A Covenant of Justice (37 page)

Harry shook his head sadly. Lee turned away, so did Captain Campbell, and after a moment, all of the others as well. Glumly, they headed back to the starship to activate the vessel's security defenses. Only Three-Dollar remained behind. He smiled gently at the Arbiter. “I think I know where I remember you from,” he said. “And I think you have some explaining to do.”

“No,” said Harry curtly. “I don't.” And he turned away from the others and headed out onto the main platform of the Forum.

Sawyer felt despondent—to come this far, only to have their success snatched away by a set of unfair rules, it didn't make sense. He didn't feel good about anyone or anything. Even Finn's spirits had apparently begun to wilt. He looked unhappy and retired to the cabin that he shared with Sawyer.

Around them, the argument raged like a firestorm; they sat unmoved at the heart of it, too exhausted to fight anymore.

Captain Campbell couldn't believe Harry's betrayal and after several hours of fruitless arguing, she gave up in disgust. “I thought we could trust you.”

“You can trust me to uphold the law,” Harry said calmly. “Or my word as an arbiter will have no value at all.”

Campbell ignored that. “And meanwhile, you plan on giving away the tracker's life? What'll you give d'Vashti next? My starship?”

Three-Dollar understood Harry's reasoning, but when he tried to explain it, no one wanted to listen. For the first time, he and Lee engaged in a full-out shouting match. Nyota and her father exchanged angry words, with Azra in tears between them. Gito didn't say anything; he just methodically broke out every weapon in the starship, inspected each one, tested it to see that it still functioned up to spec—not the manufacturer's specs, but the specs of his special modifications—and then returned them carefully to stores. Arl-N and Robin assisted him. Ota withdrew unto itself and stopped speaking. Ibaka curled up into a ball and whimpered while Kask went stomping up and down the docking spoke, looking for something to kill. Shariba-Jen moved politely through the starship performing routine maintenance tasks, and carefully steering potential combatants away from each other.

Finally, Harry—and both of the TimeBinders—left
The Lady MacBeth
altogether, moving instead into guest pavilions on the Forum disk. Azra went with Nyota; M'bele did not. He stormed up and down the corridors of the starship, fuming with undirected frustration and anger. He didn't know who to hate anymore.

By the time of the hearing, the ship resembled an armed camp, with half the travelers not speaking to the other half; allegiances shifted as easily as opinions; but when they finally all filed out again to head toward one of the lesser amphitheaters, they had achieved—if nothing else—the appearance of cooperation lent by mutual silence.

This time, they made their way to the Forum without incident. The walkways on the disk took them easily to their destination, a small bowl-shaped theater, already half-filled with curious onlookers and representatives of other worlds.

Sawyer looked around as they entered, and shuddered. He noticed too many Vampires, too many Dragons, not enough humans to suit his tastes. But . . . he also saw members of species he'd never seen before at all, only heard about. Two huge women—they looked like relatives of Murdock—sat on the top level of the bowl. Nearby, sat several human-like creatures who had a second set of arms instead of legs; free-fallers probably—or humanoid monkeys, Sawyer wasn't sure. Below them, three tall spindly men waited calmly; they looked even taller than Arl-N. Sawyer hadn't realized humans could grow so long. On the other side of the bowl, he saw several shaven-headed individuals in featureless robes; he couldn't identify them as either male, female, or neuters; he assumed the latter. Most of the humans wore clothing from their own worlds, a dizzying variety of kilts, skirts, pantaloons, vests, robes, caps, hoods, and ornamentation. Most of them displayed a variety of skin colors far beyond those which Sawyer had assumed possible; he saw red skins, white, yellow, blue, brown, green, deep purple, ebony, albino, pink, and even milk-chocolate like his own and Finn's.

Sawyer saw several Knaxx sitting patiently in the bowl; it didn't surprise him. Informants went everywhere—anyplace where something interesting might occur, the Knaxx would have members in attendance. It did surprise him though to see so many robots scattered throughout the crowd—and so many bioforms and androids too. Why should they have any interest in this hearing, or even in the Gathering, for that matter? The Gathering only concerned natural life forms, like humans—and maybe tailored reconstructs as well—but certainly not artificial or constructed beings. They had no claims to representation here. Or did they? He scratched his head curiously. Perhaps he didn't understand all of this as well as he thought he did. Maybe he didn't understand it at all.

