by J F Bone
“The court knows Dr. Kerans,” Judge Gould said.
“The prosecution has no objection,” Farnsworth said.
“You are Dr. William Kerans?” Levenson asked.
“I am.”
“Please tell the court your qualifications.”
“The state waives this testimony and agrees that Dr. Kerans is an expert medical witness.” Farnsworth said. “There is no need for this.”
“Does the court also accept Dr. Kerans?” Levenson asked.
“Hmph,” Judge Gould said. “I know Dr. Kerans, and I would say he qualifies as an expert witness. He is the chief pathologist at the County Hospital.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. I call now for prosecution exhibits numbers four and five.”
Judge Gould nodded at the bailiff who removed the evidence—two large X-ray photographs—from the table and handed them to Levenson.
“Now, sir,” Levenson asked Kerans, “have you seen these pictures before?”
“No, sir, I have not,” the doctor said.
“Would you please examine them?”
“It is hard to do in this light. I really need a light box.”
“Fortunately,” Levenson said, “the prosecution thought of that.” He beckoned to the defense table and one of the staff left the courtroom and came back wheeling the light box on a stand which the prosecution had used several days ago. With a little ceremony, the box was plugged into an electrical outlet and turned on. Dr. Kerans slipped one of the films into the clips on the face of the glowing glass screen and peered intently at it. His face slowly took on an intent expression, and a poignant silence filled the room.
“What do you see, Doctor?” Levenson finally asked.
“This is an antero-posterior roentgenogram of a skull and upper thorax—a very good picture, I might add. The skull is damaged. There is a defect in the left temporal region, and in the right pareital area, a perforating wound, probably gunshot.”
“In other words, you are looking at the head, neck and shoulders, and there is a bullet hole in the head?”
“That is correct.”
“Is there anything unusual about the picture?”
Doctor Kerans looked at the X-ray film closely, and his eyes widened. “There are three things which I can see in this film. In the first place, it appears that the subject has twelve incisor teeth.”
“That is unusual.”
“Not in a dog, perhaps, but certainly in a human being. The normal number of incisor teeth for a human being is eight. I have seen a few human jaws with extra teeth, but they were molars or premolars. Incidentally, the tooth structure seems to be at variance with the norm, but I cannot be sure of that.”
“And is there anything else?”
“Yes, sir. The X-ray shows no supraorbital sinuses. While this would not be unusual in a monkey, it would be most unusual in a man or a woman.”
“And the third thing?”
“There are eight cervical vertebrae.”
“That’s unusual?”
“No, sir, it’s fantastic!”
“What prompts that choice of word, Doctor?”
Doctor Kerans looked around the courtroom, savoring the expectant silence. “One deviation, or even two, such as I have mentioned, could perhaps he laid to chance or hereditary malformation, but three deviations of this magnitude argue something else entirely. In mammals, with the possible exception of the manatee and the tree sloth, there are seven and only seven cervical vertebrae. This skeletal characteristic is common to the entire mammalian kingdom and is the one virtually unfailing criterion of the mammalian skeleton. It is in my experience a constant thing. From aardvark to zebra, with the two exceptions I have stated every mammal on this planet has seven cervical vertebrae.”
“But you just stated that the pictures of the corpse show eight.”
Kerans took the lead beautifully.
“Your last statement, counsellor, was in error. That body is not a corpse, it is a carcass.”
“Would you explain, sir? I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Levenson’s voice was filled with polite curiosity.
“Certainly—a corpse is considered to be the remains of a dead human being. The body from which these roentgenograms were taken is not human. Therefore, the proper term for it is carcass.”
Farnsworth was on his feet. “Now wait a minute!” he blurted. “Do you mean to imply that the victim is not human?”
“I’m not implying it, I’m saying it,” the doctor said. “I do.”
“Then what sort of body is it?”
“I don’t know. All l know is that it is not human!”
