by Tom Shepherd
Suzie groaned.
“You will.” J.B. nodded sympathetically. “Tyler snaps into focus when bludgeoned by circumstances. And he needs a Suryadivan-speaking interpreter, but you’re second chairing for me.” J.B. smiled at Rosalie.
“I’ll work with you, Ty.” She pointed at her brother. “Provided you stay in your adult persona.”
“Okay, I am publicly chided and will behave,” Tyler conceded. “I guess it’s mock court today, off to Grandmother’s house tomorrow.”
Blue raised his ears. “Your grandmother lives here?”
Tyler sighed. “Another metaphor.”
“I keep missing those. Very frustrating.”
“Maybe Mr. Blue could go back to the Trade Embassy and look for information about Julieta’s disappearance,” Rosalie said.
“Good idea,” J.B. said.
“I’ll head to the Gobikan,” Demarcus Platte leaned forward in his chair. “Suryadivan RPs might let me question Greeter Lox.”
“Give it a shot,” Tyler said.
“Oh—shot!” Mr. Blue clapped his large hands, making a knuckle-cracking sound. “That’s a metaphor!”
They all laughed warmly, the kind of laughter that came from friendly approval rather than side-stitching humor. Blue asked if he had misunderstood something, then launched into a summary of their discussions, killing the mood and butchering Terran idioms along the way.
As the azure alien bounced through a briar patch of linguistic malapropisms, Lucy the cat peeked inside the conference room door appeared at and with a hesitant meow. Rosalie stretched her arms, and the tabby bobbed across the plush burgundy carpet into her arms. She purred loudly while Blue continued with no end in sight.
“Excuse me, Indigo—hold that thought,” Tyler said. “I have a crazy idea how to increase our chances with Grandma Gemma tomorrow.”
“Let’s hear it.” J.B. leaned back and folded his hands behind his head, plainly relieved that Blue’s lecture was over.
Tyler moved around the table to Rosalie and the ersatz cat. He reached out slowly, letting the creature sniff his hand, and when nothing happened he scratched Lucy’s head affectionately.
“Little friend, we know you’re a shape-shifter. If you understand me, meow three times.”
The cat complied, and Rosalie hugged her. “You know we love you,” she said. “Listen to my brother.”
Tyler stepped back. “Lucy, can you become a human toddler, maybe a cute little girl?”
The cat meowed three times before hopping from Rosalie’s grasp. Lucy landed on the carpet, shook herself head to tail, and morphed into an adorable two-year-old girl in a blue-green dress. With hazel eyes and curly red hair, she could easily pass for Rosalie’s daughter.
“Holy Mother of God,” J.B. whispered.
Demarcus Platte reflexively leaped out of his chair, hand on the weapon at his side. Tyler silently gestured for him to sit down and relax, but the ex-cop remained on his feet and leaned against the conference room wall, clearly ready to respond if needed.
Dorla bent to her keyboard. “Shall I enter the cat as absent, and the little girl now present?”
J.B. cleared his throat, and addressed the newcomer. “Hi, there. Can you talk Terran?”
A tiny voice replied, “Not easy talk…easy feel.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Rosalie brushed a tear from her cheek.
“The species is probably an emote reader,” Suzie said. “Minimal linguistic skills, primarily communicating by emotions.”
Mr. Blue said. “I wonder what dissection would show—”
“Blue!” Rosalie said.
“I was only wondering.”
Tyler leaned toward the child. “Will you come along tomorrow, help the Family?”
“I try. How much time go?”
“How long can you hold this form?” Tyler said.
“Day cycle. Then sleep in snake.”
“Please don’t tell me your normal form is a snake,” Dorla said. “You’re too precious.”
“Not normal. Have no normal. Snake easy.” The shape-shifter child raised her arms for Rosalie to pick her up. “You very warm me. Like you. All.”
J.B. sighed. “I like her, too. But we can’t keep sentient creatures as pets.”
Rosalie bristled. “Lucy is not a pet!”
“Don’t you want to go home someday?” J.B. asked the pseudo-child before him.
“Am home. You my home.”
