“Go on, Doctor.”
“Well, this tiny, barest fraction of an eye is enough to make you king if everyone else is totally blind. What good is a partial eye? If it lets you detect that some creature is coming toward you—a creature that might eat you—if it lets you sense that, even as an indistinct shadow, so that you can get away before it’s upon you, well, yes, that’s an advantage, and yes, evolution would select for it.
“And as time goes by, if a transparent membrane developed over those light-sensitive cells, to protect them from damage, well, if that membrane lets you keep your light-sensitive cells when others are losing theirs, then, yes, that’s an advantage, and evolution would select for it.
“And if that transparent membrane became thicker in the middle by random chance, and that thickness had the effect of focusing the light somewhat, giving you a slightly sharper view of whatever was approaching, then, yes, that’s an advantage, and evolution would select for it, too.
“Bit by bit, tiny change by tiny change, you do go from no vision at all to a highly sophisticated eye, like the one we possess. In fact, in Earth’s fossil record, it seems that vision didn’t evolve once—it appears that it evolved as many as sixty different times. It takes all sorts of forms: our single-lens eyes, the compound eyes of insects, the lensless pinhole-camera eyes of nautiluses. Yes, the eye evolved, on its own, unguided, unplanned, through natural selection.”
“But the eye is so refined, Doctor, so sophisticated. Do you really believe it isn’t the handiwork of God?”
Smathers looked out at the courtroom. “About half the people I see here today are wearing glasses; I’ll bet of the remaining half, a goodly number are wearing contact lenses. Now, it may be a miracle that LensCrafters can make glasses in about an hour, but I’d have actually expected an omnipotent God to have designed eyes that focused properly on their own, without mechanical aids.
“Of course, one could argue that God never intended us to watch TV all night long, or to read so much, or to sit in front of computers, or to do delicate work with our hands. But poor eyesight is not just a modern ailment. The ancient Indians of North America used to have their own eye tests. The second-last star in the handle of the Big Dipper is actually a double star. On a clear night, a person with normal vision should be able to easily see a second, fainter star very close to the main one; that’s the test the Indians used.
“And the ancient Greeks used the Seven Sisters of the Pleiades star cluster in Taurus the Bull as an eye test—could you see all seven? Well, today, even with normal vision, only six are clearly visible—one of the Pleiades stars has dimmed over the millennia. But the fact that ancient peoples had eye tests proves that poor vision is hardly something new.”
Dale glanced at the jury, then looked back at the Canadian scientist. “Still, Dr. Smathers, surely the question of focus is a minor one. Surely, in its overall design, the perfection of the eye demonstrates the existence of a divine creator?”
“No, it does not,” said Smathers. “The eye, in fact, is incompetently designed. No engineer would ever do it that way. Remember I mentioned three fundamental components—the lens, the retina, and the optic nerve? Well, a sensible design would have the retina connected to the optic nerve at the back—so that the optic nerve doesn’t obscure the light coming from the lens to the retina.
“But our eye is wired up ass-backward—forgive me, Your Honor—with the optic nerve connecting to the retina in the front. Our vision would be sharper if the light coming through the lens didn’t have to pass through layers of neural tissue before reaching the retina. It’s degraded further by the fact that there’s also a network of blood vessels on top of the retina to service that neural tissue.
“And, if all that weren’t bad enough, the nerve tissue has to make a channel through the retina to come out at the back of the eye and head on to the brain. That channel causes a blind spot in each eye. We’re not normally aware of it, because our brain fills in the missing visual information with an extrapolated picture, but I’m sure many people in this court have done the easy experiments that let you demonstrate that you do have a blind spot in your vision. The loss of image quality I mentioned earlier and the blind spot simply would not be necessary if our eyes had been designed logically, with the neural wiring behind, rather than in front, of the retina.”
Ziegler rose again. “Really, Your Honor, I must renew my objection. Where is all this going?”
“The Court is baffled, Mr. Rice,” said Pringle.
“I need but a moment more to finish with this witness, Your Honor.”
“Very well, Mr. Rice. But no more than that.”
“Thank you.” Dale looked at Smathers. “You were talking about the loss of image quality due to the backward wiring of the human eye. But surely, Professor, what you’re really saying is simply that you haven’t perceived the wisdom of God’s design. We can’t build an artificial eye yet, after all. Perhaps there’s something fundamental that we’re unaware of that requires the apparently incompetent design you’ve mentioned.”
“No, there’s not. It’s true that we can’t build eyes yet, but nature builds them all the time. And because nature operates by trial and error through evolution, sometimes she gets it wrong, as in our eyes, but other times she gets it right. It’s often said that octopuses and squids have eyes very similar to human eyes, and they do. But theirs evolved independently of ours, and are wired properly, with all the neural tissue behind the retina. Neither an octopus nor a squid has blood vessels or neural tissue diffusing the light falling on its retina, and neither of them has blind spots. Far from being proof of divine creation, Mr. Rice, the human eye is one of the best proofs of the fact of evolution.”
CHAPTER
32
“On the record now, in California v. Hask. The jury is not present. All right, Mr. Rice, you may proceed.”