Judge Gould sat straight in his chair. “In all my years on the bench,” he commented, “I don’t believe I have heard anything as fantastic as this.”
“It is probable that you will again, Your Honor,” Kerans replied. “Where there is one of these creatures, there is bound to be more. But nevertheless, this body is alien. From the evidence at hand it is very alien.”
“Have you any further proof of your statements?”
“No, Your Honor, but proof could undoubtedly be gained from a complete postmortem examination Nevertheless, with three major deviations from human structure in the region of the head and neck, there should be others—many others.”
“Mr. Farnsworth,” Judge Gould said, “was there or was there not a complete autopsy made of the victim?”
“There was an examination, Your Honor.”
“A complete one?”
“No, Your Honor. We didn’t think it was necessary, and the coroner agreed. We took X-rays, of course, but the coroner is not a pathologist, as you know. In this country he’s an elected official. Actually he’s an undertaker.”
“He ought to know something about human anatomy,” Judge Gould said.
“He does, Your Honor. In fact, he commented on the abnormal location of the blood vessels when he embalmed the body. But he was not aware of the implications. He called them anomalies.”
“Anomalies!” Kerans snorted.
“The County Coroner’s Office has been overworked for years,” Farnsworth continued doggedly. “All of you know that. The coroner checked the course of the bullets through the body, satisfied himself that they could have caused death, and let it go at that. With the present work load, it is not unusual to fail to perform a complete autopsy on every cadaver when the cause of death is obvious.”
“Slipshod!” Kerans muttered.
“Now, Your Honor,” Levenson said. “Will you order a directed verdict?”
“I shall not,” Judge Gould said. “I shall instead order a complete autopsy to be supervised by Dr. Kerans. Court will convene tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. That is all for today; court is adjourned.” He stood up and vanished through the door behind the bench that led to his chambers.
His last words were drowned in the concerted rush of reporters to the doors. Simmonds sat at the defense table with a stolid expression on his face. Obviously, he didn’t understand what was happening. Levenson walked over to Farnsworth who was talking excitedly to Kerans. The courtroom was a minor chaos. Probably Simmonds could have walked out and no one would have missed him.
“I’m truly sorry, Farnsworth,” Levenson said. “You built a good case.”
“You’re still champion,” Farnsworth said. “You can take some comfort out of that. Me—I’m left looking like a fool. I should have ordered an autopsy. Hell!—She looked as human as you or I. Just how did you know?”
“I have my sources,” Levenson said.
“That body still can be human!”
“No way. You’ll find that out after this night is over.”
“Would you care to be busy along with Dr. Kerans and myself?”
“I can forego the experience. Autopsies make me ill.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dr. Kerans said.
“AND WHAT were the autopsy findings?” Judge Gould asked the next morning.
“The victim
was not human,” Dr. Kerans said. “Definitely not. Although the superficial aspect of the body strongly resembles that of a human being, there is evidence of plastic surgery and the appearance of the internal organs was conclusive. The coroner concurs with these findings.”
“And what were the findings?” Judge Gould asked. “Try to be brief and use terminology other than the usual medical jargon. Both the jury and I would like to know what this is all about.”
“Among the things we found,” said Kerans, “were 14 pair of ribs and a cecum nearly twenty inches long. A human has twelve pair of ribs and the cecum is virtually nonexistent. The liver had but two lobes. A human liver has seven. The spleen was ball shaped—in a human it is triangular. The kidneys were lobulated like those of a cow. This sometimes happens in humans, but not often. The reproductive organs consisted of a monocomuate uterus with a single ovary. There was evidence of recent multiple ovulation. The human uterus is of the simplex type, there are two ovaries, and ovulation is normally single, unless fertility drugs have been taken. There was a hollow organ anterior to the stomach, apparently for water storage, and several other organs which we could not immediately identify, but which appear to be accessory digestive structures. These are presently being studied. We were fortunate that the body was embalmed. As a result, the internal organs were in good condition. Microscopic examination of these revealed significant differences from human. The most outstanding difference was the presence of nucleated red blood cells. These would more closely relate to birds or reptiles than to human cells. We even put some hairs under the microscope and found that they were more like filoplumes than hair. This body was indeed a rare bird.” Kerans chuckled at his pun and Judge Gould looked even grimmer than usual.