Rosalie’s eyes moistened again. She hugged the toddler and murmured, “Awww…”
“Great,” J.B. said. “Now we’re foster parents to a serpent.”
“Cheer up, Bro.” Tyler laughed. “If any profession welcomes shape-shifting snakes, it’s gotta be lawyers.”
J.B. snorted. “Let’s get ready for court.”
Twenty-Five
A pair of crescent moons dangled against a pale peach sky when Tyler waited with his crew for their ride to the Gobikan. Well-rested after a full night’s sleep with Suzie beside him, refreshed by cool morning air and beckoned by twinkling city lights, he was ready for legal battle.
When an empty, silver-and-gray hovercraft floated up to the passenger platform, Tyler attempted to board, but Inspector Demarcus Platte stepped in front of him and raised a hand like a traffic cop.
“Nobody sets foot inside until I clear the vehicle.”
Tyler waited in the light breeze and occasionally looked up to delight in the smiling, silver moons. Platte checked externally and internally for explosives, espionage devices, and other sinister devices for at least five minutes. The Inspector finally waived to the waiting knot of Star Lawyers and they shuffled aboard.
The vehicle rose to about twenty meters and glided forward into light traffic, skimmed over misty lanes and wove among towering, pointed skyscrapers. The skimmer frequently passed under fat, tubular office spurs that stretched building-to-building. Connective add-ons to maximize use of space in this ancient, crowded capital of Suryadivan civilization.
Tyler quickly caught sight of the Gobikan, which dominated the skyline. “That gaudy Easter egg is one of the biggest goddamn structures I’ve ever seen. Maybe taller than Star-scraper One. Why so much space for a government building?”
“They need all three hundred stories,” Rosalie said. “The Gobikan houses most of the functions of the civil and religious governments. Think of Vatican City atop the World Parliament Complex at Jerusalem.”
“Let’s review our strategy one more time,” Tyler said. “Rosalie and I will locate the secular Property Assessment Court where Matron Judge Gemma presides.”
Rosalie beamed. “Don’t forget Lucy.”
Posing as a two-year-old toddler, the shape shifter’s role was to charm the new grandma. Tyler’s goal was to march into Gemma’s courtroom, demand unfettered access to the Alpha Site, and walk away a free man.
He turned to his brother. “J.B., you and Suzie—”
“Navigate Suryadivan Sacred Law channels to get the capital case against Esteban thrown out,” J.B. said. “I know the plan. We spent most of yesterday drilling on Suryadivan courtroom procedure.”
“And while you’re dazzling the courts,” Platte said, “I’ll find Yumiko’s arresting officer and see if my colleagues in law enforcement will drop the charges against her.”
“Ask about Greeter Lox again,” Tyler said.
“It’s on my list,” Demarcus said. “But the Terran-speaking policemen I interviewed yesterday said even their friends among the RPs had no idea where the witness had gone.”
“What about me, luv?” Suzie said. “How do I get through the security screening?”
They argued about various strategies while the Gobikan loomed larger in the viewscreens. After extensive discussions about how to evade detection, Platte addressed the problem from a policeman’s viewpoint.
“Ask them,” he said. “They’ve heard of holograms, and you’re too rich and well-connected to be terrorists. You have a right to bring supportive ma
terials. No offense, ma’am.”
She smiled. “I kinda like being supportive material.”
“I agree with Inspector Platte,” Rosalie said.
While Tyler and J.B. argued about Platte’s suggestion, toddler Lucy laid her head upon Rosalie’s shoulder and took a nap. Finally, just as the skimmer halted on the platform at the Gobikan security doors, Suzie pulled the hologram projecting wristband from Tyler and snapped on her arm.
“Let’s go, Demarcus.”
“Follow me, ma’am.”
J.B. and Tyler plodded after them. When she registered on the scanners as an energy being, Platte showed his Matthews Security ID and explained the situation with Suzie translating. After a quick communication with some decision-maker above them in the building, they waved the whole Star Lawyers party through the checkpoint. No one even scanned sleeping Lucy, never suspecting the greater threat posed by a shape-shifter.
