by neetha Napew
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The doorway fit the massive building; heavy bronze, I* centered with the Federation seal. Before Sassinak could reach, it opened flat against the wall for her. She entered the Grand Council chamber through a little alcove off the main room and just below the dais where the eight justices and the Speaker had their seats. Across from her, one wall appeared to be a single massive stone, a warm brown with gold flecks. Delegate seating curved around an open area below the dais, separated from the public seating behind by a tall barrier of translucent plastic. Each seat was actually the size of a sentry hut, or more, and in front of each delegate’s seat, a colorful seal inlaid in the chamber floor gave the member’s race and planet of reference. Sassinak could not see the public seating clearly, but it seemed to rake steeply toward a narrow balcony festooned with the tights and cables of recording and projection equipment. Seating for invited guests was enclosed in a railing somewhat like an old-fashioned jury box, although much larger. Already this was filling up, with rather more heavyworlders than Sassinak would have expected. That fit the rumors of an impending coup. She found three seats together, and settled in, with Aygar between her and one of the Wefts. Aygar said nothing to her, and she watched her other crew come in. The other Weft and the two marines found scattered seats where they could catch her eye.
She had never really wondered what the Grand Council chamber was like. The few times she’d seen it on broadcasts, the focus had been on the Speaker’s podium backed by the Federation seal. Now she looked up to see a high, ribbed ceiling, with dangling light pods. Behind the Speaker’s podium and the justice’s high-backed chairs, the great seal stood at least three meters high, its colors muted now in the dimmer light. From her seat, she could see through the plastic behind the delegates’ seats more easily and realized that, early as it was, the public seating was nearly full. At the far end of die arc formed by the delegates’ places, another enclosed seating area had only a sprinkling of occupants. She wondered if that was for witnesses. She could not
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see any of them clearly enough to know if Lunzie or Ford were there.
Soon the delegates began to come in, each preceded by an honor guard of Federation Insystem troops. Each delegate’s seat, Sassinak realized, was actually an almost self-contained environmental pod with full datalinks. She watched as the delegates tested their seats. Colored lights appeared, to show the vote. A clerk standing by the Speaker’s podium murmured into a microphone, confirming to the occupant the practice vote just cast.
A whiff of sulfur made her wrinkle her nose, as a steth of Lethi came in, looking like so many pale yellow puflballs stuck together into a vaguely regular geometric shape. They disappeared completely into their seat, closing a shiny panel behind them. Sassinak assumed they would open a sealed pack of sulfur inside, where it wouldn’t foul the air for anyone else. A pair of Bronthin arrived, conversing nose-to-nose in the breathy whuffles of their native speech. She had never seen Bronthin in real life. They looked even more like pale blue plush horses than their pictures. Hard to believe they were the best mathematicians among the known sentient races. A Ryxi, loaded with ceremonial chains and stepping with exaggerated care, clacked its beak impatiently. A second Ryxi scuttled into the room behind it, carrying a mesh bag in the claw of its right wing and hissing apologies. Or so Sassinak assumed. The Weft delegate arrived in Weft form, to Sassinak’s surprise. Then she was surprised at herself for being surprised. After all, as his race’s representative, why should he try to look human?
She was surprised again when the Sett came in. She had not expected to see them except in battle armor. But here they were, tail-ornaments jingling and necklaces swaying, their heavy tails sweeping from side to side as they strolled to their seats. She could read nothing of their expressions. Their scaled, snouted faces might have been intended to convey reassurance. Sassinak wondered suddenly if the Seti had politics as humans understood them. Did all Seti support the Sek, were they all involved in this invasion? Could the ambassadors be ignorant of the Sek’s plans?
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She gave herself a mental shake. Interpreting Seti politics was someone else’s responsibility. She had enough to do already. Rightly or wrongly, she had to assume they were part of it. She glanced around. Dark figures on the balcony slipped from one cluster of equipment to another. Lights appeared, narrowed or broadened in focus, changed color, disappeared again. Hie speaker’s podium suddenly glowed in a sunburst of spotlights, then retreated into the relative dimness of the overhead panels.