“Then the body cannot possibly be human?” Gould asked.
“No, Your Honor,” said Kerans.
“In view of this development,” Judge Gould said, “I hereby direct the jury to return the verdict of Not Guilty. Murder is the premediated killing of one human being by another human being, usually with malicious intent. And while there well may have been malice, and certainty there was a killing, it was not murder. Since murder is the crime for which Mr. Simmonds is on trial, he is—by the definition of the crime—innocent.” Judge Gould looked at Levenson. “I am not pleased with the conduct of the defense,” he said.
“Sir, I could do nothing else. I had to let the prosecution present its case before I could ask for a directed verdict,” Levenson said.
“Turn the prisoner loose,” Judge Gould ordered.
“Arrest him!” Farnsworth said.
“On what. charge?” Gould asked. “Cruelty to animals?”
Farnsworth was silent.
Simmonds, a free man, stood up—walked past Levenson and up the center aisle of the courtroom. There was a grin on his face as though he knew all along that he was too important to be held for something as inconsequential as murder. Reporters surrounded him and he began to talk even as he walked out of the courtroom.
A tall man with blue-black hair and a singularly pale skin stood up from his aisle seat in the last row and faced Simmonds. Barry looked at him and scowled. “Outa my way, creep,” he said—and then his voice stopped and the scowl turned to a grimace and the voice to a screech of terror as the tall man took a pistol from his coat pocket and shot Barry once through the head and twice through the body. Simmonds fell backwards, dead before he struck the floor.
Without haste, the tall man walked through the stunned crowd down the aisle to the bar. He handed the pistol to the bailiff, nodded to Levenson and said in a slightly metallic voice, “Now, Counsellor, you can earn your fee.”
Levenson nodded. The pieces fell into place. “All right,” he said. “I expected something like this.”
“I’m sure you did,” the tall man said. “You are quite intelligent.” He took an orange handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face and hands. The white pigment vanished and his skin became a shining cobalt blue. “May I introduce myself,” the blue man said. “I am Kalvastin, Director of Galactic Confederation Field Expedition 23106D. I am native of a world circling the star you call Proxima Centaurus, and I greet you intelligences of Earth in the name of the Confederation.”
“Why did you kill Simmonds?” Levenson asked.
“That was a matter of Devian Law. It has nothing to do with the formal greeting to your planet.”
Levenson grinned wryly. So much for Earthly justice. Human law could no more touch Kalvastin that it had touched Simmonds. His place in legal history was assured. He would be the first lawyer to defend an extraterrestrial In a human court. He would win on a technicality and would trigger a complete revision of all Earthly criminal law codes to include extraterrestrials. That was enough for any man.
“LATER, Later, when the furor had subsided, and the courtroom was cleared, Kalvastin, Judge Gould, Farnsworth and Levenson sat in the judge’s chambers waiting for federal, state and foreign representatives to arrive. Frantic telegrams from the State Department and the United Nations kept the four inside the city-county building which had become the focus of the world’s attention. The media had done a better job than Kalvastin expected. Everyone who was anyone heading for Tacoma, and the City Fathers and the Chamber of Commerce of Seattle were green with envy.
Kalvastin was talking. He had been talking for sometime answering questions about the expedition—which was to offer Confederacy status to Earth, and about the time the Confederacy had been examining Earth, which was since the Los Alamos nuclear explosion in 1945. After thirty years, the Confederation decided that foe ruling intelligences of Earth were not going to destroy themselves and showed some capacity for rational action on important matters such as survival. Furthermore, the technological level of Earth was advanced enough for the planet to be offered membership in the Confederation. Kalvastin’s group was empowered to make that offer. They had intended to do it before the United Nations but had stopped en route to observe the Northwest power grid which was of interest to the Lyranian delegate.
