Complaint Court was something like the ancient grand jury — an inquiry into whether or not a chargeable crime had been committed. The accusation was on trial there, not the accused.
“Well, you aren’t letting it get past there, are you?”
Before Brannhard could answer, Jack Holloway and Ernst Mallin came in. Holloway was angry, the tips of his mustache twitching and a feral glare in his eyes. He must have looked like that when he beat up Kellogg and shot Borch. Ernst Mallin looked distressed; he’d been in one criminal case involving Fuzzies, and that had been enough. Ahmed Khadra entered behind them, with Fitz Mortlake, the Company Police captain who was guardian-of-record for the other five Fuzzies. After more greetings, they all sat down.
“What are you going to do about this goddamned thing?” Jack Holloway began while he was still pulling up his chair. “You going to let that son of a Khooghra get away with this?”
“If you mean the Fuzzies, hell, no,” Brannhard said. “They’re not guilty of anything, and everybody, Ingermann included, knows it. He’s trying to bluff me into dropping the faginy and enslavement charges and letting his clients cop a plea on the burglary and larceny charges. He thinks I’m afraid to prosecute those faginy and enslavement charges. He’s right; I am. But I’m going ahead with them.”
“Well, but, my God… !” Jack Holloway began to explode. “What’s wrong with those charges?”
“Well, the faginy, now,” Brannhard said. “That’s based on the assumption that Fuzzies are equivalent to human children of ten-to-twelve, and that rests on a reversible judicial opinion, not on statute law. Ingermann thinks we’ll drop the charges rather than open the Fuzzies’ minor-child status to question, because that’s the basis of the whole Government Fuzzy policy.”
“And you’re afraid of that?”
“Of course he is,” Coombes said. “So am I, and so ought you to be. Just take the Yellowsand agreement. If the Fuzzies are legally minor children, they can’t control or dispose of property. The Government, as guardian-in-general of the whole Fuzzy race, has authority to do that, including leasing mineral lands. But suppose they’re adult aborigines. Even Class-IV aborigines can control their own property, and according to Federation Law, Terrans are forbidden to settle upon or exploit the ‘anciently accustomed habitation’ of Class-IV natives — in this case, Beta Continent north of the Snake and the Little Blackwater, which includes Yellowsand Canyon — without the natives’ consent. Consent, under Federation Law, must be expressed by vote of a representative tribal council, or by the will of a recognized tribal chief.”
“Well, Jesus-in-the-haymow!” Jack Holloway almost yelled. “There is no such damned thing! They have no tribes, just little family groups, about half a dozen in each. And who in Nifflheim ever heard of a Fuzzy chief?”
“Then, we’re all right,” he said. “The law cannot compel the performance of an impossibility.”
“You only have half of that, Victor,” Coombes said. “The law, for instance, cannot compel a blind man to pass a vision test. The law, however, can and does make passing such a test a requirement for operating a contragravity vehicle. Blind men cannot legally pilot aircars. So if we can’t secure the consent of a nonexistent Fuzzy tribal council, we can’t mine sunstones at Yellowsand, lease or no lease.”
“Then, we’ll get out all we can while the lease is still good.” He’d stripped Big Blackwater of men and equipment already; he was thinking of what other Peters could be robbed to pay Yellowsand Paul. “We have a month till the trial.”
“I’m just as interested in that as you are, Victor,” Gus Brannhard said, “But that’s not the only thing. There’s the Adoption Bureau: If the Fuzzies aren’t minor children, somebody might make enslavement — peonage at least — out of those adoptions. And the health and education programs. And the hokfusine — sooner or later some damned do-gooder’ll squawk about compulsory medication. And here’s another angle: under Colonial Law, nobody is chargeable with any degree of homicide in any case of a person killed while committing a felony. As minor children of under twelve, Fuzzies are legally incapable of committing felony. But if they’re legally adults…
Jack literally howled. “Then, anybody could shoot a Fuzzy, anytime, if he caught him breaking into something, or…”
“Well, say we drop the faginy charges,” Fitz Mortlake suggested. “We still have the other barrel loaded. They can be shot just as dead for enslavement as for enslavement and faginy.”
“Is the other barrel loaded, though?” Gus asked. “I can put that gang on the stand — thank all the gods and the man who invented the veridicator, there’s no law against self-incrimination — I can’t force them to talk. You can’t do things in open court like you can in the back room at a police station. I may be able to get a conviction without the Fuzzies’ testimony, but I can’t guarantee it. Tell him about it, Dr. Mallin.”
“Well.” Ernst Mallin cleared his throat. “Well,” he said again. “You all understand the principles of the polyencephalographic veridicator. All mental activity is accompanied by electromagnetic activity, in detectable wave patterns. The veridicator is so adjusted as to respond only to the wave patterns accompanying the suppression of a true statement and the substitution of a false statement, by causing the blue light in the globe to turn red. I have used the veridicator in connection with psychological experiments with quite a few Fuzzies. I have never had one change the blue light to red.”
He didn’t go into the legal aspects of that; that wasn’t his subject. It was Gus Brannhard’s:
“And court testimony, no exception, must be given under veridication, with a veridicator tested by having a test-witness make a random series of true and false statements. If Fuzzies can’t be veridicated, then Fuzzies can’t testify — like Leslie’s blind man flying an aircar.”
“Yes, and that’ll play Nifflheim, too,” Ahmed Khadra said. “How do you think we’ll prosecute anybody for mistreating Fuzzies if the Fuzzies can’t testify against him?”
“Or somebody claims Fuzzy adoptions are enslavement,” Ben Rainsford said. “Victor’s Diamond, for instance, or my Flora and Fauna. How could we prove that our Fuzzies are happy with us and wouldn’t want to live anywhere else, if they can’t testify to it?”
“Wait a minute. I’m just a layman,” Grego said, “but I know that every accused person is entitled to testify in his own defense. These Fuzzies are accused persons, thanks to Hugo Ingermann himself.”
Brannhard laughed. “Ingermann’s hoping to hang us on that,” he said. “He expects Leslie, who’s defending them, to put them on the stand in Complaint Court, so that I’ll have to attack their eligibility to testify and stop myself from using their testimony against his clients. Well, we won’t do it that way. Leslie’ll just plead them not guilty but chargeable and waive hearing.”
“But then they’ll all have to stand trial,” Grego objected.
“Sure they will.” The Attorney General’s laugh became a belly-shaking guffaw. “Remember the last time a bunch of Fuzzies got loose in court? We’ll just let them act like Fuzzies, and see what it does to Ingermann’s claim that they’re mature and responsible adults.”
“Dr. Mallin,” Coombes said suddenly. “You say you never saw a Fuzzy red-light a veridicator. Did you ever hear a Fuzzy make a demonstrably false statement under veridication?”
“To my knowledge, I never heard a Fuzzy make a demonstrably false statement under any circumstances, Mr. Coombes.”