Consequently, their contact up to now had been perfunctory and brief, enough to satisfy the formalities without really establishing a hormonal leader-follower bond.
The two of them suited up and climbed into the lander after the pilot. There was a delay of some twenty minutes before launch, and Gishora took that opportunity to have a talk with his subordinate.
“Tizhos. I have set up a private channel so we may speak frankly. Tell me if you have finished all your preparations.”
“I believe so. I made estimates of how contact could affect the Ilmatarans. My notes may lack precision—I had very little information other than the bulletin from Earth.”
“I understand. You can refine them as we learn more below. Remember that we come here to learn and understand, and to correct what may have gone wrong, not to judge.”
“Some on board seem to think otherwise,” said Tizhos.
Gishora knew who she meant. “I thought it best to bring Irona on the mission so that the Protectionist faction would not feel themselves excluded. But I think even he would agree that he can do little to help in the gathering of facts. So I have a perfectly valid reason to leave him in orbit where he can do no harm.”
“I do admit to curiosity, Gishora: Did you bring him in order to have something to threaten the humans with? If they do not cooperate with you, they will have to face Irona?”
Gishora sounded pained. “Tizhos, we have not come here to make threats or demands! Such behavior resembles what we wish to avoid. We only wish to learn all the facts of what happened and prevent future mistakes.”
“If the humans refuse to accept our help, what then?”
“In that case, you and I must do our work anyway. And, yes, I do take comfort from knowing I can call upon Irona if force seems necessary.”
For a moment, Gishora seemed dominant indeed, and Tizhos felt the warm sexual rush of agreement with a leader.
The pilot called back from the flight station. “Thrusters fire in one dozen seconds.”
“Good,” Gishora replied. “We wait prepared.”
A moment later they heard the hissing sound of the thrusters behind them, and a feeble gravity pushed them into their seats. Then they floated again. “All done,” said the pilot. “We begin braking in three dozen minutes.”
Gishora made the hull next to their seats transparent, and the two of them became absorbed in the view as the vast landscape of Ilmatar pivoted beneath them. The surface below was a smooth plain of white ice, criscrossed by lines and mottled with occasional spots and splotches of dark material. In a few places mountains of rock pierced the ice layer to rise barren and gray, casting long shadows. The moon was virtually airless, with no clouds or haze to block their view.
There! Just at the terminator line, at the intersection of two chasms in the ice, Tizhos saw a tiny flashing light. From this height she could not see the Terran base itself, but the landing strobe showed up clearly. If she peered hard, Tizhos could almost make out a faint smudge around the blinking light, where the humans had disturbed the pristine surface. A stain on the world.
Three
The trial is quick and holds few surprises. A good crowd gathers in the commonhouse, about equal numbers of Broadtail’s friends and Ridgeback’s supporters. Half a dozen landowners with their militia bolt-launchers are standing by to keep order. Judge Longfeeler 62 Deeprift opens the proceedings by asking Broadtail to recount his version of events.
“I remember the two of us arguing about the net vote after the meeting. Ridgeback steps onto my property and I order him off. He refuses to leave, and we fight. He nips off the end of my feeler, I stab him with my pincer, and he dies.”
There are no witnesses to the event besides a few children, but the judge calls Cleft-tail 5 Fisher, who describes the position of Ridgeback’s body. Smallbody 19 Doctor confirms that Ridgeback’s fatal injury is exactly the type produced by a downward pincer stab. Finally the judge asks Broadtail to clarify some points.“Do you remember intending to kill Ridgeback?”
“I recall being very angry and striking out at him without thinking.”
“Do you remember being aware you and Ridgeback are on common ground?”
“I do not. The fight starts on my property and I remember being too busy fighting to notice where we are. I also remember Ridgeback fighting back and refusing to leave. Is that a mitigating circumstance?”
“The law is very clear. You may not kill another adult on common ground, even if the fight begins on your property. Your personal law stops at your boundary.”
“What about his death being accidental? I do not remember intending to kill him.”
“Unfortunately it is too easy to tell lies about intentions. The common law can only govern actions. Do you regret killing Ridgeback?”
“I regret it very much. I do not recall liking him, but I am not glad he is dead.”
The judge asks if anyone has any information to add. Nobody speaks up. The commonhouse gets very quiet as the judge pronounces the sentence.
“The law is clear: killing another adult on common ground is murder. No one disputes Ridgeback’s adulthood, and Broadtail admits killing Ridgeback on the public road. The penalty for murder is equally clear: expropriation and outlawry. The Sandyslope property now belongs to Ridgeback’s second-oldest apprentice, and Broadtail is proclaimed an outlaw within the bounds of this community. Does anyone offer him sanctuary?”
A landowner is the ultimate authority on his own property. If another landowner at Continuous Abundance chooses to take Broadtail as a tenant, he is safe—on his protector’s land, that is.
Nobody speaks up. Former landowners are notoriously bad tenants, and many who remember Ridgeback fondly might make things difficult for Broadtail’s protector. Broadtail is actually a little relieved. He hates the thought of being trapped on someone else’s property, lower than any apprentice or newcaught child.
The judge continues. “Because of the circumstances of the crime, I ask if anyone will safeguard him to the edge of town.”
Thicklegs 34 Sandybottom and Longhead 10 Bareslope volunteer. Neither of them belong to Ridgeback’s faction, and they’re both pretty big and have their weapons. If some tenants or apprentices want to try mobbing the outlaw just for fun, Thicklegs and Longhead can give them a fight.
Expropriation means Broadtail 38 (no more Sandyslope, and for the moment he has no profession-name) can’t even set foot on his old property again. Young Smoothpincer 14 owns it all now, even Broadtail’s beads and debts. The apprentices go with the property just like the livestock.
The hardest thing for Broadtail to leave behind is his library. He has several dozen books, including a few he has made himself. Smoothpincer can sell them, or use them to tie up bundles, or whatever he likes. He has a reputation as a hard worker, not a reader.
With Thicklegs and Longhead flanking him, Broadtail sets out down the road leading to the edge of town. They are joined by some of his friends—Roughshell 74 Westcave, Spineback 22 Coldvent, and Bigfeet 15 Ropemaker—and followed by some of Ridgeback’s old cronies. There are some pings and a few shouts of “Murderer! Split his shell!” but nobody does anything. Broadtail is still trying to get his mind used to the idea of exile. As they pass Sandyslope he suddenly feels afraid and lonely despite the crowd. The urge to hold his property against all comers is very strong. He makes himself keep walking, one step at a time. He keeps his pincers clamped shut and folded against his body.