it in a louder voice so the crowd could hear. "I murdered a man." I tried to remember his name, but it was gone. "I don't know his name. He was just called Prophet."
"William Justice," called a voice from the crowd.
I nodded. "William Justice," I repeated. The crowd was very quiet. They knew the law. "The payback for murder is the max."
I faced Ratt. "That's it. You got everything you need. Let's get it done."
"This is the job you picked for me?"
"Of course, this is the job. Make burger, kid."
I closed my eyes and waited for the slugs to rip through my guts. It seemed to be taking one hell of a long time.
I opened my eyes and looked at the kid. Ratt had his rifle in his hands, the muzzle pointed at my feet. I pointed at my chest. "Don't you think you ought to aim a little higher?"
Ratt stared at me for a few seconds. He pursed his lips, slung his rifle, and said, "I want a jury."
"You want a what?"
"A jury." He repeated it more loudly for the crowd. "I want a jury for this!"
"You don't get a jury for this case, kid! That's my pick. Now get on with the burger!"
Ratt looked me in the eyes as he pulled out some papers. Without looking at them he said, "Rule 20. 'Anyone in a dispute can demand a jury trial instead of letting the investigator settle the issue.'"
I lowered my voice. "Quit clowning around, kid. Nobody is disputing anything. Prophet's dead and I'm guilty. Nobody's arguing the thing."
"Maybe," said Ratt as he stuffed the papers back in his pocket. "But the rule says anyone, and as the investigator, I figure I'm in the dispute. I'm an anyone. If I'm supposed to ventilate your hide, Chief, I want to be certain you're guilty."
He hollered out at the crowd, "I want a jury for this, so anyone who wants to be on this jury, line up here and grab some pebbles."
Ratt pointed off to his left and it seemed like the entire crowd moved forward to be on the jury. I gave out with an involuntary cry of protest when I saw Mercy Jane, Lauris, Grahl, and some others head for the front of the line. "Leave it to a hermaphrodite to take a simple execution and complicate the hell out of it!" I shouted. No one, particularly Ratt, seemed to have heard.
Instead of sand, Ratt was doing one pebble, two pebbles, no pebbles, holding out his hand, tossing out those in the jury line who opened his or her hand and matched what was in his. Lauris was first in line, she matched, and was bounced. Mercy Jane and Grahl were taken into the jury, along with Deadeye and ten squats I didn't even know. Most of them looked like Comini's soldiers, except for one chop who wore Lee blue.
A headache leaped into my skull as I began to panic. If this thing was dragged out long enough, Nance might make it here before I was done. Another thought crowded in. If the jury should somehow find me not guilty, that would be the end of the Law. It would become something else. It would be just like Kegel, Lee, or Carlo: the squats follow the rules, the mokkers get to do whatever the hell they want.
It would be a bum jury, and everybody would know it. Everyone would be waiting to see what the RCs would do. They probably would expect the RCs to let the jury off, even though it would cripple the law.
Maybe the jury would do the right thing. They were Razai. They knew the Law. They had fought and killed for it. The headache drove the questions out of my skull. I throw the dice. How the spots come up isn't mine to say, unless I rig the game. I squinted as I looked at Ratt. Had he rigged it?
When the jury squatted and sat on the ground between us and across from the fire, I squatted, as well. My head and my leg were killing me. All I wanted right then was for the damned thing to be finished. Damn, I thought, it would've been simpler to off myself and leave a note.
I was wallowing so deep in my own head I missed something. The crowd was buzzing, everyone looking toward the main avenue. "Hold everything!" called out someone.
From the shouts and the sounds of critter hooves on the rocks, I knew what was coming. It had dragged out too long. I stood up and turned away from the noise. I heard the familiar voice of Nance Damas ragging someone's ass. I turned to face her. She was entering the circle with murder in her eye as more critter riders rode up and dismounted. She was covered with yellow dust and had a scab on the left side of her chin. I squatted down, folded my arms, and rested them on my knees.
Ratt announced to everyone, "Nance Damas will speak as a friend of the court."
Nance turned around slowly, looking over the faces one at a time. When she got to the jury she examined them with special care. "Is there anybody here," she said to the jury, "who doesn't know how important the Law is?"
The entire crowd was as quiet as Manson's parole board. Nance shouted at the whole assembly, "Is there anybody here who doesn't know how important to the Law Bando Nicos is?"
I pushed myself to my feet, my headache making me weave. "Enough," I said to Nance. Turning to Ratt, I pointed a finger at him and said, "Read your Law, kid. Justice in the Razai is everybody getting exactly what they deserve as fast as possible." I faced Nance. "Testimonials got nothin' to do with justice. They just slow things down, and that's against the Law." I lowered my voice and spoke to the pair. "Grab some brights! If you make an exception out of me, the Law's dead! Everything we fought for is dead!"
Nance walked over and stopped in front of me. "I thought we agreed that you'd let me handle this."
"I decided to let the Law handle it." I scratched my neck as I realized I'd never get another chance to say it. "By the way, congratulations. Your plan worked. We now got two or three million people and an area thousands of keys wide under the Law. Don't blow it now."
