“You may read the verdict, Mr. Ortiz.”
The clerk cleared his throat, then: “We, the jury in the above entitled case, find the defendant, Hask, not guilty of the crime of first-degree murder of Cletus Robert Calhoun, in violation of Penal Code section 187, as charged in count one of the information.
“And we further find that the defendant did not use a deadly weapon, to wit an alien cutting device, in the commission of this crime.
“And we further find that in the commission and attempted commission of the above offense the defendant, Hask, did not personally inflict great bodily injury upon Cletus Robert Calhoun, and was not an accomplice to the above offense, within the meaning of Penal Code section 12022.7.”
Frank let out a great cheer and reached over the wooden fence to thump Dale on the back. Michiko Katayama had thrown her arms as far around her boss as they would go and was hugging him. Seltar rushed over to embrace Hask across the wooden barrier between the audience section and the defense table.
For her part, Linda Ziegler was absolutely stunned, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open a bit. Next to her, her second chair, Trina Diamond, just kept blinking.
“This is your verdict, so say you one, so say you all?” asked Judge Pringle, facing the jury.
The jurors nodded. “Yes,” they replied in unison.
“Counsel, do you wish the jurors polled?”
“No, ma’am,” said Dale, grinning from ear to ear.
“The People?” said the judge.
“Ah, no,” said Ziegler, after a moment. “No, Your Honor.”
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, do you wish to address the lawyers?”
The jurors looked at each other. They certainly were under no obligation to do so, but California law permitted them this opportunity. The foreperson turned to Pringle. “Nothing we say now can weaken the power of our verdict?” he asked.
“That’s correct,” said Pringle. “What’s done is done.”
The foreperson nodded. “Then, yes, we would like to say something to the lawyers.”
“Go ahead, Mr. Foreperson.”
The man took a deep breath, then looked at Ziegler. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ziegler. You should have won. You had him dead to rights. I mean, we all agreed that he did do it. He did kill Mr. Calhoun.”
Ziegler’s eyes went even wider. “Jury nullification,” she said.
The foreperson looked at Pringle. “Your Honor, you instructed us in the law. But, well, we couldn’t bring ourselves to apply it.” He looked to Ziegler again. “Hask didn’t mean to kill Calhoun, so it wasn’t premeditated. Still, we could have found him guilty of a lesser charge, like involuntary manslaughter. But if we’d found him guilty, there might have been an appeal—the defense can appeal guilty verdicts, but the prosecution can’t appeal innocent ones, isn’t that right, judge?”
Pringle nodded. “In most cases, that’s essentially correct.”
“So we let him go. We let him go so he wouldn’t be jailed; after all, we all agreed he presented no threat to anyone else.” The foreperson looked at the other jury members, then turned back to the judge. He shrugged a little. “Yes, the rest of the crew are now in prison—but Kelkad did send a message to his home world, and other Tosoks will be coming to Earth at some point. Who knows what changes there have been in Tosok society in two hundred years? We thought that if these new Tosoks saw that we are a reasonable, compassionate, and forgiving people, then maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t wipe our planet clean of life.”
“I don’t understand,” said Frank. He stopped the grinning Dale before the lawyer stepped out of the courtroom into the crowd of waiting reporters. “What is—what did Ziegler call it?—‘jury nullification’? What’s that?”
“The jury is the conscience of the community,” said Dale. “They can do whatever they damn well please.”
“But the judge said they had to follow the law, whether they agreed with it or not.”
Dale shrugged. “Judges always say that—but, in fact, there’s no legislation to that effect, and plenty of precedent to the contrary. The jury never has to explain or justify its decision to anyone, and there’s no mechanism for punishing jurors for making a verdict that goes against the evidence. If they want to let someone go free, they’re entitled to do that.”
“Thank God for juries,” said Frank.
“For once,” said Dale, still grinning from ear to ear, “I agree with you.”
*39*
No one expected to see another Tosok ship anytime soon. After all, the message Kelkad had sent from Earth to Alpha Centauri had to take 4.3 years to get to its destination, and the fastest any reply—whether a ship, or simply another message—could arrive was another 4.3 years later.
Or so people had thought.
But in the intervening two hundred years, the Tosoks had apparently discovered a way to outwit Einstein. The new vessel appeared without warning in orbit near the Tosok mothership just four and a half years after Kelkad had sent his message. Some astronomers declared they had detected a flash of Cerenkov radiation just as the ship appeared, and others were muttering things about hyperspace and tardyon/tachyon translations.
The new arrival was eighty meters long, and there were no right angles anywhere in its construction. Its hull was smooth—no vents, no projections, no apparent windows—and a mural had been painted on it. It was abstract, and no one was quite sure at first what it depicted. Only when it was imaged with cameras that saw well into the ultraviolet did the image become apparent.
The starboard side of the ship depicted a landscape of crystal mountains, what might have been treelike things with trunks made of chains of spheres, and a lake with either a giant floating city or boat in it, or an island every centimeter of which was covered by majestic spires and towers.
The port side showed what was obviously the Milky Way galaxy, as well as Andromeda, and the two Magellanic Clouds.
The alien ship simply orbited Earth for two days, but finally a small translucent sphere bubbled up out of its surface, then separated from it.
The sphere simply dropped to the Earth at a speed of about five hundred kilometers an hour—fast, but not nearly fast enough to make for a fiery passage through the atmosphere. It slowed when it was about three kilometers up, and settled gently as a feather in the United Nations plaza, next to one of the Tosok landers; Hask and Seltar spent much time at the UN these days. Whether the new arrivals were aware of the significance of the UN, or had simply located the Tosok lander with some sort of scanner, no one could say for sure.
UN and U.S. troops were waiting for the spherical craft. Tanks and bazookas were trained on it. It was unlikely that either could destroy the ship, but if more Tosoks came out, Earth would not go down without a fight.
The current U.S. president was in the underground command center in Virginia, built for use in case of nuclear war. Frank Nobilio was with him.
They were in contact with the troops in New York via communications satellite, and were watching the live video feed being provided by CNN.
The alien ship was on the ground for about ten minutes before a door materialized in its side. One second, the curving wall was absolutely smooth; the next, a square hatch had appeared in it. The hatch dropped open, its curving doorway forming a ramp. The picture went wild for a moment as CNN’s camera operator tried to get a close-up of whatever was in the chamber.
It was not a Tosok.
The creature stood about 1.2 meters tall. It had radial symmetry, like a starfish. Six legs dropped down to the ground. Interspersed between them were six arms or tentacles that, incredibly, were lifted up above the creature’s torso, as if in surrender.