"Now see here, young man, this trial is not finished. The evidence is not all in." Madison smiled. He was playing this by the Earth court system: All charges and sentences there are arranged in the judges' chambers. The trials are just for public show. It's who tells the judge in private what to do or what secret deal is made that decides anything and everything about a case from beginning to end. He was confident he could make this work on Voltar. "This parade of evidence," said Madison, "could be ended in a minute. Gris is admitting his guilt to every charge. The danger is that your reputation is going to suffer because of this Gris matter. Your image has been injured as a judge." "It certainly has!" agreed Turn. "A dreadful affair!" "Well, I don't think you will be able to hand out a sentence stiff enough to satisfy the mobs," said Madison. "I can order him executed!" huffed Turn. •. "Ah, that won't satisfy the mob." "The statutes do not call for torture in cases of bigamy," said Turn. "They only call for execution." "Well, I don't think the mob will buy that," said Madison. "When you add up the number of victims Gris has mangled-and the mob will-there are few deaths painful enough to atone for it. Now, I think you remember that Her Majesty, Queen Teenie____________________ "
"The one who called my attention to his bigamy." "Yes. Now, it so happens that Gris has an unfinished sentence with her. The sentence was 'a lifetime of exquisite torture, done by an expert.' As you no longer have to hold him for Heller, I would suggest that you could remand Gris into the custody of Queen Teenie to finish his earlier sentence. The mob would be happy; you would be off the hook. We could even play the mob tapes of his screaming. Good publicity for everybody all around." Turn looked thoughtfully at Madison. "Well, if Jet-tero is no longer a Royal officer, then Gris is just a common felon. I could give him into the custody of anyone I wished. You really think 'a lifetime of exquisite torture, done by an expert' would mend this thing… what are you calling it? Image?" "It would restore public confidence in you utterly," said Madison. "They'd praise you to the stars." "Hmm," said Lord Turn. "If I find him guilty, it will have to be a severe sentence. Bigamy usually carries heavy penalties." "Oh, you'll find him guilty all right," said Madison, "for he is, you know. He says so himself." "The trial isn't over yet," said Turn. "We must not twist jurisprudence." Madison got up, bowed and withdrew. He was grinning as he fought his way through the corridor throngs to get to the airbus. He called Teenie. She had been waiting on Relax Island. "Your Majesty," said Madison, "you're really in, kid. Sharpen up the pokers and flex up the hot tongs. Gris will be in your hands before you know it." "This better not be baloney," said Teenie. "After all the favors I've done you, if you don't deliver, the biggest pair of pliers is for your God (bleeped) toenails. So you better be sure." "I am sure," said Madison with a confident grin. "I always deliver." "Oh, yeah?" said Teenie and hung up. It didn't dampen Madison's glee a bit. Getting Gris into her hands was just a byproduct. Heller's status as a Royal officer could only be cancelled under the Emperor's seal as a final result of court-martial. Madison couldn't obtain that. But just as he had whittled away Heller's reputation in the court by innuendo, he was going to get his Royal officer status disbelieved in the same way. He was certain now that Lord Turn would add a line in the Gris sentence that said, "In view of the fact that Heller's Royal officer status has been cancelled, I hereby remand…" And Madison would publicize that in such a way that the whole world would accept it as a fact. After all, who had access to the truth? It was the final expert touch of a PR. The Fleet, the Army and now the Domestic Police would all be on Heller's trail. The general warrant would be considered valid. He would be an outlaw indeed! It was preparation for his final action. But that would not come yet. Oh, what headlines were in the making!
The vast courtroom was a bedlam of sound and shifting bodies. From the high windows, the morning sun sliced down through the centuries of dust in muddy shafts. The hawkers hawked their wares, the warders settled fights about seats and sought to prod the audience into some kind of order. Madison made his way to a bench just behind the Gris attorneys. The three had their grizzled heads together and did not notice Madison at all. It piqued him: after all, it was he who had gotten them their jobs. Madison poked a finger into the shoulder of the ex-Lord's executioner. "Would you three please give me your attention?" It was hard for the man to hear above the din and Madison moved closer and repeated his request. Somewhat annoyedly the three put their heads close to his. Madison said, "Wind it up. Plead him guilty and we'll have an end of this. It's all fixed up in the judge's chambers. He'll throw the book at Gris." They made him repeat it a couple of times. Then they looked at each other. They seemed to designate the eldest one to speak. It was the old Domestic Police court judge. "Our job," he said somewhat acidly, "is to defend our client." Abruptly, they turned to each other once more and went on with discussion of a point of law. It was Madison's turn to be annoyed. They were actually treating him with some contempt. Oh well, he finally philosophized, they had to put on some kind of show to earn the fee that the Widow Tayl, Mrs. Gris, was shelling out. People on Voltar, he had noticed, tended to be a bit free-speaking for all their bows and protocols. These attorneys couldn't win: he was worried about nothing. Lord Turn came through a side door and his guard captain fought a path through the crowd for him. The mob, on becoming aware that the judge was there, began to make animal calls and jeer. Warders poked at