But . . . he did understand one thing. Zillabar owed Finn his life. Period. He would not accept less than that. He patted his weapon thoughtfully as he took his seat. Finn took a seat wearily beside him. Finn Markham looked terrible. His recovery seemed halted, and he had begun to look deathly again, as if suffering a relapse of the blood-burn. Streaks of gray had appeared at his temples and his skin had taken on an ashen color.

The rest of the travelers from
The Lady MacBeth
arrayed themselves around the trackers in a phalanx of moral support. At one point, Captain Campbell even reached down and patted Sawyer gently on the shoulder. He reached up and patted her hand in gratitude—then realized what Neena Linn-Campbell had done and turned around to smile at her, but her gaze had already shifted elsewhere across the bowl of the amphitheater.

d'Vashti and his aides—all clad in dull black armor and capes—entered the bowl, looking arrogant and already triumphant. They ignored the humans and took their assigned seats 120 degrees away. A moment later, three Senior Arbiters in shimmering white robes had entered the bowl. As Sawyer and the others watched, the two women and one man crossed to their positions, equidistant from both parties in the case. Sawyer looked around and spotted Harry at the top rear of the bowl; observer or participant, he couldn't tell.

“This dispute,” began the most-senior of the Senior Arbiters, “has attracted a great deal of attention here at the Gathering, so much so, that we have chosen to resolve it before proceeding to the much larger business at hand. Indeed, the resolution of this matter may well have serious import for everything else we will consider later. In any case, we will now hear arguments in the matter of Kernel Sleestak d'Vashti and the Lady Zillabar versus the brothers Markham, Sawyer and Finn.”

Kernel d'Vashti stood up then, bowing with extravagant politeness. He presented an imposing figure, surrounded by his Dragons and Vampire aides. “Your honors, I apologize for speaking out of turn, but we cannot begin. Not until the Lady Zillabar joins us. Those
people
—” He spat the words with contempt. “Those people still hold her in involuntary servitude. I demand—” He caught himself, stopped, bowed again—this time only slightly—and rephrased his speech. “I
request
that this court see fit to compel these lawbreakers to produce Lady Zillabar immediately so that she may participate in this proceeding, which certainly affects her, and that we may see that her captors have not abused her and that she still enjoys good health.” d'Vashti concluded with another bow, this one quite florid, and waited expectantly.

“If it please the court—” Harry's voice came from the back of the amphitheater. Everyone swiveled in their seats to look at him. Harry came striding down to the open circle at the center of the amphitheater, “As the Arbiter who judged the ruling contested here, may I ask question of some pertinence of Kernel d'Vashti? I believe it will help clarify matters.” Without waiting for the Senior Arbiters to confer, Harry turned to d'Vashti. “Do you accept the authority of these arbiters, this body of law, and this proceeding?”

d'Vashti hesitated. After a moment, he said suspiciously, “Of course, I do. Why do you even raise the issue?”

Harry nodded, satisfied. “With the court's permission, I'll explain. If you don't accept the authority of this body to rule on this matter, then we cannot act in good faith here. Additionally, the brothers Markham would have the right to request a dismissal of the case, and according to precedent, the Senior Arbiters would have no option but to grant it. I raise the issue because you have previously indicated your unwillingness to accept the authority of this Gathering. Do you now state for the record that you accept the authority of this Gathering and all that proceeds from it?”

d'Vashti shook his head. “You just changed the question. I don't accept this Gathering as legal, but I do accept the authority of this hearing—”

“No,” said Harry. “You can't have it both ways. These Arbiters derive their authority directly from this Gathering. If you do not accept the Gathering, then you don't accept their authority, and neither can you ask for an arbitration. Would you clarify your stand please so that we may proceed appropriately?” Harry allowed himself the slightest of smiles. He turned and looked directly at Sawyer and Finn and the others, as if to ask, “Do you understand now?”

d'Vashti nodded. He looked as if he'd just bit into something unpleasant. He looked as if he wanted to turn away from the entire proceeding. He looked dangerous. “You son of a bitch,” he said softly. “You clever son of a bitch.”

