“I must protest,” said Kelkad. “Internal organs are not to be displayed for nonmedical reasons.”
“I understand,” said Dale. His voice seemed to go off the microphone. “Perhaps the other Tosoks would like to leave the courtroom?”
There was some muffled commotion as they did so.
“There are no other Tosoks viewing this now,” said Dale. “Will you please continue?”
“If I must,” said Kelkad. Just above the bottommost edge of the hexagonal door were four circular indentations. He slipped the four fingers of his front hand into these. Frank zoomed the camera in to show the action. Kelkad’s knuckles flexed, and there was a clicking sound. The alien pulled the hatchway toward him, and a transparent hexagonal module, like a giant quartz crystal, pulled out of the wall. He brought it out about eighty centimeters, making the exposed part equal in length and width. Cold air drifted toward Frank, propelled by the gentle currents of the mothership’s air-circulation system. Through the viewfinder of his camera, he could see the image briefly fog then clear.
“Dr. Nobilio,” said Dale’s voice, “can you get us a good shot inside the chamber?”
Frank flailed about trying to comply. Kelkad reached out, offering his back hand to Frank. Frank took it, and managed to haul himself into position.
“How’s that?”
“Fine,” said Dale. “Now, Kelkad, can you identify the object we’re seeing?”
The chamber contained a pink mass about the size of a clenched fist, apparently wrapped with a clear film of plastic and packed around with ice chips. “Certainly. It is a Tosok heart.”
“Which one?”
Kelkad peered closer, then moved his front arm vaguely in the air, as if working it out for himself. “The right-front heart, I believe.”
“Very good,” said Dale. “Is that the only thing in the chamber?”
Kelkad gripped the four holes on the front panel and pulled the transparent drawer out farther. A second Tosok heart, packed in ice, was revealed.
“No,” said Kelkad. “Here is another one—the left front, it looks like.” He continued to pull out the drawer. “And a third one—right rear,” he said. He pulled on the drawer again. “And a fourth—the left rear.”
“Are you sure it’s the left rear,” asked Dale. “Or are you just anticipating that?”
Kelkad’s front eyes compressed from the sides—a Tosok squint. “No, it is indeed the left rear.”
“Anything else in there?” asked Dale.
Kelkad yanked on the handle some more. There were two additional compartments in the drawer, but both were empty. “No.”
“So, just to be clear for the jury, there are four hearts there, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And a normal Tosok has four discrete, individual hearts.”
“That is right.”
“And those four hearts are each distinct in shape.”
“The overall shape is pretty much the same, but the positioning of the valves is unique on each one.”
“Thank you. Let’s move on to the next compartment.”
Frank pushed lightly off the wall and repositioned himself, with his hand flat against the cool, glowing ceiling.
“This one is also a refrigerated compartment,” said Kelkad. “And it is also labeled in Hask’s handwriting. It says ‘organs for transplant—lungs.’ ” His finger traced out the words as he pointed to them.
“Please open the compartment.”
Kelkad did so.
“Please pull it out all the way,” said Dale’s voice.
The captain gave a healthy yank. As soon as he let go of the four-holed handle, he began sailing under inertia across the room. Frank jockeyed for position. Inside the drawer were four blue semicircular masses.
“What is inside the compartment?” asked Dale from Earth.
“Four Tosok lungs,” replied Kelkad, having now floated back.
“The normal number found in a Tosok body, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Is there any way to distinguish a right-front lung, say, from a right-rear lung?” asked Dale.
“Not without doing a dissection or tissue scan,” said Kelkad. “Indeed, they are essentially interchangeable—you can successfully transplant a lung from any position into any other position.”
“And these four lungs, they were not in storage either when you left your home world?”
“No. As I said, we had no organs of any kind in storage. These would have been harvested from Seltar at the same time her hearts were taken out.”
“And the next chamber over, what does that contain?”
“The label says it contains gebarda—the cleansing organs that serve the same function as your kidneys and spleen.”
“Please pull that drawer all the way open,” said Dale.
Kelkad did so, this time managing to keep his position near Frank.
“Are there four organs in there?”
Kelkad’s tuft moved forward in assent. “Yes.”
“Thank you,” said Dale. “Now, being mindful of the Court’s time, perhaps rather than searching methodically, we can have you simply go straight to whatever drawer might contain Seltar’s kivart.”
Kelkad closed the hexagonal drawer containing the four gebarda, then scanned the rest of the doors.
“We’re waiting, Kelkad,” said Dale’s voice.
“I am looking for it.”
“I do have the term correct, don’t I?” said Dale. “The kivart is the single organ in the Tosok body responsible for producing free-floating nerve bundles?”
“Yes,” said Kelkad. “But I do not see it here.”
“The kivart can be harvested for transplant, can’t it?”
“Yes.”
“In fact, as an organ that a Tosok has only one of, it’s one of the most important ones to harvest, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Indeed, a Tosok can get by for extended periods with only three lungs, no?”
“In fact,” said Kelkad, “in the elderly, the strain of transplanting a fourth lung outweighs the benefits of having it in most cases.”
“Indeed, you can get by, as long as you don’t exert yourself, for an extended period with just two lungs, correct?”
“That is right.”
“And, again so long as one doesn’t exert oneself, three hearts, or even just two, would be enough to allow life to continue, no?”
“That is right.”
“But the kivart—well, if the kivart goes, severe motor-control problems develop almost at once, isn’t that so?”
“Yes,” said Kelkad.
“Indeed, without his or her one and only kivart, a Tosok would die quickly, no?”
“That is correct.”
“And so,” said Dale, “Hask would doubtless have harvested Seltar’s kivart, which, in many ways, is the most crucial of all the organs to recover, and—”
A muffled sound, then Judge Pringle’s voice: “Mr. Rice, caution your client. I will not tolerate outbursts in my courtroom.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honor. Hask, be quiet—”
Hask’s untranslated voice, plus the near-simultaneous translation, both somewhat murky, as if being picked up by a microphone some distance away: “Do not pursue this line of questioning.”
“I’m sorry, Hask.” Dale’s voice. “It’s my job to defend you.”
“I do not wish this defense.”
“Mr. Rice.” Judge Pringle again. “Mr. Rice.”
“A moment, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Rice, the Court is waiting.”
“Hask.” Dale’s voice. “Hask, I’m going to finish.”
“But—”
Judge Pringle: “Mr. Rice—”
“Kelkad,” said Dale, “it is true that the kivart is a crucial organ, yes?”
“Most definitely.”