them and, with difficulty, kept them out of the space before the raised platform. Turn got to the dais; he arranged the microphone in front of the bell, hit the brass an awful whack that half deafened everybody and sat down in the big chair with a scowl. "I am determined," said Lord Turn through the microphone, battering down the bedlam with sheer volume, "to bring this trial to an early close!" A roar swept through the vast hall and isolated shouts of "Kill Gris!" and "Hang the (bleepard)!" echoed. Madison stole a glance at Gris. He was sitting there in his black Death Battalion colonel's uniform and, despite his skateboard-scar scowl, was looking far more nervous than ferocious. He Avas half-hidden by the ring of warders who were there to protect him. "We've been through oceans of evidence," said Turn, "but there is one question I MUST clear up before I hear another word of anything else!" He fixed an angry look at Gris. "You were Jettero Heller's prisoner here. Every day and sometimes twice a day, you have said that all your crimes were done because of Heller. TAKE THAT STAND!" "Your Lordship," said the eldest Gris attorney, "please address your question to us." "NO!" roared Turn. "Enough is enough. Before I go on another step I will have the answer directly from the accused. WARDERS! PUT HIM ON THAT STAND!" They got Gris into the witness box. He looked very ill at ease, squirming until his manacles rattled. The judge let the crowd's roar of hate subside a bit, then, pointing a finger at Gris, said, "What EXACTLY did Jettero Heller have to do with this? Why do YOU keep asserting it was 'all because of Heller? WHAT DID HELLER DO?" Gris flopped around. Then he looked with agony at his attorneys. He was surprised to see them all nodding at him vigorously to answer. Heartened, Gris said, "Jettero Heller was ordered to do a survey of the unconquered planet known on our charts as Blito-P3 and locally called Earth" "Well?" said Turn, prompting. "Well? WELL?" "And then the Grand Council ordered him to repair the planet's atmosphere and rotation so it would last until time came to invade it a hundred and some years from now as per the Invasion Timetable: if he repaired it, Voltar would not have to launch an all-out, immediate invasion." Gris subsided unhappily. "Well, did he do that?" said Turn. Gris looked at his attorneys and again, to his amazement, saw them nodding. "Yes," said Gris to Turn. "Well, what eke did he do?" Gris shuddered. His attorneys were still nodding to him to answer. "Really, nothing else," said Gris. Lord Turn's lips bared in a snarl. "Then you mean to say that Jettero Heller simply did a survey and was ordered by the Emperor and Grand Council to repair the planet and did so and didn't do anything else?" "Yes," said Gris. "And I did everything I did because I was trying to stop him. So you see, Jettero Heller caused all my crimes!" The crowd let out a savage roar. The warders fought to keep them out of the front of the hall. Lord Turn looked like he himself was going to explode. "At last we have it!" he finally roared. "You blasted criminal! Jettero Heller was just doing what he was ordered to do. THAT doesn't make him a villain! He did nothing but do his duty! You can't find a man guilty for that! YOU have been impugning his character! You have been engaging in vicious inference!" In a rage, he shouted, "THAT ENDS THIS TRIAL! I_
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The Gris attorneys were on their feet like a pack. "Your Lordship!" shouted the eldest one, "We have not completed our defense!" "Nonsense!" howled Lord Turn. "You have been at it for weeks!" The ex-Lord's executioner was waving madly toward a side door to get some laborers to come in. The eldest Gris attorney cried, "Your Lordship! We have MUCH more evidence! We have only presented material collected by others AGAINST our client. We have NOT presented the evidence collected by our client himself!" The laborers were rushing in carts absolutely groaning under their loads of boxes. Lord Turn and the crowd stared in amazement. "This material," the eldest Gris attorney rushed on, "is all authentic. It was found in the office of the accused weeks ago and placed in our hands by a Fleet officer friend of Heller's! It also contains evidence that Fleet officer Bis, himself, has found. These are the very heart of our case. You cannot sentence the client after only hearing evidence collected against him. It would be unjust in the extreme not to hear evidence assembled FOR him." "Does this have anything to do with bigamy?" said Turn. "Oh, yes!" said the eldest Gris attorney. "By the rules of balanced testimony, you are bound by law to hear it!" "Oh, Heavens," said Turn. Then, wearily, "Go ahead." Madison was in a state of alarm. He had never been informed that there was other evidence. Already in shock at finding that his own client, Heller, seemed to be getting absolved, he was suddenly very nervous as to the fate of Gris. All of this was off the script: these confounded attorneys were writing in scenes that Madison had not okayed. And somehow this was evidence that Heller himself had evidently ordered put in the hands of Gris's attorneys. What a weird twist of fate that would be-Heller suddenly, behind the scenes, saving Gris's neck. Madison had the sick sensation that maybe, somehow from the side, Heller was reaching in to interfere with this PR program. It was eerie, like suddenly finding a tiger was behind one's back when you thought he was on the other side of the mountains! Then he relaxed a bit. After all, there wasn't any possible way this new evidence could affect the overall scene. And these attorneys didn't have the remotest prayer of getting Gris off. He stretched out his legs and yawned. Things would go on, just as he had planned. After all, these people were only puppets dancing on the end of his strings. It was he who was the master of Earth PR, not them.