"Well then, the warrant is satisfied." Judge Griffith passed the memory bar to her assistant. "Joyce, seal that. It's not to be released anyone." To Doctor Hidalgo, she said, "If it can be demonstrated that the intention of this warrant was to disrupt a lawful business enterprise, not only will I hold you in contempt, I will fine you for the full amount of damages. And you too, Howard. Let it be noted that this Court does not approve of the mischievous abuse of litigation."
"Your Honor," Howard-The-Illegitimate said, "we would like to request that the ... uh, monkey be confiscated as well. In case there are other memory cards—"
"Nope. The monkey doesn't belong to Max Dingillian. It belongs to Robert Dingillian. Sorry, Howard." She raised her hands in mock helplessness.
He sputtered. "But the warrant—!"
"The warrant says nothing about the property of Robert Dingillian. And as he is no longer under the custodial authority of Max Dingillian, we cannot even use that umbrella. Hm, I see you forgot to add an a priori clause that would have allowed me to grant your request. You should be more careful when you draft these things, Howard. You left a loophole big enough to be an escape hatch. Given the wording of this document," she waved it at him, "this Court has no authority to seize the property of any other Dingillian. And I will not act beyond the authority of this document. If I did, the next judge up would have ample grounds to invalidate the warrant anyway. So consider that I'm doing you a favor. If you want the monkey, go get another warrant."
I couldn't help myself, I surreptitiously switched the monkey on—and whispered into its ear. It leapt down from my lap, ran over to Howard-The-Stupid, and gave him a double-chocolate, hot-fudge farkleberry with whipped cream and a cherry on top. Plus a noise like an elephant fart. Then it came scurrying back to me. Howard looked like he was going to explode.
Keeping her face carefully blank, Judge Griffith picked up her gavel and rapped it once. "We're adjourned." She looked at her watch. "And just in time. You have an elevator to catch, Mickey. Get your butt in gear. They're holding the gate for you—"
GOOD-BYES
And then a lot of stuff happened all at once. Dr. Hidalgo waddled up and stood in front of Dad. "You have been very lucky, Senior Dingillian. Very very lucky. I hope for your sake and your children's sake that your luck holds out."
Dad shook his head and laughed. "And you've been very stupid, Dr. Hidalgo. Very very stupid. You never figured it out, did you?"
Dr. Hidalgo raised an eyebrow. "Enlighten me?"
"You and your people—I was never carrying anything. I was a decoy. Do you really think they'd trust that much money to my care? 'en I'm not that stupid. Whoever it was—and even I don't know for sure, you probably know more than me—they wanted you looking in the wrong place. So they hired me. And I guess it worked, while you were busy chasing me up the Line, you weren't hassling whole bunch of other folks."
"That's an assumption on your part."
"Maybe so, maybe not. But I got my job done. Thanks again for your help." Dad offered his hand.
Surprisingly, Dr. Hidalgo took it. He held Dad's hand in both of his. "You may yet need my help, señor. I do not think you know what you are playing with. You keep my card. You call me if your new friends don't work out. Adios. Vaya con dios." And he turned and waddled over to confer with Howard-The-Unhappy.
Dad turned to look at me. And Douglas. We were whispering together. Dad must have seen the look on my face. And on Douglas' too. He said, "What?"
And I said to Douglas, "You tell him."
And Dad said, "Tell me what?"
So Douglas swallowed hard. "You sure, Charles?"
"Yes." I nodded.
Douglas turned to Dad. "We don't want you to come with us."
Dad looked confused. He looked from me to Douglas and back again. So I added, "Judge Griffith said we don't have to take you if we don't want to. Well ... we don't want to."
Dad went pale. "Charles? Douglas? Are you sure—?"
"We have to go, Dad." Douglas hugged him quickly. "Maybe we'll see you on the moon. I hope so."
I went to Dad to hug him too, but I didn't say anything to him. He looked like he'd been stabbed—and was still waiting to fall down. He didn't hug me back, so I let go and followed Douglas over to where Mom was standing. She was holding Bobby, rocking him back and forth on her shoulder.
Joyce, the bailiff, followed at a respectful distance. Mom had picked up Bobby and was holding onto him as hard as she could. She glared over his shoulder at Douglas, and at Joyce too, and she held onto Bobby for the longest time, holding him, stroking his head, whispering into his ear, telling him over and over how much she loved him and how she was going to come and get him, not to worry—but at last, Douglas bent down to take him, and she let him slip out of her arms. Tears were running down her cheeks and I was starting to feel real bad about this whole thing. Doug bent his head to kiss her, but she just turned away.
So Douglas turned away from her and she was standing there by herself, just looking at me—and I didn't know what to say or do. She walked slowly over to where I was standing alone, and when she spoke it was like being dragged naked over nails. She just shook her head and asked, "Why, Charles—why?"
I shook my head helplessly. "I—I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't do it to hurt you."
"Was I really that bad a mother to you?"
"Mom, you're angry all the time—"
"Well, don't I have good reason to be? The way you treat me. The way your father treats me."
"Mom, this isn't about you—"
"Well, then who is it about—? Answer me that!"
"Mom, you don't listen! You don't ever listen—you're not listening now."
"Charles, I have a right to know. You're breaking up our family—"
"No, Mom. It was already broken. You and Dad broke it up a long time ago—"
"Is this really what you want—to hurt me like this?"
I wiped the tears from my cheeks. "Mom, what I want most"—it hurt to say it; my voice cracked—"what I want most is ... to get away From you, right now. I can't stand it when you talk to me like this. It isn't my fault!"
"Go ahead, then! You're just like your father, you little bastard! I hope you're happy!" And then—she slapped my face! For an instant, I saw stars.
I didn't know what to do or say. I was too shocked. She hadn't ever hit me before. I couldn't believe it—everybody was staring at me—so I just turned to go—and then she was grabbing at me, crying, "Oh, God, Charles—I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that! Charles, please—wait! Wait! Charles!"
There was one thing she could have said that might have made tie stop, and I was listening as hard as I could to hear her say it, and maybe she was saying it in her own way, but I was listening for the words, and she never said them. She never said the words. So I kept going.
And then Doug put an arm around my shoulders and I started sobbing as we followed Mickey to the hatch of the transfer pod. I looked back to see Dr. Hidalgo and that Sykes woman rushing to Mom's side, and then Doug steered me into the waiting pod and then the door closed and they were gone—
"So what happens now?" I asked, still wiping tears from my eyes.
"I have an idea," Doug answered, shouldering Bobby with one arm, and hugging me with the other. "Let's go to the moon."