Under the Eye of God (19 page)

Sitting in the dock, Sawyer nudged his brother. “You can almost smell the blood-lust.”

“I wish you wouldn't talk like that.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like an elephant booger. Green and slimy. Leave me alone.”

Abruptly, the murmur of excitement rose. A magnificently clad Herald had entered the room. He wore a stiff red square tunic with the Imperial shield emblazoned on the front of it in evanescent gold. A flutter of gasps came from the audience; both the men and the women reacted visibly to the beauty of this young Phaestor. He stepped up onto his perch and the crowd began quieting. The buzz of speculation, hovering above the room like a swarm of lies, diminished quickly as all the various liars and lawyers came to attention.

“By the special appointment of Lady Zillabar,” the Herald announced in a voice like a violin, “Lord Drydel will now hear all outstanding matters before the Regency.” The last few whispers faded away.

Lord Drydel entered then, and took his place behind the high desk at the front of the court. Lady Zillabar entered quietly at the side of the room and settled herself in a curtained reviewing box. Drydel could see her; almost no one else could. He settled himself and began organizing his papers. He had extensive notes on the podium in front of him. Plus, he had a screen that relayed Lady Zillabar's thoughts as well.

In the dock, among others, sat an Imperial warrior-lizard named Kask, a traitor named Lee-1169, former High Justice Harry Mertz, a scraggly tracker named Sawyer Markham, and his equally disreputable-looking brother Finn Markham. Drydel noted with interest that Finn Markham did not look well.

Lord Drydel spent a few moments poring over the various petitions in front of him, before deciding to get the nastiest one out of the way first. He handed it to the Bailiff who logged it and handed it to the Herald. The Herald stepped up onto his podium and called, “Lord Drydel will now hear the matter of Star-Captain Neena Linn-Campbell and her special petition seeking redress in the matter of an appropriated LIX-class bioform.”

Captain Campbell stepped boldly forward. She wore a black uniform and a black travelling cape. Behind her came a husky-looking female android and a sullen-faced high-gravity dwarf. All three took their places at the bar and waited respectfully.

Drydel laid the petition aside and studied the Star-Captain with curiosity. He didn't see many human women on Thoska-Roole.
³³
He assumed that other humans might admire her presumption in dressing like a Phaestor aristocrat; himself, he found it arrogant and offensive. No matter. He would decide this case on its merits alone—as he always did.

He waved a hand languidly toward the human woman. “Do you wish to address this issue?”

“My Lord—” She acknowledged his rank with a curt nod. “Agents of the Customs and Immigration Authority boarded my landing shuttle and performed an illegal search. They seized the person of my first officer, a LIX-class bioform. The Authority maintains that the bioform had no license for this world; but the bioform never left the confines of the shuttlecraft, and therefore never left the legal territory of my vessel,
The Lady MacBeth
. Therefore the officers had no right to seize the creature. I demand its immediate return. You have copies of my guardianship papers attached to the petition.”

Lord Drydel exchanged a smile with Lady Zillabar, then looked back to the arrogant Star-Captain. “This court has read and studied your petition. We acknowledge that the officers of the Immigration Authority acted with impropriety and we have issued a stern warning to them that such flagrant disobedience of the law has no place in a civilized society. However, as we have studied this matter in some detail, we must also find that the guardianship papers of this bioform have no validity in a Regency court—”

Captain Campbell's expression hardened with sudden fury. She looked like she wanted to say a good deal more, but she prudently held her silence. Lord Drydel looked down from the bench at her with a deliberate smile, then continued.

“—due to the direct and immediate failure of Captain Campbell to secure appropriate licensing and registration from the offices of the Confluence of Bioform Management. Therefore, the Regency denies your claim of proprietorship.” It pleased Drydel to see the Star-Captain's suppressed rage. He would enjoy the next part immensely. “The Regency has accepted custody of the LIX bioform, designate Ota. We have already transported the beast to a detainment center for reassignment. Next case—”

“I challenge this appropriation.” Neena Linn-Campbell interrupted. “By what authority does the Regency assume custody of my personal servant?”

