The Possession of Paavo Deshin

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  Then the voice told them they could all sit down.

  The judge gaveled the session to order.

  “I’m scared, Mommy,” Paavo whispered.

  Me, too, Gerda thought. But she didn’t say it. Instead, she gave her son a brave smile, took his hand, and prayed everything would go her way.

  ***

  The Grazians were already two minutes late, which wasn’t going to help their case with the judge. Maxine Van Alen had sent one of her associates to fetch them. The associate had contacted her to let her know that he had found them and they were coming to court—”gladly,” he had said, although she was beginning to doubt it.

  They should have been here by now.

  If she didn’t get upstairs in three more minutes, she would lose the case by default. Judge Connelly did not tolerate tardiness in her courtroom.

  Van Alen had started for the stairs when the courthouse door opened. A couple hurried in, followed by her associate. The Grazians. She thought she had forgotten what they looked like, but the moment she saw them, she remembered—and shuddered ever so slightly.

  She had loathed Károly Grazian. The man had been controlling, the kind of person who never listened to advice, and felt everyone’s opinion was worth less than his own.

  The entire case came back to her then—her arguments to the Grazians six and a half years ago that they shouldn’t Disappear if they filed the class action suit, but if they did Disappear, they should not file the suit.

  If you stay, you make a compelling argument for your innocence, she had said. If you go, you should simply become brand-new people and not let the past hold you.

  They hadn’t taken either bit of advice. She had given the class action suit to another lawyer, partly because she didn’t want to fight for clients who refused to stick around and fight for themselves.

  Ishani Grazian clung to her husband’s hand. The woman irritated Van Alen more than the husband did. She did everything Károly told her to, especially when he told her that all of his ideas were for her own good.

  “We have to get upstairs now,” Van Alen said, “or we will lose by default.”

  She didn’t wait for them, but started climbing the stairs. She had planned to discuss her entire strategy with them before they went inside the courtroom, but their tardiness made the discussion impossible.

  As she opened the double doors, she felt a palpable sense of relief. She didn’t want to discuss appeals or the treaty system with them. She didn’t want to talk about spending years on this case.

  Did that mean she wouldn’t do the best job she could for her clients?

  She hoped not.

  She would still do the best she could. But she would do it all on her terms, not on theirs.

  ***

  “So good of you to join us, Ms. Van Alen,” the judge said.

  Flint turned slightly in his seat. Maxine Van Alen had burst through the doors, looking frazzled. He didn’t see her clients.

  “I’m sorry we’re late, Judge,” she said. “My clients just arrived.”

  But they clearly hadn’t caught up yet. Flint glanced at the front of the courtroom. Luc Deshin looked flustered. Celestine Gonzalez, who had once helped Flint with some legalities concerning Talia, had folded her hands in front of her stomach.

  Deshin’s wife had turned slightly in her seat, and so did her frightened young son.

  “We plan to fight this adoption, your honor,” Van Alen said as she walked to the front of the courtroom. “We were sandbagged here, with no time to prepare—”

  “On the contrary, Ms. Van Alen,” the judge said. “You had years to prepare for this. I’m not even sure your clients have standing.”

  “They do, your honor,” she said. “They’re the biological parents.”

  “Who Disappeared,” the judge said.

  “The charges against them have been dropped,” Van Alen said. “They have returned, ready to resume their lives.”

  “Six and a half years later,” the judge said. “An eternity in the life of a child.”

  The little boy straightened. Flint frowned. The child knew they were talking about him. Flint wasn’t even sure the boy should be here, but it wasn’t Flint’s call.

  Flint’s companion hadn’t shown up yet either. He had told Selah Rutledge to come to the courthouse. He had told her the Grazians would be here.

  If she was smart, she would bring the police officers who had handled this morning’s attack with her. He had told her to do so, but she had harrumphed him, like she often did. He could never tell if that meant she agreed with him or disagreed with him.

  Footsteps echoed outside the door. He turned again, expecting to see Selah.

  Instead, two people he had only seen in surveillance imagery walked through. A husband and wife, looking washed out and frightened, wearing the same clothes they had worn that morning.

  The Grazians.

  And as they entered, they looked at no one except the little boy, shivering up front.

  ***

  It was them. His mom hadn’t told him they would be here. Paavo grabbed her arm so hard that she gasped, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pulled him closer.

  His heart was pounding so hard that it hurt. They were coming closer and closer and closer, and he wanted to bury his face in his mom’s neck, but he couldn’t. He didn’t dare look away from them.

  “Are they really here?” he asked his mom.

  She nodded.