Tyler expected major cultural shock when they entered the courtroom, but it looked like a classic Greek amphitheater. The rear of the court was the highest level, and from the entrance, terraces of padded bench seats curved downslope to a central stage where attorneys sat on stools with their clients. The courtroom was packed with people, all seated and politely quiet, representing a smattering of alien cultures, many races unknown to Tyler. But most onlookers were ruddy-colored, web-fingered Suryadivans. In fact, the whole chamber smelled like a garlic festival on a saltwater marsh at low tide.
“Amphibians,” Tyler muttered.
Above them, the judge presided from a simple wood table on a raised platform. She wore a dark blue cape with white stripes that resembled a Mexican poncho.
Tyler took a breath. This is it. Either she reaffirms our easement to the Alpha Site, or Jump Gate Omega fails. And I fail. And there’s a good chance great corporations will go to war in the aftermath of the economic collapse which will follow their losses. In any event, Dad’s disapproving eyes will dog me the rest of my life.
He took a deep breath and trudged down the center aisle. Rosalie ambled after him, Lucy on her hip. Tyler halted at the foot of the stage. Rosalie nodded, ready to translate.
The case underway was a dispute over fishing rights in Paradise, which Rosalie explained was the name of a Suryadivan colony world 48.2 light years from the home system. Residents of the largest city on the mainland had begun fishing the outer banks where, in human terms, the abundance of marine life produced a yield of biblical proportions. The mainlanders wanted increased fishing to export local delicacies to Suryadivan Prime.
However, a settled chain of large islands skirted the edge of this aquatic cornucopia, and the settlers demanded compensation and a limited harvest to preserve the maritime treasure for future generations. The attorney for full exploitation was speaking, and from the drowsy look of the courtroom it was apparent—even to a non-linguist—this guy was no Cicero. Tyler interrupted him, loudly.
“Honored Matron, I come before you seeking exceptional justice!”
A gasp filled the amphitheater. Rosalie translated her brother’s words, and although Tyler spoke not a word of Suryadivan, he sensed her attempted to mimic the vigor of his outburst.
Coolly, he continued. “I beg the court’s indulgence for disrupting these important proceedings, but we are compelled to bring before you a grave injustice and ask you to grant relief.”
“Young human, can you give me one reason why I shouldn’t order my magistrates to throw you out the nearest viewport and see if Terrans can fly?”
A second gasp swept the chamber.
“Uh—because I wouldn’t like it?”
The Judge laughed heartily, and the spectators breathed easier. Some joined the laughter, belatedly.
“Relax, young man. No flying today.” She eyed the attorneys, all seated together. “But since you barged into my court and woke me from my nap while Advocate Obalk droned on, maybe you can momentarily set aside your cry for justice and help me to rule on fishing rights. As an alien with no stake in the outcome, what would you do?”
“Easily settled, Matron Judge. Decision for the islanders.”
She smiled and raised her head fin slightly. “Really? On what grounds?”
“The islanders think beyond the moment and will preserve their Paradise for future generations while feeding the hungry today.”
“This human knows nothing of our culture!” The chief attorney for the mainlanders leaped to his feet. “Honored Matron, you cannot allow off-worlders to barge in here and order this court to divert from its lawfully scheduled docket. The hearing must proceed.”
Tyler smirked. “It sounds like the distinguished counselor for the exploiters is the one who is ordering you to do something, Your Honor.”
“Very cleverly turned,” Gemma said with a flutter of her head fin. “Obalk, sit down and take a break. After your rambling on all morning, all of us need it.”
A ripple of laughter swept the stepped chamber. Gemma studied Tyler closely; her eyes widened and appeared to swell. “Terran, what is your name and whom do you represent?”
“Tyler Noah Matthews, IV, Your Honor.”
This time, the sound in the courtroom was the buzz of three hundred whispering spectators.
“Aye, yes, aye. You want your easement restored. Why should I hear your case?”
Tyler nodded. “Because fundamental, shared values of Suryadivan and human society have been flagrantly ignored and, if left unresolved, will result in grave injury to the commerce of both worlds.”
Rosalie winked at him and whispered in Spanish, “Well said, Big Brother.”