She stared at me for a couple of seconds, then pivoted and faced the jury. Loud enough for all to hear, she asked, "Why'd you kill Prophet, Bando?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It'd make a difference if Prophet was trying to kill you, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah. Okay, that's an exception. But Prophet wasn't trying to kill me. He was just laughing."
"What was he laughing at?"
"It doesn't matter." I looked down at the jury. "He was a crazy, sick, old man. He made a crack and laughed at the wrong time, so I killed him."
"You mean, you were crazy, too?" asked Ratt.
"It doesn't make any difference." I turned around, explaining to everyone on the hills as I turned. "You know the Mad Dog Rule. The Law is for people who don't have to kill. The Law's for those who have the choice not to kill. I admit it. I went crazy out there and killed Prophet, just like a Cici perp named Yvonne did when she got a knife in her hand. Some of you were there. All it means is I do max payback, just like I took from Yvonne." I looked at Nance.
"I don't think you're crazy," she said.
"If that's true," I answered, "the
n I'm just a plain killer. Prophet made a joke, and I souped his head for it. I picked up a rock and pulped his melon for laughing."
"Must've been a pretty bad joke," Ratt commented, prompting a roll of laughter through the crowd. "What was it?"
"What're you talking about, kid?"
Nance nodded. "Ratt wants to know what the joke was." She looked at Ratt for a second, then returned to looking at the jury. "I can only tell you what I saw and heard, and that had to do with what went on right before Bando killed the deputy. Bando knew his Alna'd been tortured and raped by Kegel." She turned her head toward me. I looked her in the eyes, but couldn't see anything for the tears. "Then in front of Alna, Boss Kegel raped Bando."
It was dead quiet. I could hear my own breathing. I didn't want them to know that part. I could've gone out better without them knowing that part.
"Bando tried to kill himself," Nance continued. "But it didn't work out."
"Nance, this's got nothing to do with anything. Killing is killing and payback is the max."
Nance wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "The next morning Bando saw his Alna dead. They'd strung her up by her own guts and there wasn't a thing he could do about it except hold it in, hoping he could make it back to the Razai and get help. He and Prophet left Kegel's camp together. Bando?"
"What?"
"After you two left the camp, what did Prophet say out there on the trail?"
"It doesn't matter. I keep telling you, it doesn't matter." I turned away, my back toward Ratt, Nance, and the jury. No gun, no ice pick. Could I grab Ratt's piece? Would he have his auto nut in it?
"What'd he do, Bando?"
Prophet's ghost stood before me, that scraggly white-bearded face wrinkled with mirth. He shook his head and laughed again. Reaching up his hand to dry his tears, he said, "For the love of Jesus ..."
"He laughed," I answered, my voice thick. "He laughed and he said, 'For the love of Jesus, Bando, did you see what they did to that nigger wench? Did you hear her scream?' And he laughed again. I couldn't believe what I'd heard. So I asked him what he said. 'They hung … they hung that little nigger bitch up by her guts, and Jesus, you should've seen her beg and scream.' Then he said he'd never seen anything like it. And he laughed. I killed him. I strangled him first. It wasn't enough. I had to kill him more. I had to kill him a million times over. I picked up a rock—big rock—and I souped his head."
I turned back so that I was facing the jury. "I murdered him." I looked at Nance. "I murdered him." I looked at Ratt. "I murdered him. According to the law and everything we've fought for, I murdered him. Now, I've had enough of this shit, cupcake. Let's have some justice. Payback for Prophet."
There were a few isolated cheers in reaction to my demand. Mercy Jane stood up and said quietly, "The jury wants some time to deliberate."
"You don't need any time," I declared. "I did it!"
"We'll take all the time we need," said Mercy Jane. "It's the law."
"I can prove it if I have to. I got Prophet's blood and think goo all over the inside of my sheet. What's more, I think I have a witness. I'm pretty sure Ondo Suth saw what happened. If you try and pull something, and he comes back and says I did it, you all know you get it in the head, right? You remember the First Bad Call Rule? Rule 24? You let a guilty man off the hook, you die? Remember what happened to that jury who let their buddy Ton Bakong off the hook? They're maggot chow!"
The hermaphrodite nodded and said, "Take whatever time you need."
Mercy Jane gave me a strange look, then the whole jury picked up and moved about twenty feet away. They squatted down again and began mumbling among themselves. They kept that up for five or ten minutes as the background of chatter from the crowd grew into a roar. In the meantime I noticed that Margo had gotten back from the mission I had sent her on. She was with Martin Stays and Marietta. Margo started to walk toward me, but I shook my head and she stopped.
Nance got together with Ratt, Stays, Margo, and Marietta and filled them in on the details. A few minutes later Marantha Silver, Herb Ollick, and Minnie McDavies showed up and joined the briefing. Shortly after Ratt moved away from the others to await the verdict, generals began showing up. Hell, somebody must've been selling tickets.
After a bit, someone in the jury passed out pieces of paper to the rest. A few of the jurors wrote for a bit, and I saw one person writing for someone who couldn't. While the writing was going on they talked some more, I heard one of them cry, then the whole bunch was up hugging and kissing each other.