  They were only a meter or so away. The woman reached out for him—

  And he couldn’t help it. He screamed. He screamed and backed up, nearly falling off the bench. His dad pulled him against the columned fence between the bench and the table, holding him. His mom stood in front of him, blocking his view.

  “Stay away!” Paavo screamed. “Stay away!”

  “Ms. Gonzalez,” the judge said. “Do something to soothe that child.”

  “Is there somewhere safe he can go?” Paavo’s mother asked.

  Safe. They wanted him safe. Paavo leaned against his dad. That woman was still staring at him, trying to say something, but he wasn’t going to listen. He wouldn’t listen.

  “My chambers,” the judge said.

  His mom picked him up. His dad said he could do it, but she said, no, you need to stay here. Then she carried Paavo to the back, through a door that the judge opened for them.

  Away from those people. Away.

  Until he saw the Ghosts standing in front of him, and he screamed again.

  “They’re on his links!” his mother screamed. “Make them stop!”

  Somehow she knew. She knew.

  “If you’re interfering with that child,” the judge said. “Then—”

  The Ghosts disappeared. The door closed. Paavo trembled.

  “Are they gone?” his mom asked.

  “They’re outside,” he whispered.

  “But you can’t see them in here, can you?” she asked.

  “No,” he said.

  “Good.” She set him on a soft couch. There was a desk and a window that overlooked the City Center. And a robe hanging from a peg.

  “We’ll wait in here until they go away,” his mom said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  He nodded, as if it made a difference. But she had been with him a lot when he saw the Ghosts, and that usually didn’t make them go away. Although that judge lady had helped.

  Maybe it would all stop now.

  Maybe.

  ***

  “I don’t know what you just did,” Van Alen said as she helped her clients to the table beside her. “But whatever it was was pretty damn stupid.”

  Károly Grazian glared at her. Ishani Grazian looked worried. The judge had pulled the door to her chambers closed and resumed her place at the bench.

  “These people scare my son, Judge,” Luc Deshin said.

  His lawyer shushed him.

  “That’s pretty obvious, Mr. Deshin,” the Judge said. “What d
id you do to that child?”

  Van Alen looked at her clients. The question had gone directly to them.

  “Nothing,” Károly Grazian said.

  “That wasn’t nothing. That boy is terrified of you and he thought you had gotten into my chambers,” the Judge said.

  “If I may, Judge,” Luc Deshin said. “I know what they did.”

  His lawyer was shushing him, but it seemed to do no good.

  “Quickly, Mr. Deshin.”

  “They have been using his links since he was a tiny baby. We just found out about it. Grazian here designed links and he messed with Paavo’s somehow. Paavo thinks they’re Ghosts. He’s terrified of them and convinced they’ll hurt him.”

  “They did try to hurt him, Judge,” Deshin’s lawyer said. “They tried to kidnap Paavo today.”

  The judge’s eyebrows went up.

  Van Alen felt her cheeks heat. Flint had been right. She should have left this one alone. She had known nothing about the links.

  “Is this true, Counselor?” the judge asked Van Alen.

  She turned to her clients. “Is it true?” she asked softly.

  Károly stood defiantly, saying nothing.

  “Is it true?” Van Alen asked.

  “You’ll answer or be held in contempt of this court,” the judge said.

  “We didn’t mean to terrorize him,” Ishani said. “We just wanted him to remember us. We thought we would be back for him. And we did come back. We’re back now.”

  “Your honor,” the lawyer said, “I have submitted all sorts of documentation about the Deshin home. This child is well cared for and loved. Our petition—”

  “Is granted,” the judge said. “I have no idea why you’re even here, Ms. Van Alen. There was nothing to fight. These people abandoned their child six and half years ago. The fact that they’ve been terrorizing him ever since is just appalling to me.”

  “It’s not terrorizing,” Ishani said. “All we did was tell him that we loved him.”

  The judge looked at Van Alen. “Get them out of my courtroom. Now.”

  She didn’t have to be told twice. She put her hand on their backs and pushed them forward.

  “We should fight this,” Károly said. “They have no right to take our child.”

  Van Alen didn’t answer him. She didn’t dare. She wanted to tell him what an idiot he was, how he had sandbagged his own case, how he was the most insensitive person she had ever represented.

  But she didn’t, mostly because she wanted them out of her life.

  Flint was standing. Van Alen frowned at him. He fell in with them as they went to the door.

  “The Deshins took care of your child,” Flint said to the Grazians as he walked with them. “They raised him. That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

  Károly looked at him. “Who are you?”

  “He was a difficult child,” Flint said, “so brilliant and high strung. He cried a lot and he was too much for your wife to handle, wasn’t he?”

