The girl frowned. "Duckfoot gave you that?"
"Yes."
"Well, what is it that it makes you sure of?"
Diane opened the locket, withdrew a folded piece of paper, then carefully unfolded it. She held the paper out to Tyli. "That he's my husband."
Tyli half strangled on a mouthful of food. When she had finished coughing, she looked at Diane's kind face, then at the marriage contract. She looked back at Diane. "But... but, you're so beautiful!"
Diane smiled. "And so's Duckfoot."
Sweetie Pie, the Moss Haired Girl, did not have her mind on her work for that evening's performance, and did not hear the call as it worked its way through the show people. "Sherry your nibs! Coppers on Sweetie Pie!" She sat on a chair, pondering a new feeling of loneliness, watching the customers watch her. A sharp jab hit her in the arm and she turned toward Bubbles. "What'd you do that for?"
"Sherry your nibs." Bubbles whispered out of the side of her mouth. "What?"
"Sherry your nibs, Sweetie Pie. Coppers."
Tyli's eyes darted about in her head. "Where? Bubbles, where do I go?"
"Get off the stage and hide in the flaps of the kid show top. Move!"
Tyli stood, went to the back of the stage, and ran down the stairs. She looked about, found a fold in the canvas where it was pulled aside for the entrance to the dressing top, then she ran and hid in the fold. She waited for what seemed like years, until her heart stopped at the sound of Chaine's voice. "She's with this show somewhere. My brother told me she had on a big white wig."
Another voice, deep and cold. "You up there!"
"Yes, cutie?" answered Bubbles's voice.
"Where is Tyli Strang?"
"I don't know any Tyli Strang, cutie, but if you're buying, I'm selling. Isn't he one hunk of man, folks?"
Laughter. "No nonsense. I want Tyli Strang!"
"But, cutie, I want you!" More laughter.
"Now, just a minute, buster!" wheezed the eighty-pound Ossified Man. "You better quit making a play for my wife or I'll come down there and give you what for!" More laughter.
"Hey lady, whatcha doin' in there?"
Tyli turned to her left and saw a small boy gawking at her. "Go away."
"Why's your hair look funny?"
"Go away!"
The little boy pouted, then rubbed an eye as he pointed at Tyli and began screaming. A man ran up and placed a hand on the little boy's shoulder. "What happened, son?" The man looked at Tyli. "What did you do to him?"
"Nothing, noth..." The canvas was whipped aside and Tyli found herself looking into the face of a large, tall, Doldran Officer of Police. Standing a few feet behind the copper was her Uncle Chaine, smiling.
The copper grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the tent. "Tyli Strang, you are under arrest upon complaint of your guardian." She saw several other officers in the crowd, and two of them were hauling the Governor to a police van. A crowd of canvasmen rushed around the sideshow stage, each one carrying one of Duckfoot's toothpicks. The officers dropped their hands to their guns.
"Hold your bosses!" Tyli heard Duckfoot's voice, then saw him as he mounted the stage. He pointed a finger at the roughnecks. "Drop those sticks. All of you! Now!" The canvasmen looked at Tyli, the officers, then at Duckfoot. She looked at Duckfoot as the officer began dragging her off.
"Duckfoot! Duckfoot!"
One of the canvasmen reached down to pick up a tent stake. The last Tyli saw of the Boss Canvasman, he was leaping through the air to tackle the roughneck who had disobeyed his orders.
THIRTEEN
The judge, wearing what Tyli recognized as a mountain revolutionary's rosette on his black collar, turned his emotionless face toward the charging officer. "What charges do the police bring before this court, and who is it that is to be charged?"
A captain of police moved from a side table and halted before the judge's bench. "The first charge is desertion from a lawfully appointed guardian, and the one so charged is Tyli Strang." The captain pointed at Tyli. She stood to the left of the bench, her hands shackled in front of her. Similarly shackled, the Governor stood next to her studying the judge's face. "The second charge is attempted abduction of a minor from the planetary population, and the one so charged is John J. O'Hara." The captain pointed.
The judge lifted a sheaf of papers and held them out toward the captain. "Identify these."
The captain moved closer to the bench, examined the papers, then nodded. "Those are the facts concerning the charges now before the court."
The judge turned toward Tyli and the Governor. "Have copies of these charges been made available to both of you?"
Tyli nodded, her eyes wide with fear. The Governor frowned. "Judge, are we allowed to have someone represent us in one of your trials?"
The judge nodded. "If you wish. Is your representative in the court?"
The Governor looked over his shoulder at the half-empty room. Neither Patch nor Duckfoot was there. "I'm sorry, Judge, but he isn't here yet."
The judge looked back at the papers in his hands. "Then, we shall proceed. Whenever your representative shows, he may continue your defense." The judge turned toward the clerk. "We are ready, then. Under the charge of desertion, record Tyli Strang; under the charge of attempted abduction, record John J. O'Hara. Under both charges: for the police, record Captain Hansel Mendt; for the court," the judge turned toward O'Hara, "record Anthony Sciavelli."
Tyli saw the Governor silently form the name "Sciavelli" with his lips, then an officer led the two to the defendants' dock where they remained as the police captain began his argument. The entire time, O'Hara stared at the judge.
That evening in the holding room, Tyli watched the Governor standing before the room's only window, staring at his own thoughts. "Mr. John?"
He turned and looked at the Moss Haired Girl. At the center of her enormous ball of white hair two wide, frightened eyes searched the Governor's face for hope. "Doesn't look good, does it. Sweetie Pie?"
Tyli looked at the rough plank floor. "I'm sorry. I know Duckfoot got you into this because of me."
O'Hara walked over and stopped beside her. "Look at me!" Tyli looked up into his face and saw the blackest frown that she had ever seen on anything, with the possible exception of Gorgo, the gorilla in the menagerie. "I am John J. O'Hara. Nobody gets me into anything I don't want to get in."
"Yes, Mr. John." Tyli watched as O'Hara went back to the window, then again, lost himself in thought. "Mr. John?"
Without moving, the Governor answered. "What is it?"
"Who is Anthony Sciavelli?"
"The judge."
"I know that, but who is he? I saw you looking at him like you knew him."
The Governor looked down, pursed his lips, then looked up at the night sky. "I guess if your digs had been in with the flyers you would have heard about Sciavelli. L'Uccello. That means 'The Bird.' That's what he was called twenty-five years ago: L'Uccello." The Governor faced Tyli. "You should have seen him on the trapeze, like liquid fire whirling through the air. A bird is such a clumsy creature compared to Sciavelli against the canvas of the main top."
"He was with your show on Earth?"
The Governor nodded, then turned back to the window. "Anthony, his wife Clia, and his brother Vito were the Flying Sciavellis. The two seasons they were with us were the best the show ever had." He held out his hands. "Everything else in the show was just filler. The push came to see the Flying Sciavellis." O'Hara lowered his hands, then rubbed his chin as he continued to stare out of the window. "Anthony and Clia were the perfect lovers. If it hadn't been for their act, they probably would have been famous just for how much they were in love." O'Hara turned and shrugged. "It's a very old story."