The crowd’s murmur grew, punctuated by a raised voice, a sneeze, a chain of coughs that began on one side and worked its way to the other. She could feel her skin tighten as the circulation fans went up a notch to maintain an even temperature. Now the legal staffs Involved came in, bustling in their dark robes, each with the little grey curl of a wig that looked equally ridiculous on humans and aliens. She wondered who had ever thought up that symbol of legal expertise and why everyone else had adopted it.
Federation Court guards, also heavyworlders, brought in Tanegli who looked as if he could barely walk. Beside her, she felt Aygar stiffen and wished she could take his hand. Anger radiated from him, then slowly faded. Had he realized how useless his hatred of Tanegli was? As useless as her hatred of the Paradens.
She shouldn’t think about that, not now, but the thought prickled the inside of her mind anyway. It was one thing to hunt them down for the wrong they had done, and another to let herself be shaped wholly by their malice. She couldn’t ignore that. Abe had said it, had told the woman he loved, had urged her to find Sassinak someday and tell her. And Lunzie, who had admired her descendant the cruiser captain, would not be so happy with an avenging harpy.
Hie lights flared, then dimmed, and a gong rang out. Spotlights stabbed through the gloom to illuminate the door they’d come in, where two huge heavyworlders now stood with ceremonial staves, which they pounded on the floor.
“All rise!” came a stentorian voice over the sound
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system, “for the Right Honorable, the Speaker of die Grand Council of the Federation of Sentient Planets, the Most Noble Eriach d’Ertang. And for the Most Honorable Lords Justice ...” The floor shook to another ceremonial pounding. The heavyworlder guards led in the procession.
The Speaker, a wiry little Bretagnan who looked dwarfed by the heavyworlders in front of him and the eight Justices behind him were each followed by a clerk of the same race carrying something on a silver tray. Sassinak had no idea what that was but overheard another guest explain to someone who asked that these were die Justices’ credentials, proof that they were each eligible to sit on that bench.
“Of course it’s all done by the computers, now,” the knowledgeable one murmured on. “But they still carry in the haracopy as if they needed it.” “And who are those men with the big carved things?” “Bailiffs,” came the explanation. “If I talk much more, they’ll be after me. They keep order.”
Sassinak found it very different from a military court. She assumed that part of the elaborate ceremony came from its combination with a Grand Council meeting. But there were long, flowery, introductory speeches welcoming the right noble delegate from this, and the most honorable delegate from that, while the lawyers and clerks muttered at one another behind a screen of hands, and the audience yawned and shuffled their feet. Each Justice had an introduction, equally flowery, during which he, she, or it tried not to squirm in the spotlight. Then the Speaker took over. He began with a review of the rules governing spectators, then guests, then witnesses, any infractions of which, he said slowly, would be met with immediate eviction by the bailiffs, “—to the prejudice of that issue to which the unruly individual or individuals appeared to be speaking, if that can be determined.”
Very different from court martials, Sassinak thought. She had never seen unruliness in a military court. Then came a roll call, another check of each delegate’s datalink to the Speaker’s podium, and the vot
ing displays of all
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delegates and Justices. By now, thought Sassinak, we could have been through with an entire trial.
At last the Speaker read out the agenda on which Tanegli’s trial appeared as “In the matter of the Federation of Sentient Planets vs. one Tanegli, and the related matter of the status of native-born children of Federation citizens on the planet Ireta!”
Sassinak felt Aygar’s shiver of excitement. The moment the Speaker had finished, one of the bewigged and gowned lawyers stood up. This, it seemed, was the renowned defense counsel Pinky Vigal. He seemed tame enough to Sassinak, a mild-mannered older man who hardly deserved the nickname Pinky. But she heard from the industrious explainer behind her that it had nothing to do with his appearance, coming rather from the closing argument in a case he had won many years back. This explanation, long and detailed, finally caught the attention of a bailiff who shook his staff at the guest seating box, instantly hushing the gossiper.