  His questions made Van Alen nervous. She glanced over her shoulder. The judge had opened the door to her chambers, but she was watching.

  “What are you doing?” Van Alen whispered to Flint.

  “Satisfying my own curiosity,” he said.

  “He wasn’t too much for me to handle,” Ishani said. “But Károly worries.”

  Károly glared at her. Van Alen felt a curious lightness. “What’s this all about, Miles?” she asked.

  “When it became clear that the baby was too much for Ishani, they wanted someone else to take care of the baby during the difficult early months,” Flint said. “But they figured they’d be back when he was old enough to understand reason, and then they’d take him back.”

  “He should be ours,” Ishani said. “I love him.”

  Not we, Van Alen noted. Never we.

  She pushed open the courtroom doors and stopped. Two police officers in uniform stood there, along with a woman who looked somewhat familiar.

  “Almost too late, Selah,” Flint said.

  The woman smiled at him. The police officers said, “Ishani and Károly Grazian? You’re under arrest for attempted kidnapping.”

  Each officer grabbed a Grazian and pulled their hands behind their backs, securing them with cuffs.

  “They can’t do this,” Ishani said to Van Alen. “He’s our son.”

  “I expect you to come with us,” Károly said to Van Alen.

  “I’ll send my associate,” Van Alen said, “until we can find you someone else.”

  She didn’t want anything to do with them. She nodded at her associate, who had been standing just outside the doors. He hurried along with them. He was just six months out of law school. This entire case was over his head, which was just fine with her.

  The woman that Flint knew hurried along with them, probably to press her complaint.

  “Don’t tell me,” Van Alen said. “She’s the head of the Aristotle Academy.”

  “That’s right,” Flint said. He looked at her sideways. “I thought you were going to defend them all the way to the Multicultural Tribunal.”

  “Sometimes things are much better in theory,” Van Alen said.

  He smiled at her.

  “How did you know they didn’t want to raise the child?” she asked.

  “A hunch at first,” he said. “But I found some evidence. Do you want to see it?”

  “No,” she said. “I want to be rid of those people. I had forgotten how horrible they were.”

  “I thought Disappeareds could do no wrong,” Flint said.

  She made a face at him. “They’re human like everyone else.”

  “But Luc Deshin is a criminal,” Flint reminded her.

  Van Alen recalled how the little boy had run to his father when he saw the Grazians. His father clearly represented safety to him.

  “He’s not a criminal to his son,” she said.

  “Wow,” Flint said. “I’m stunned. You backed off of your principles.”

  “You’re not stunned,” Van Alen said. “You know I’m not dogmatic.”

  He smiled at her. “I know.”

  “But you are,” she said.

  “Only when it comes to children,” he said.

  “And your own version of right and wrong,” she said.

  “That too,” he agreed. “That too.”

  ***

  It took Paavo a long time to start breathing normally. His dad had come into the room and had his arms wrapped around him. The judge was talking to his parents about legalities and documents and signing things.

  Then, she said to Paavo, you’ll be theirs.

  He already was theirs. She didn’t understand that. She hadn’t understood a lot of things. He had to explain the Ghosts. She looked upset at that, and she finally ordered someone just outside the door to press some charges against the Ghosts. Something about invasion of privacy and manipulation with the intent to terrorize.

  “They’ll go away for a long time,” she said to Paavo’s dad.

  “Good,” his dad had said.

  “And you better straighten up too,” she said to Paavo’s dad. “Don’t think I haven’t heard stories.”

  His dad looked startled. Paavo was. He had never heard anyone talk to his dad like that.

  “This boy loves you,” the judge said. “You should make sure you’re worthy of that love.”

  Paavo didn’t like the way the judge was talking. He glared at her.

  “He is worthy,” Paavo said. “He’s my dad.”

  “The Possession of Paavo Deshin” by Kristine Kathryn Rusch first published in Analog SF, January/February, 2010.

  About the Author

  International bestselling writer Kristine Kathryn Rusch has won two Hugo awards, a World Fantasy Award, and three Asimov’s Readers Choice Awards. Io9 called her bestselling, award-winning Retrieval Artist novels, inspired by this novella, one of the top ten science fiction detective series ever. For more information about her work, please go
to kristinekathrynrusch.com.

  If you liked “The Possession of Paavo Deshin,” you might try these other short stories and novels by Kristine Kathryn Rusch:

  The Recovery Man

  The Recovery Man’s Bargain

  Duplicate Effort

  The Retrieval Artist

  The Impossibles

  Diving into the Wreck