Drydel maintained his cold smile. “Perhaps you remain unaware of the reconstruction of authority that has occurred here. Because of the very real possibility for civil unrest, the Regency has had to assume full custody of all unlicensed, unsecured bioform entities on Thoska-Roole. The order became effective last night.”

“Excuse me, m'Lord—?” The interruption startled Drydel. For a brief instant, he had no idea who had spoken. Then he recognized the voice and refocused his attention. Justice Harry Mertz had stood up in the dock to speak. Now, he added, “I advised you last night that such an order would have no merit under the law. You leave me no choice, but to speak now and declare that order illegal.”

A murmur of consternation swept through the court. Drydel tapped at the bell on his desk again and again until silence returned to the bright paneled chamber.

Drydel knew better than to declare Mertz out of order. In fact, he had planned on having Mertz in the courtroom for precisely this declaration. The fat fool's interruption had come at the perfect moment. Almost everyone in the room recognized High Justice Harry Mertz, but for the record, Drydel asked, “Sir, would you please make yourself known to this court?”

“I go by the name of Harry Mertz. I hold the office of Arbiter of Thoska-Roole. I admit, that my placement here in the dock instead of in the advisory box, appears unusual—but considering the current state of affairs, I cannot think of any place more appropriate for me to sit. Nevertheless, my dear Lord Drydel, I speak to you as a friend of the court, as mandated by my office. And I repeat, I hereby declare this order illegal under the charter of the Regency under the rule of which all sentient species share equal privileges and equal responsibilities
under the law
.”

Drydel glanced quickly to Lady Zillabar for direction. She shook her head curtly. Drydel nodded his agreement.

“An interesting position, Citizen Mertz,” Drydel replied slowly. He hesitated while he selected his next words with care. “But you have presumed an authority which you do not have. You yourself, in fact, have acknowledged that the office of Arbiter exists only as an honorary position.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but Drydel held up one exquisitely manicured hand to stop him. “Additionally, Citizen Mertz, I must point out that even if this court could recognize your office, your arguments would still carry no legal merit.” Drydel looked through the papers on his desk. He found the one he wanted and touched it with an extended index finger. He slid it away from the others, licked his lips as he read it. “In order to secure domestic tranquility here on Thoska-Roole, and to ease the process of determining the fair and equitable allocation of personal and property rights in the courts of the world, the Regency authorities have had to reconstruct the definition of
sentience
. We recognize that certain other classes of artificial entities, have substantial cognitive and language skills and that these skills represent a significant simulation of consciousness. Nevertheless—” Drydel glanced smugly across the ornate courtroom. “—Nevertheless, the true quality of sentience lies not only in an entity's ability to communicate rationally, but in the much larger domain of personal responsibility; and in that regard, we do not mean the small responsibilities of personal survival, but the much larger obligations and commitments that one has toward one's family, one's society, and even for the survival and success of the communities of all sentients as expressed in the Regency Charter. By that definition, we have no choice but to find that certain classes of creature do not qualify as sentient—”

Harry snorted. Loudly.

“I beg your pardon?” Lord Drydel interrupted himself. He glanced across the courtroom to Harry Mertz, one delicate eyebrow arched skeptically. The spectators looked back and forth between the High Bench and the prisoner's dock. Captain Campbell took advantage of the confusion to whisper something to Robin. The android did not allow her concern to show, but she began measuring the distance to the exits.

Harry spread his hands in apology and spoke with deference. “Please excuse my impolite and emotional outburst. Such explosive displays of emotion have no place in a civilized courtroom—but, with all due respect, your declaration has a fececious
³⁴
quality that I have not seen in a legal argument since the worm Ouroboros ate its own tail.” Unwilling to wait for Drydel's comprehension of the analogy, Arbiter Harry Mertz continued quickly. “Regency laws prohibit robots, bioforms, androids, uplifted-intelligence animals, and certain other augmented entities from holding positions of social status, responsibility, or economic impact. Now, by virtue of the fact that such entities do not hold such positions, this decree denies the possibility of sentience and the claims to legal protections contained therein. Frankly, sir,” Mertz concluded, “I expected much better from you than this. I can only confess my great dismay and disappointment in such shoddy legal reasoning.”