I glared at Ratt. "What the hell is going on?"
He just looked bewildered. I looked at Nance and her back was toward me as she walked toward the edge of the crowd. Stays was standing there, rubbing his eyes.
From where the jury stood, Mercy Jane called out, "We're ready."
Silence came over the crowd like a switch being thrown. "What's the verdict?" asked Ratt.
She was grim faced as she declared, "We find Bando Nicos not guilty."
The crowd erupted in cheers mixed with screams of outrage. One of those screams of outrage was mine. I had those zebras half way to my mouth when my hand was clamped in a grip like a bear trap. The hand was big and black. "Let go of me! Let go!"
I looked up and saw Marietta. The crowd became silent again. Marietta wasn't looking at me. She was looking toward the jury.
"Check that out, Pancho." The tears came into her voice. "Before you ride that zebra, Bando, you go say goodbye to the nice people."
She let go of my hand. I turned around and looked. Some of the jury was down on the ground. I saw two of them put something into their mouths, then they lowered themselves to the ground.
"No," I whispered, not even allowing myself to understand what was taking place before my eyes. "No." I half walked, half ran toward them as I told them, "No." Mercy Jane was face up to the Spider.
"You gave 'em zebras," I said to Mercy Jane's motionless form as I grabbed her collar. "What did you think you were doing? What in God's name did you think you were saving?" I sank down on my knees. "We can't afford to lose a doctor."
The thirteen men and women were crumpled up against each other on the grass. For the first time Mercy Jane's face looked soft, relaxed. Her shirt still carried those faded bloodstains. Deadeye was down next to her, his right hand and her left hand clasped together. I couldn't understand it. I couldn't make it register. Deadeye had no feelings. He believed in nothing. I'd killed his brother.
I looked up and saw Marantha standing next to me. "They can't do this." I looked back at the jury. Lewis Grahl was there, his head resting peacefully on Deadeye's lap. He knew the law. I bent over and grabbed his sheet and began shaking him. "Why'd you do it, cockroach! Why'd you do this? Why'd you tell them how to get me off?"
That was the only out, and Grahl had found it. All you needed to do was find thirteen jerks who were willing to exchange their lives for yours.
I dropped him and stood up, my gaze falling on Deadeye. "I killed your brother, man. What the hell's the matter with you?" I saw a face I didn't know. Young kid. I didn't want to see any more faces. I lifted the capsules to my mouth to take my own suck off the big zebra.
"You want this to be for nothing?" someone shouted.
I weaved on my feet as I lifted my head. "It already is for nothing," I answered.
"No it isn't."
Forcing my eyes to focus, I saw Martin Stays standing on the opposite side of the dead jurors. He was looking down at me, his hands in his pockets. "You bastard," I said. "You knew about this all along. You knew about this when Margo and me hit you and Nance with the news about Comini."
"I knew something, but not what you think." He pointed a finger at me. "You don't know anything."
Digging the heels of my palms into my aching eyes, I whispered to him, "Get 'em out of here. Get 'em all away from me. The judicial process is over. They don't get to see anymore."
I looked down at Deadeye, Grahl, Mercy Jane, and ten strangers. I remembered Me
rcy Jane back in Kegel's tent, slapping my face, telling me to stop blubbering. Again, stroking my hair, telling me, "Get strong, chief. We can't spare you right now."
I sat cross legged on the ground and covered my face with my hands. There were orders, more commands, shouts, some gentle words and harsh comments aimed my way, and none of it got through the roar in my head. A fact bled its way to the surface of my awareness. My old ghosts were gone. Now there was a whole new company to entertain. There was a big difference, though. Now the ghosts weren't asking Bando Nicos, "Why am I dead?" Now it was Bando Nicos demanding of his new herd of phantoms, "Why am I alive? What possible reason is there for me to stay alive? Why did you do this?" There were no answers.
Long after the last of the voices died in the distance, I sat in that deathly silence, begging for answers while the capsules in my hand offered eternal escape from all questions.
Everything has an end. The Forever Sand becomes the Big Grass, the deepest pain either kills you or becomes new strength. Stars are born. Stars die. Only black holes are forever. Maybe.
It was black dark. The fire had burned to coals. The moon was down, only the Eyes shining in the sky. I stared at the stars, wondering if Alna, Mercy Jane, and the others were looking at them. Of course they were. That was the deal we'd made in the Razai. Look at the stars and know you're never alone.
There was the scrape of metal against rock. I turned to my right and peered into the blackness as I demanded, "Who's that?"
A fire cube lit and I saw it was Marietta. She had a shovel in her right hand. Someone was leaning on her left arm. Reflected in the light I saw others standing around me and the dead jurors. Nance, Stays, Ratt, Lauris, Marantha. I saw Marantha, Ratt, and Lauris bend to the task of stripping the bodies. I got to my feet in horror.
"What're you people doing?"
"Prophet doesn't have an heir," said Marietta. "So this stuff goes into supply. We're still the Razai, and that's the law. We need the stuff."
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