“Thank you,” said Harry. “I appreciate the acknowledgment—all the more so because it comes from you, your excellency. Now then, do you accept the authority of this court, and of the Gathering it represents?”

d'Vashti nodded slowly. “I do,” he said.

“Thank you,” said Harry. He turned to the Senior Arbiters. “Thank you for allowing me to help clarify this issue. As you know, I have placed myself at the service of this court, and of this Gathering, specifically to help expedite matters such as this. I do appreciate the court's forbearance here.”

He bowed and returned to his seat.

It didn't take long for the Senior Arbiters to make their ruling. And shortly after that, Star-Captain Neena Linn-Campbell arranged for Shariba-Jen, Gito, and Arl-N to escort the Lady Zillabar—in shackles—to the site of the hearing.

Zillabar looked weak, but her spirit appeared undimmed. Despite the bindings, she strode into the amphitheater as haughty and as arrogant and as nasty as she could manage.

d'Vashti stood waiting to greet her but she swept coldly past him, deliberately snubbing him. She walked to the open circle at the center of the amphitheater and looked up at the Senior Arbiters. “Your honors,” she said. “I request relief. The Captain of the starship,
Lady MacBeth
, and her crew, and her associated passengers—in specific, Sawyer and Finn Markham, Lee-1169, Dr. M'bele, and the two TimeBinders, William Three-Dollar and Nyota M'bele, and others—have kidnapped me and held me against my will. I request relief.”

“May it please the court—” Harry Mertz came trundling down to the center of the amphitheater again. “A judgment exists against the Lady, compelling her to fulfill her part of a contract made with Sawyer and Finn Markham. The restriction of her movements became necessary in order to satisfy the terms of the judgment. Previous to my ruling, the Lady Zillabar had demonstrated bad faith on this contract; Sawyer and Finn Markham requested relief, the Lady accepted the results of that and one subsequent arbitration.”

“I had no choice,” she said.

“Shall we retell the whole history of this affair then?” Harry asked. “Including the events that transpired aboard your starship, as well as at your private nesting camp?”

d'Vashti stepped quickly forward then. “That history has no relevance here.”

“Perhaps it does,” said Harry. “We should let the Senior Arbiters decide.”

d'Vashti replied, “The Lady Zillabar represents one of the most important families in the Regency—”

“All the more reason why we should not allow any hint of dishonor to stain her name,” agreed Harry. “Let's bring the full story out into the light so that Phaestor everywhere may know how the Lady sets the standard of behavior for the entire Regency.”

Zillabar looked to Harry, her eyes filled with hatred. “I have no need of your defense, you sniveling old fool. I will keep my private affairs to myself. I have that right. I stand here now with only one request of the Senior Arbiters. Please release me from the custody of the Captain of
The Lady MacBeth
.”

“Point taken,” said Harry, stepping back out of the way.

d'Vashti spoke up then. “Your honors. I would like to state for the record, that my species, the Phaestor, does not produce many fertile females. One female will lay many eggs in her lifetime and will produce a significant number of offspring for the next generation. The Lady Zillabar serves not only as the ruler of her own family, she also represents the future of the Phaestor aristocracy. I believe that the deliberate imprisonment of this woman constitutes an act of racial war. Under the Charter of the Regency—a document we all hold sacred, and which remains in effect, despite the alleged purposes of this Gathering, and indeed even until this Gathering ratifies any new form of government—under the sacred Charter, which must remain inviolate, preserving the rights of species survival remains the single most important commandment, one which takes precedence over all other claims of any kind. Therefore, you have no other option but to reject the claims of these terrorists and criminals.” d'Vashti concluded with a triumphant flourish.

Sawyer and Finn exchanged worried glances. Sawyer started to whisper something, but Finn put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

The Senior Arbiter had frowned at d'Vashti's last words. Now, she said, “Please do not use offensive language, Kernel d'Vashti. The court will make its own judgments about the criminality of any individuals here.”