A formal dance of legality ensued, with Defense Counsel and the Chief Prosecutor deferring to one another’s expertise with patent insincerity, and the Justices inserting nuggets of opinion when asked. Pinky Vigal wanted to sever his client’s trial for mutiny, assault, murder, conspiracy, and so on from any consideration of the claims of those born on Ireta, inasmuch as recent evidence indicated that a noxious influence of the planet or its biosphere might be responsible for his behavior. And that evidence was so recent that his client’s trial should be put off until the defense had time to consider its import.
The Prosecutor insisted that the fate of Iretan native-borns, and of the planet itself, could not be severed from consideration of the crimes of Tanegli and the other conspirators. Defense insisted that taped depositions from witnesses were not adequate, and must not , be admitted into evidence, and the Prosecution insisted that they were admissable.
During all this, Tanegli sat slumped at his attorney’s side, hardly moving his head.
This boring and almost irrelevant legal dance seemed
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likely to take awhile. Sassinak had time to wonder again where the others were. Dupaynil she knew about, at least in outline, but what about Ford? She was sure that if Ford had been on a Seti ship, he’d have somehow taken control and arrived in time for the trial. But where was he? He was supposed to have acquired more backup troops. So far she’d seen nothing but heavy-worlders wearing Federation Insystem uniforms.
And Lunzie? Had she not made it back from Diplo? Had something happened to her there? Or here? Aygar could testify about what he’d been told by the heavy-worlders who reared him, damning enough to ensure conviction on some of the charges. But they needed Lunzie or Varian or Kai for the original mutiny.
Despite the briefings she’d had in both the local Fleet headquarters and the Chief Prosecutor’s office, Sassinak really did not understand exactly how this case would be tried or whose decision mattered most. A case like this didn’t fit neatly into any category although she’d realized that lawyers’ perspective would be far diflerent from hers. To them it was not a matter of right and wrong, of guilt or innocence, but of a tangle of competing jurisdictions, competing and conflicting statutes, possible alternative routes of prosecution and defense: a vast game-board in which it was “fan” to stretch all rules to their elastic limit.
She doubted that they ever thought of the realities: those people and places whose realities had no elasticity, whose lives were shattered with the broken laws, the torn social contract. Now the Justices finished handing down decisions on the initial requests and the Prosecutor opened with a history of the Iretan expedition.
Sassinak kept her mind on it with an effort- All the details of the EEC’s contracts, decisions, agreements, and subcontracts wafted in one ear and out the other. Lunzie’s version had been for more vivid. Display screens lit with the first of the taped testimony on data cube videos taken by the original expedition team, before the mutiny. There were the jungles, the golden flyers, the fringes, the dinosaurs ... a confusion of lifeforms. The expedition members, going about their tasks. The chil-
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dren trying hard to look appropriately busy for their pictures.
A light came on above one of the delegate’s seats and the translators broadcast the question in Standard.
“Are these the native born Iretan children making claim for the planet?”
“No, Delegate. These children’s parents lived aboard the EEC vessel, and given this furlough onplanet as an educational experience.”
The light stayed on, blinking, and another question came over the speaker system.
“Did the native born Iretan children send a representative?”
Sassinak wondered where that delegate had been for the past several days since Aygar’s involvement in her escapades had been all over the news media. The Chief Prosecutor looked as if he’d bitten into something sour and it occurred to Sassinak that the delegate might be already in the defense faction.
“Yes, Delegate, a representative of these children did come, but ...”
Aygar stood before Sassinak could grab him, and said, “I’m here!”
A chorus of hisses, growls, and the massive heavy-worlder bailiff nearest their box slammed his staff on the floor.
“Order!” he said.
Sassinak tugged on Aygar’s arm and he sat down slowly. The Speaker glared at the Chief Prosecutor.