And, having said all that, Harry Mertz sat down again. Lee patted him once on the shoulder. “Well said,” he whispered. Sawyer and Finn glanced over and shook their heads in regret; they admired Harry's courage, but retained serious doubts about his wisdom in challenging the court so bluntly.

For his part, Drydel remained calm. He pushed the paper aside, folded his hands together and leaned forward in his seat. “Nevertheless, Citizen Mertz, the court remains bound to follow the law, however sound or unsound the reasoning behind it.” To Captain Campbell, he said, “The ruling stands. The Regency has taken custody of the bioform, Ota. May I suggest to you that you accept this in all good grace, lest the Regency also decide to examine the status of the robot and android members of your crew.”

He turned his attention back to the other prisoners in the dock. “As you have brought yourself so directly to the attention of the court, I will now read the court's ruling on the dispositions of the responsibilities relevant to your case.” He looked directly at Harry Mertz. “You will live out the rest of your days in the labor camps. The same sentence will apply to your fellow conspirators in the dock.” Drydel read through their names, quickly and without real interest. “Lee-1169, the Dragon Kask, Sawyer Markham, Finn Markham, et al.”

“Hey!” said Sawyer, leaping to his feet. “Don't we get a trial?”

Drydel didn't even glance up. “You just had it,” he replied. “Take them away.”

As they filed out, Lord Drydel turned his attention back to Star-Captain Neena Linn-Campbell. “I see that you still wait. You have another matter? Another request, perhaps?”

Neena Linn-Campbell met Drydel's glance without fear. “Brinewood,” she said. “This planet needs a dose of brinewood.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never mind.”

Captain Campbell crossed to the side of the room and abruptly yanked back the curtain shielding Lady Zillabar from the gaze of the lesser people. “I thought so,” she said. The Lady flung herself back in horror, so off balance by this effrontery that the shock actually registered on her face. “You've staged this whole charade for my benefit, haven't you?” Captain Campbell accused.

Lady Zillabar stood up, seething. “You forget yourself!” she hissed and spat.

Robin grabbed at Captain Campbell's arm. “Captain, please—we have no legal recourse here. Let's go.”
Let's go before you get us jailed for treason—or worse
.

Campbell suddenly realized the danger that her outburst had put them in. She let go of the curtain and turned quickly back to Drydel. “May we take leave of this court?” she asked, politely curtseying.

Drydel missed the sarcasm. He glanced to Zillabar. No help there. The Lady had already swept out of her box. Drydel dismissed Star-Captain Campbell with a gesture; he had reached the limit of his authority. Captain Campbell turned and exited swiftly, followed by her dwarf and her android, both hurrying to keep up.

Lord Drydel watched them go with little pleasure. Despite his rulings, he did not feel triumphant.

Above and behind MesaPort lies a range of stiff jagged mountains, all tumbled and broken with ghastly canyons. Here, the unwary explorer will find places where the surface of the world looks shattered, as if by the repeated blows of a gigantic axe. At the bottom of Death Canyon, for instance, the ground opens up in a terrible deep crack that smokes with hellish fumes and gases.

Here lies the garbage pit of a civilization that doesn't care. At the bottom of the canyon, a dismaying sprawl of garbage, junk, and sewage stretches away into the distance, the detritus of a thousand years. The reek of decay hangs over everything like a burdensome cloud. Things live in the garbage, prowl and hunt through the discarded slag—disturbing things,
hungry
things.

Here, lost among the ruins, wander the forgotten and condemned of Thoska-Roole, a dreadful population of renegades, runaways, and rebels—the remnants and wreckage of a higher, now unreachable, plane of life; every form save one has its representatives here. The bottom of Death Canyon resembles nothing so much as a narrow slice of Hell.

A pair of spidery elevators climbs up and down the sheer side of the MesaPort cliff, providing the only access between the city and its dreadful underside. Today, the clunking cabins released a wretched group.