“Those of us with human conformation, or who were similar to your animals, enjoyed ourselves as tourists while Larriman was looking at the Columbia Basin. When your Mr. Simmonds put an end to Alaina Zarrajen, the Devian delegate, we were ready to leave for New York, and I was already there doing some preliminary reconnaissance. Alaina should have stayed with the ship. She took too many chances in a strange ecology. She was an adventuress at heart, and you can put any meaning you please on that term. This time she took one chance too many. She knew exactly what Simmonds was, but that form of aberration is so common on her world that she really didn’t appreciate the danger. She was looking for adventure.”
“And, of course, you felt it necessary to avenge her death?” Farnsworth asked.
“Far from it,” Kalvastin said.
“While it isn’t good to lose a delegate, the death of almost any other delegate except a Devi an would have caused minimal trouble. Such things are expected. Of course, we were sorry to lose her but no single delegate is vital to the success of an Expedition. However, I am the Director and I am legally responsible for the delegates, and that responsibility is broad. It conceivably extends to supporting the social idiosyncrasies of every delegate. Naturally, I was forced to support Devian customs and avenge her death. You see, Devians have a system of retaliatory justice.”
“What’s a Devian?”
“An inhabitant of the planet Dev, the fifth world of a sun located in the constellation you call Orion. Since I had to support Devian mores in this matter, and since Devians insist on extraterritoriality for their citizens, I had no course but to act in support of Devian law. Under no circumstances could I permit Alaina’s death to be revenged by an outside agency such as your legal system. No punishment you could legally invoke would satisfy the Devians. Simmonds had to be killed by the same kind of weapon and in the same manner as Alaina Zarrajen. Moreover, it would be extremely bad form, and indeed a confession of weakness, to pe
rmit anyone other than myself to carry out the judgment. Since prestige in interworld relationships is extremely important, and since your planet is a non-Confederation world without a system of extradition or a unitized code of justice, I had to act or else we Centaurians would lose much prestige. There might also be diplomatic repercussions, since Devians are an excitable lot and Alaina was one of their more popular public figures. Therefore, I arranged to have Mr. Levenson defend and free Simmonds so that I could kill him.
“That wasn’t very nice of you,” Levenson murmured.
“I don’t understand. Nicety has nothing to do with it. I was merely carrying out Devian justice on an unincorporated planet I selected you as my attorney because you attract the media and I wanted full coverage. I am familiar enough with your narrow legal code to realize that both Simmonds and I were immune from your justice. And since affairs had gone this far, I felt that the Expedition’s presence might as well be advertised here as in New York. After all, it makes small difference.”
Levenson sputtered. Small difference indeed! To compare this town with New York—ha!
“I would hope, of course, that our Expedition gets as much publicity as Simmonds got, but I realize that being a non-Earthling is a disadvantage.”
“You don’t understand us as well as you think you do,” Levenson chuckled. “You need an advisor.”
“That is another reason I employed you, Mr. Levenson.”
“There is one thing that puzzles me,” Judge Gould said. “Why didn’t you wait and waylay Simmonds in some quiet place outside my courtroom? Devian justice would be satisfied, and you personally would never have had to expose yourself to our laws. I suppose that there might have been some search for Simmonds’ killer, but most people would probably figure it was good riddance. You could have gotten off scot-free.”
“I couldn’t,” the blue man said. “No Centaurian can ignore respect for law. That is an inherent in our character. You see, it’s mandatory that an offender of my race come to justice and have his acts judged by a Lawman. We don’t have trials as you do. No Centaurian can run away from the consequences of his acts. I could no more do as you suggest than I could—” he paused and smiled. “The analogy I was about to draw doesn’t apply on this world,” he said. “But running away is truly quite impossible. That is one of the main reasons why I am Director of this Expedition.”