“Your Honor, I’d like to speak in support of the two defense motions Ms. Katayama filed yesterday.”
“Go ahead.”
“First, on the matter of our new witness—”
“I don’t like new witnesses this late in the game, counselor,” said Pringle.
“Nor do I. But this is a special instance. The witness is Dr. Carla Hernandez, who assisted in the surgery on Hask. Obviously, she had no involvement with Hask until he was shot, so there was no way she could have been deposed earlier.”
“Your Honor,” said Linda Ziegler, “this case is about the murder of Cletus Calhoun. Anything that might have happened after that murder is irrelevant to the proceedings at hand.”
“Dr. Hernandez’s testimony does relate to matters that occurred before the murder,” said Dale.
“Very well,” said Pringle. “I’ll allow it.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Now, about my motion that the other Tosoks be barred from the courtroom during Dr. Hernandez’s testimony—”
“I can see barring the Tosoks on the witness list, if what Hernandez is going to say might influence their testimony, but that only applies to Kelkad, Stant, Ged, and Dodnaskak.”
“As you can see in my brief,” said Dale, “I may wish to expand the witness list, as a direct result of Dr. Hernandez’s testimony.”
“All right,” said Pringle. “I’ll order all of them out of the room, and I’ll ask them to avoid the media coverage of Hernandez’s testimony.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Now, to my other request—that the lawyers and the jury be allowed to tour the Tosok mothership.”
Linda Ziegler spread her arms in an appeal for basic common sense. “The People strenuously object to this bit of theater, Your Honor. The murder took place on Earth. Now, if Mr. Rice felt there was a need for the jury to tour the crime scene at the University of Southern California, the People might indeed support him in such a motion. But the only reason for wanting the jury to see the alien ship is so that they can be awed by it.”
“The Court is inclined to agree,” said Pringle. “Mr. Rice, I see nothing
in your brief that makes me want to grant your request. Besides, you had your chance during the discovery phase to request any evidence you thought was necessary.”
“Your Honor,” said Dale, “the defense believes that Dr. Hernandez’s testimony will suggest a further line of inquiry that can only be accommodated aboard the mothership.” He turned to Ziegler. “The police should have searched the accused’s home, as a matter of course. That no search was done is surely the People’s fault, and we should be entitled to a wide-ranging remedy for that oversight.”
Ziegler spread her arms again. “Your Honor, for Pete’s sake, the Tosok mothership is hardly located within the jurisdiction of the LAPD. It’s not in anyone’s jurisdiction. No one can issue a valid search warrant for it.”
“But if Captain Kelkad agrees to let the jury—”
“No,” said Judge Pringle, shaking her head. “No, even if he agrees, it doesn’t matter. There are all kinds of liability issues here. If one of the jurors were to be injured, the lawsuits would be incredible.”
“We could ask the jurors to sign waivers,” said Dale.
“And if even one of them chooses not to?” said Pringle. “Then we’re looking at a mistrial.”
“There are alternates—”
“I’m not going to manufacture a situation in which we have to dip into the alternate pool again. No, Mr. Rice, if you think there’s evidence aboard the mothership, find a way to present it in my courtroom. Now let’s get the jury in here, and get back to work.”
Dale glanced at the double row of empty Tosok chairs, then turned back to face the judge’s bench. “The defense calls Dr. Carla Hernandez,” he said.
The woman was sworn in and took her place in the witness box.
“Dr. Hernandez,” said Dale, “what’s your job title?”
“I’m chief of surgery at the Los Angeles County-University of Southern California Medical Center.”
“And in that capacity, did you have an opportunity to assist in surgery on a Tosok patient?”
“I did.”
“Please describe the circumstances of that.”
“The defendant Hask was shot on May eighteenth. He required immediate surgery to remove a bullet still lodged in his chest. Another Tosok named Stant performed the surgery, and it was my privilege to provide assistance to Stant while this was being done.”
“When surgery is performed on a human, is the human normally fully clothed?”
Hernandez smiled. “No.”
“In fact, the area in which the surgery is being performed is usually naked, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Were Hask’s clothes removed before the surgery was performed on him?”
“I removed his tunic, yes, then covered most of the torso with sterile sheets so that only the entrance wound was exposed.”
“Did you do this before or after Stant entered the operating theater?”
“Before. Stant was receiving hurried instruction on using our operating instruments in the adjacent, identical theater.”
“So only you saw Hask’s naked torso in its entirety that day.”
“No, three nurses also saw it.”
“But Stant never actually saw it?”
“That’s correct. Stant had me close the wound once the bullet was removed. Stant had left the operating theater by the time the sheets were taken off Hask’s body.”
“When you saw Hask’s naked torso, did you notice anything unusual?”
“Well, everything about Tosok anatomy is unusual. As a doctor, I was fascinated by every aspect of it.”
“Of course, of course,” said Dale. “What I meant was this: was the bullet entrance wound the only sign of recent injury to Hask’s torso?”
“No.”
“What other signs were there?”
“I saw three raised, dark-purple lines on his torso.”