“Did you not instruct your witness where he was to go and what the rules of this court are?”
“Yes, Speaker, but he disappeared in ... ah ... suspicious circumstances. He was abducted, apparently by a Fleet ...”
The Chief Prosecutor’s voice trailed away when he realized what that gold and white uniform next to Aygar must mean. Sassinak let herself grin, knowing that the media cameras would be zooming in on her face.
“Irregularities of this sort can precipitate mistrials,” said Pinky Vigal, with a sweetness of tone that affected Sassinak like honey on a sawblade. “If the Federation
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Prosecutor has not readied his witnesses, we shall have no objection to a delay.”
“No.” The Chief Prosecutor glared. Defense Counsel shrugged and sat down. “With the indulgence of the Speaker and Justices, and all Delegates here assembled”—the ritual courtesy rattled off his tongue so fest Sassinak could hardly follow it—“if I may call the Iretan witness and any other from the guest seating?”
Above the Justices’ seats, blue lights flashed, and the Speaker nodded.
“As long as you remember that it is indulgence, Mr. Prosecutor, and refrain from making a habit of it. We are aware of the unusual circumstances. And I suppose this may keep Defense from claiming your witnesses were coached excessively.”
Even Pinky Vigal chuckled at that, throwing his hands out in a disarming gesture of surrender that did not fool Sassinak one bit. She felt the rising tension in the chamber. Would Aygar’s presence make the conspirators here give their signal earlier or later? They must be wondering what other surprises could turn up. The delegate who had asked the original question had either understood this wrangling, or given up, because its light was out. The Prosecutor went on, outlining the events of the mutiny, of the attempted murder of the lightweights . . .
“Alleged attempted murder,” interrupted Pinky Vigal.
The Prosecutor smiled, bowed, and called for “Our first witness, Dr. Lunzie Mespil.”
Sassinak felt the surge of excitement from the crowd that almost overwhelmed her own. So Lunzie had made it! She saw a stir in the witness box, then a slim figure in Medical Corps uniform coming to the stand. Her pulse raced. Lunzie looked so young, so vulnerable, just like the younger sister that Sassinak had lost might have looked. Incredible to think that she had been alive a hundred years before Sassinak was born.
Lunzie began to give her evidence in the calm, measured voice that gradually eased the tension Sassinak felt. But a light flashed from one of the delegate�
�s seats, this time with an objection instead of a question.
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“This witness has no legal status 1 This witness is a thief and liar, a fugitive from justice!”
Sassinak stiffened and found that this time Aygar had grabbed her wrist to keep her down. Lunzie, white-iaced, had turned to the accusing delegate’s place.
“This witness pretended medical competence to gain entrance to Diplo, and then stole and escaped with valuable information vital to our planetary security. We demand that this witness’s testimony be discarded, and that she be returned to the proper authorities for trial on Diplo!”
More lights flashed. As the Prosecutor tried to answer the Diplo delegate, others had questions, comments, discussion. Finally the Speaker got them in order again, and spoke himself to Lunzie.
“Is this accusation true?”
“Not... in substance, sir.”
“In what way?”
“I did go to Diplo with a medical research team. My specialty and background suited me for the work. While there I was abducted, drugged, and put into coldsleep. I awoke here, on this planet, with no knowledge of the means of my departure from Diplo. I daresay it was illegal. I hope it was illegal to do that to a Federation citizen with a valid entrance visa.”
“You lie, lightweight!” The Diplo delegate had not waited for the translator. He’d used Standard himself. “You seduced a member of our government, stole data cubes ...”
“I did nothing of the sort!” Sassinak was amazed at Lunzie’s calm. She might have been an experienced teacher dealing with an unruly nine year old. “It is true that I met an old friend, who had become a government official, but as for seducing him . . . Remember that I had lost over forty years in coldsleep between our meetings. The handsome young man I remembered was now old and sick, even dying.”
“He’s dead now, yes.” That was vicious, in a tone intended to hurt, with implications clear to everyone.