“And you believe her explanation, do you?”
“I didn’t at first.”
“Until?”
“Until I asked her about the solar flare her mother had predicted. She laughed. Stuck out like a severed thumb because it was the first time I’d heard either of them do that.”
“Laughed why?”
“Hard to say. But I don’t think I could forget what she followed up with if you hypnotized me.”
“What was that, professor Bonman?”
“Never will the world have seen a lie told to its greater benefit. If only she’d minded the harsh lessons with half the attention she paid the convenient ones.”
Bo was taken aback for the first time he could recall. Even the sight of Ma’am’s sail unfurling before him, even the taste of the milk on his tongue; even those had not struck him with such force that the gears in his minds were ground to a halt. The doctor was taken aback, and he would regret the tax he paid in seconds.
“What does that have to do with her blindness to - to quantum nuance? How-”
“Time is up, Dr. Nilsson.”
“Please, your honor, one more question.”
“Your time is up, Dr. Nilsson. Gentlemen, see him to his cell and be damn sure there isn’t a word between you. The last thing I want to do tomorrow is reconvene this court with a new pair of co-defendants.”
“Your honor, I beg you!”
“Good bye, Bo. We’ll be sure to let you know how deliberations went.”
Dr. Nilsson’s appeals were many, heard in echoes long after his stone faced detail whisked him from sight. Most of the audience was already making for the same door when the stenographer whispered a concern into the judge’s ear.
“Stay put, people. Just a little clerical matter to clear up and then you’ll get your bathroom breaks. Professor Bonman, would you be so kind as to state the name of Ma’am’s ‘offspring’? I’m told it didn’t come up, but we’ll need it if we mean to keep our records tidy.”
“I would love to, your honor, but she hasn’t decided on one.”
“Decided? Was she given a book of baby names and a deadline?”
“Not exactly. We asked her what she’d like to be referred to and she rattled off two possibilities, on the spot. Since then, any time I ask her to pick between them she just… freezes up.”
“Well, far be it from us to judge her for it. But we do need to jot something down. I’ll tell you what. Give me the options, we’ll choose our favorite, and maybe she’ll feel inclined to agree.”
“Can’t argue with that. Fair warning - they’re unconventional.”
“I’m sure I’ve seen worse. The first name?”
“The letter ‘P’, a dash, zero-zero-one.”
“And the second?”
“P-999. Same format.”
“Well, doesn’t that have a nice ring to it?”
Permian- Emissary of the Extinct Page 17