“Did these lines remind you of anything you’d seen before?”
“Yes.”
“And what would that be?”
“Well, except for the color, they looked like recent scars.”
“What kind of scars?”
“Well, normally I’d say they were untreated injury scars, but…”
“What do you mean by ‘normally’?”
“Well, a surgical scar will usually be flanked left and right by small dots of scar tissue, caused by the sutures used to seal the wound.”
“So these weren’t surgical scars?”
“On the contrary, I think they were indeed. Stant told me that his people don’t use suture—at least not anymore—to close wounds. But a wound has to be closed somehow; otherwise, it simply gapes open. These were very neat, very precise lines—the kind one gets with a scalpel. And they clearly had been closed somehow.”
Dale reached into a bag on his desk and pulled out a Tosok doll; Mattel had rushed them to market shortly after the aliens had arrived on Earth. “Dr. Hernandez, using this doll, would you indicate where you recollect the scars being?”
“Certainly.” She started to leave the box, but Dale motioned for her to stay there. He walked through the well and handed her the doll and a purple Magic Marker.
“The first one was here,” she said, drawing a line vertically between the front arm and the left leg near the bottom of the torso.
“The second was here,” she said, drawing a horizontal line well below the left-front breathing orifice.
“And the third was here,” she said, making a diagonal line behind and just to the left of the front arm. “There could have been other scars, as well; I never saw Hask’s back.”
“Now, Dr. Hernandez,” said Dale, “you are the only human ever to assist in a surgical procedure on a Tosok, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And have you followed the revelations that have been made during this trial and elsewhere about Tosok anatomy?”
“Yes. As you know, the Tosoks are not at all forthcoming about such matters, but there’s an Internet newsgroup devoted to what we’ve been able to glean about Tosok physiology; I’ve been on that from the day it started.”
“If these scars were left behind from surgical incisions, what areas of Tosok anatomy would the surgery likely have concentrated on?”
“One of the four Tosok hearts, one of the four Tosok lungs, and one of the four organs that we’ve gathered serves a combined function similar to what our separate kidneys and spleen perform.”
“Thank you, Dr. Hernandez. Your witness, counselor.”
Ziegler rose warily. She clearly had no idea what Dale was getting at. Still, her natural instinct was to discredit anything the defense tried to enter into evidence. “Dr. Hernandez, have you examined Hask since you closed the bullet entrance wound on him?”
“No.”
“Does he still have the stitches you put in him?”
“No.”
“What happened to them?”
“Stant removed them, I’m told.”
Ziegler paused for breath, presumably expecting a “Hearsay!” objection from Dale, but it didn’t come. She pressed on. “But you put in the stitches yourself.”
“Well, putting stitches in requires a certain skill. Taking them out is easy—you just snip the suture with scissors, then pull the threads out. Stant had asked me how it was done, and I told him; he said he was sure he could manage it himself.”
“So you’ve never actually seen Tosok scar tissue, correct?”
“I believe I have, yes, in the three places I indicated on the doll.”
“But you’ve never seen what you were sure was Tosok scar tissue.”
“Not a hundred percent sure, no, but in my best expert medical judgment, that’s what it was.”
“But, Dr. Hernandez, we all know that Tosoks shed their skin—we even saw it happen in this courtroom. Surely any old scars are discarded with the old skin.”
“Human beings replace all their skin cells over a seven-year period, Ms. Ziegler. And yet I’ve got scars I’ve had sin
ce childhood. My judgment from having seen the bullet wound on Hask is that the Tosok body covering is multilayered, and that the so-called new skin revealed when old skin is shed is already many years old, but simply never has been exposed at the surface before. Indeed, it would have to be thus if we’re to believe that shedding of the old skin can be induced at any time. If you carved right through all the layers of skin, into the organ cavity, I’m sure you would leave scars that would survive the shedding of the outer skin.”
“But what about the Tosok recuperative powers? We heard earlier in testimony from Captain Kelkad that Tosoks can regenerate damaged organs. Surely beings that can do that would not have scars that persisted for long?”
“One has nothing to do with the other,” said Hernandez. “Scar tissue isn’t a replacement for the skin that’s normally there—it’s a supplement, a natural attempt to help close the injury site and protect it from being damaged again. No one knows for sure, of course, but it’s my expert opinion that the scars on Hask’s body are of relatively recent origin, but predate his most recent skin shedding.”
During the lunch break, Frank and Dale went for a walk. First, of course, they had to push through the crowd of reporters and onlookers, but once that was done, they made their way onto Broadway. It was a bright day, and as they left the courtroom Dale put on his sunglasses. Frank, meanwhile, took a pair of clip-ons out of his jacket pocket and affixed them to his normal glasses.
And then he stopped dead in his tracks. “That’s what’s been bothering me!”
“Pardon?” said Dale.
“Alpha Centauri—the Tosoks. Something just hasn’t quite added up about them.” Frank started walking again, and Dale fell in next to him. “I even went over to the PBS studios to look at Clete’s old show on Alpha Centauri. What do you know about Alpha Centauri?”
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