“Oh, I agree with them, too. That's why I'm drinking with you.” He uttered a long “Ahhh,” wiped his
mouth off, and passed the flask to Kominsky. “I want you to hunt up Braque as soon as you can. Assuming he hasn't been sleeping all afternoon, he should have figured out what form of communication passes for video on Atria XVI. Have him line up a couple of guys who can use the medium, and have them make a five-minute recording.”
“Of what?”
“Of an Atrian whose protective glove accidentally comes off while visiting Deluros VIII, thereby freezing fifty-seven Men to death.”
“Okay,” said Kominsky dubiously. “But...” “But what?”
“But I think the Atrian judge may sentence the actor to death for even pretending to take someone else's life.”
Khalinov just glared at him.
* * * *
The courtroom was filled by the press, Krantz's parents and their influential friends, Khalinov's staff and assistants, and a handful of beautiful, blue-white, grasslike creatures. Khalinov himself, terribly uncomfortable in his modified heat-and-oxygen suit, sat at a table some twenty feet from a large crystalline figure, who was either standing, sitting, squatting, kneeling, or lying down, Khalinov couldn't decide which.
“Has the defense anything to say before sentence is passed?” said the Atrian. The words were like delicate chimes, but they came out in flat, unaccented Galactic-O through Khalinov's T-pack. The lawyer rose to his feet.
“Your honor,” he said, “I have not even heard the charges against my client.” “Were you not sent a copy of our penal code, along with a report of Man Krantz's actions?” “Yes, but it is customary for the prosecuting attorney to state his case prior to the opening statement of the defense.”
“Whose custom are you referring to, Man Khalinov?” asked the judge. “Yours or ours?” “My apologies, your honor,” said Khalinov, bowing deeply. “That being the case, I would like to enter a plea of innocent to the charge of premeditated murder.” “I do not recall that the word ‘premeditated’ was included in the charges,” said the judge. “But it must have been implied, your honor,” said Khalinov, “or else some crime other than murder has been committed.”
“That is for me to decide,” said the Atrian. “You have waived trial by jury, for reasons best known to
yourself. Therefore, you have placed all responsibility for all decisions and interpretations solely upon me.
My interpretation is that under Atrian law, murder need not be premeditated, but is defined simply and explicitly as the taking of one or more Atrian lives, by any means whatsoever, with or without motive or preknowledge. Therefore, your claim is disallowed, on the grounds that the charge is not premeditated murder.”
“If my client pleads guilty, the trial will end immediately, will it not?” asked Khalinov. “Yes.”
“Then Heinrich Krantz pleads not guilty to the charge of murder.” “Even though you yourself know that he did in fact commit the crime?” asked the Atrian. “Even so,” agreed Khalinov, studying the Atrian's face for an expression of some kind, but finding none. “Later we may change the plea, but how else can I argue my client's case? After all, I am only obeying the rules of the court.”
“Using them to serve your own purposes,” corrected the judge. “Agreed,” said Khalinov. “Is it not my job to protect my client's interests in any way I can? We are ready for the prosecution to present its evidence now.” “I am also the prosecution,'’ said the judge. “I know as absolute fact that Man Krantz caused the death of fifty-seven Atrians in the following manner...” The T-pack droned on and on with an explicit recounting of the crime.
When the Atrian had finished, Khalinov arose again. “Your honor,” he said, “with the court's permission I should like to present a visual display.” He nodded toward two assistants, and they approached, bearing the Atrian equivalent of a tridimensional video receiver. “Does this exhibit bear directly upon your case?” asked the judge. “Or, more precisely, will it in any way prove that my information is faulty and that your client is innocent of the crime of murder?” “Not directly,” admitted Khalinov, “but it does have some relevance to the subject of murder on the planet Atria XVI, and as such—”
“The exhibit is disallowed,” interrupted the judge. “But your honor!”
“Man Khalinov,” said the judge, “the rulings of this court are not subject to debate or question. Your exhibit will not be permitted. If you cannot prove, absolutely and beyond question, that Man Krantz did not cause the deaths of fifty-seven Atrians, then you are wasting the court's time.” “I gather you've got plenty to waste!” snapped Khalinov. “A man's life is at stake here. I intend to see to it that he gets the best and most comprehensive defense of which I am capable.” “Well spoken,” said the Atrian, “but irrelevant.” “No more irrelevant than the lives of fifty-seven Atrians,” said Khalinov. “My client is a sentient being,
just as the deceased Atrians were. What is more relevant than his defense?”
The judge remained silent for a long moment, then spoke. “Continue.” “Thank you, your honor. With the court's permission, I should like to call as a witness Professor Nigel Patrick, of the University of—”
“One moment,'’ said the judge. “Was Man Patrick on Atria XVI at the time of the crime's commission?” “I object, your honor,” said Khalinov. “No crime has yet been proven.” “Your objection is overruled. In point of fact, the crime has not yet beendis proven.” “Then in answer to your question, no, Professor Patrick was not on Atria XVI at any time during his life prior to yesterday.”
“Then how,” asked the Atrian, “can Man Patrick possibly testify in support of your client?” “Professor Patrick holds a doctorate in Criminology and another in Ethics,” said Khalinov. “The defense shall attempt to show that on many similar worlds—” “Disallowed,” said the judge.
“Dammit, your honor!” bellowed Khalinov, though only soft tinkling chimes came through the T-pack. “How can I present a defense when you disallow all my exhibits and all my expert testimony?” “They are not germane to the case at hand,'’ said the Atrian. “If your exhibits and your witnesses cannot disprove the truth of the charges, then they are irrelevant.” “They are not irrelevant! It is your law that is irrelevant!” “Man Khalinov,” said the Atrian calmly, “our law is not on trial. Your client is. Please continue.” Khalinov lowered his head in thought, painfully aware of the fact that the newsmen and cameras were catching every instant of this fiasco. He was also aware that he had to keep talking, for the moment he stopped he'd be conceding defeat.
“Your honor,” he said, “you made a remark about your law not being put on trial. Has any law of yours ever stood trial?”
“No.'’
“Why not?” asked Khalinov.
“Because laws are neither guilty nor innocent, and therefore cannot be tried.” “But laws can be good or evil,” persisted Khalinov. “What would you do if you discovered that a law was evil?”
“Laws in themselves cannot be good or evil,” said the Atrian. “Therefore, your question is irrelevant.”
“But lawscan be practical or impractical, can they not?” said Khalinov. “For example, a law that
required me to argue before you without a T-pack would be impractical, wouldn't it? Or a law demanding that I not wear an outfit incorporating life-support systems?” “Agreed,” said the Atrian. “But we have no such laws.” “Please allow me to continue, since you've disallowed every other line of defense,” said Khalinov. “You may continue,” said the judge.