Gemma’s head tilted slightly. “Is that a human female child? I’ve never seen one.”
“That’s what they look like,” Rosalie said brightly. She hoisted the toddler for Gemma to examine.
The judge smiled. “What is your name, little one? Can they speak at this age?”
Rosalie assured her the child could speak a little. Lucy lifted her face and said, “My name is Lulu Lucy.”
Gemma tried to repeat, but the standard Suryadivan dialect had no sound like lu, so it came out “Woo-woo Woo-zi.” The Judge added, “She resembles her parents closely.”
“Honored Matron,” Tyler said. “My colleague and I are brother and sister. Lucy is an orphan. The Family recently adopted her.”
Gemma looked closely at Rosalie, and then at Lucy. “Do all human females have auburn hair?”
“No, Honored Matron.” Rosalie flashed a smile. “Just the pretty ones.”
Clearly charmed by Rosalie and Lucy, the people in the courtroom laughed briskly, predominantly in that yark-yark laughter of Suryadivans. As the warm murmuring faded, Attorney Obalk rose to try again, but Gemma silenced him with a web-hand gesture and he sat quickly.
“Attorney Tyler the Fourth, I will make space for your ‘emergency’ appeal later today. A special session after evening prayer. That will not inconvenience anyone but court personnel and attorneys, so I think there will be no public outcry against me.”
Another wave of laughter told Tyler the old lady judge had hit the mark with a cross-species cliché. He was used to jibes about his profession. Nobody loves lawyers, not even other lawyers. They put you in jail, sue you for your shit, and represent your no-good spouse when you’re served divorce papers demanding all your money and half your property. At least these amphibian-marsupials weren’t the pathologically humorless Rek Kett dirtballs.
Gemma ordered the recording official to notify the appropriate government attorney’s office of the scheduled hearing and declared a recess before mid-morning prayer. Instead of leaving the courtroom she came down from the Judgment Table and asked to hold Lucy. When Rosalie handed her the child, Gemma leaned back slightly and placed Lucy on her belly, where any marsupial would carry a babe.
“Beware, Counselor,” Gemma said to Tyler. “Very powerful forces oppose your Jump Gate. For the sake of your adopted child, tread lightly.”
“I understand, but the injustice don
e to the Family requires this course of action.”
Gemma touched her fingertips to Lucy’s brow before returning her to Rosalie. “Until this evening.”
“Thank you, Honored Matron,” Tyler said.
It was all he hoped to accomplish and more. This judge seemed fair, perhaps even leaned in his favor, so he had a good shot at prevailing. But he wondered what kind of pressure from above would build against Grandma Gemma in the hours before the hearing.
* * * *
J.B. and Suzie stepped from the lift ninety-one floors above the uppermost level of the secular government and entered the judicial proceedings area of the Sacred Protectorate’s religious judiciary. From this level to the domed cap of the egg-shaped Gobikan, the theocratic management did its business, an equal partner to the secular administration below. Some would argue, the Pontiffs were actually the senior partners in the Suryadivan government.
As they walked briskly down the corridor, J.B. recognized a middle aged Suryadivan female who waited by a closed courtroom door. “Lox Aspi’s mother, High Priestess Advocate Erizond Aspi.”
Suzie nodded. “Accessing news media. According to published reports, Advocate Erizond is considered the greatest prosecuting attorney in the Sacred Protectorate. The secular media reports she politely recused herself from prosecuting Esteban, since he is accused of attempting to murder her son.”
“Does Suryadivan legal ethics require her to do that?”
“No, in fact, righteous vengeance is recognized as a positive virtue in a prosecuting attorney.”
J.B. frowned. “Then why would she recuse herself? You’d think she would want a quick verdict and sentence. I’m at a loss to understand this species and their legal system.”
Suzie cocked her head, as though downloading data from a distance. “Maybe she knows Esteban didn’t do it.”
J.B. nodded. “If so, Lox must’ve told her.”
“Which means she knows where he is. Let’s ask.” Suzie headed for the High Priestess Advocate.
J.B. caught up with her. “Let me do the talking, legal intern.”
