Life in the cell was no more pleasant than it ever had been but Calhoun had no other choice. Theoretically, he did not have to stay. He could wander the planet at will, but only here would the aliens guarantee his safety and provide the necessities of life. Without knowledge of the language or customs, without friends, without any useful skills, he was ill-equipped to roam a world that used no money, especially when he was also a lawful prey animal for the dead alien’s relatives.
The wait was tedious, and lasted nearly a week by Calhoun’s reckoning. But when it was over he believed it had been worth every second. The alien spokesman arrived in his cell one morning just as he awoke, accompanied by a delegation he was confident represented the local criminal justice mechanism.
“They bring a proposition,” the alien told him. “I will translate.”
Calhoun nodded his assent, then added, “Let’s hear it.”
There was a long discourse in the Alien language, then the spokesman turned and said, “They will agree in principle that you should be tried under the law you know, since your intent derived from your experience with that law.”
“Then, you’ll take me back?”
“No. We will not do that. We know much about that region. Even your locals call it ‘Occupied Texas’ because of the corruption the drug trade generates. These people are your allies. You would simply buy your way out of this. You are effectively immune from your own law.”
Calhoun was afraid to ask the next logical question but the alien anticipated his consternation and answered it anyhow. “We will try you here. We will convene a court as nearly identical to the Earth ideal as possible. Its personnel will learn your language and your law. We will access your statutes and learned treatises. We will reproduce the body of precedent. We will conform in all respects but one to the court you have at home.”
“And what does that mean?” Calhoun asked, in an embarrassingly squeaky voice.
“The presiding judge will be honest.”
Calhoun winced.
“Do you have an objection?”
Actually, Calhoun did. Back in West Texas he had never worried much about such things because the alien was right, everybody in law enforcement was for sale. But he decided it didn’t matter, at least not at the moment. The important thing was to suck the aliens into the goody-goody trap, then crucify them on the cross of their own collective conscience. Calhoun was good at things like that, they were his stock in trade. Even so, though he usually did win his cases by doing precisely what the alien claimed he was confident he could win even with an honest judge because he knew a couple of things the aliens didn’t.
So, just before his silence threatened to provoke the alien into prompting him, Calhoun answered, “I guess not.”
“Is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?”
“No!”
“What?”
“Negative,” Calhoun screamed.
The rest of the session went swiftly, and when it was over Calhoun felt satisfied that after a few more weeks he’d be in complete control. He began to plan beyond his trial. When it was over, and he was back on Earth, when he was the only human on the planet who knew about the aliens, he would use his knowledge and experience to move into the big time. It was even possible, he believed, that something on Earth would have addictive effects on this life form. What a coup that would be, if he could turn his current prison into a whole world of junkies!
He waited patiently and with a comfortable anticipation.
“I agree, Your Honor, it’s a technicality, but if you check the statute you’ll find it really is the law of Texas. Look at Texas Penal Code Section 19.02.”
“I see it. So?”
“To be murder, the accused must cause the death of an ‘individual.’ ”
“Go on.”
“Next, check P.C., Section 107(a) (17). ‘Individual means a human being who has been born and is alive.’ You will agree, it does say that, and that this is the law of Texas?”
“That is what it says, Mr. Calhoun. What is your point?”
“Well—judge, isn’t it obvious? I mean, look at you people. You’re not human beings and neither was the deceased. You have no choice, you have to grant my motion to dismiss the charge.”
Calhoun smirked. He watched the alien judge, struggling with the point, squirming and uncomfortable to begin with in the unaccustomed confines of the human-style robe. “I’ve got ’em!” He subvocalized.
But the judge wasn’t quite ready to rule. He turned to the alien DA. “Do you wish to respond, Mr. Prosecutor?”
“Yes, Your Honor. And I must admit I am quite resentful of my opponent’s assertion that I am not a human being.
I am as much entitled to claim that status as he is.”
Immediately, Calhoun was on his feet, objecting. “Counsel misstates the law, Your Honor. Human being is a human term, applied exclusively to my race. As any fool can plainly see the prosecutor and I are entirely different organisms and completely unrelated. If he says different let him cite some authority.” Calhoun sat down, confident the prosecutor couldn’t top that one.
“I have already researched the law on the point, Your Honor. As my opponent well knows there is no statutory definition of the term. We must therefore, revert to the Texas Government code, specifically, section 311.011, to which P.C. Section 1.05 refers us. Section 311.011 says, ‘Words and phrases shall be read in context and construed according to the rules of grammar and common usage, unless,’ it goes on, ‘they have acquired a technical or particular meaning, by legislative definition or otherwise.’
“I believe my opponent will have to concede the latter is not true, and as to the former I suggest to the court that the term means any sentient being, as opposed to animals who lack reason. In any event, the Earthians to this day have never known any other sentients, so human languages lack another usage for the term. It is, at worst, a case of first impression.”
“Mr. Calhoun?”
“The argument is absurd, Your Honor, he—”
“Cite me some precedent, Mr. Calhoun.”
But Calhoun couldn’t think of anything. Deep down, he knew this argument was lost. The Texas law was still with him on another capital point, though, self-defense, if it came to that, if they made it past Batson. There he had ample precedent. And, he chuckled, Luck would be with him. That was, he noted, quite a pun, Luck v. State, 588 SW2d 371, Tex. Cr. App„ 1979, the leading case on the Texas Law of self-defense. And with Luck on his side, Calhoun believed, he had it greased. So, he made no further argument. When trial time arrived he would fire his next salvo. That would sink them, of that he was absolutely confident. He almost felt sorry for the prosecutor.
“Very well,” the judge said, “the motion is denied. Do either of you have anything further?” When nobody answered the court adjourned.
“Bailiff, bring in the jury panel.”
Calhoun watched as the alien bailiff obediently trotted out of the courtroom. He had to admit the aliens had the routine down pat. They must have worked their pointy little heads to the bone to do it.
The bailiff opened the door again, and the panel began waddling in. Calhoun had been on this world long enough so that they no longer all looked alike to him. He could tell many individuals apart through physical variations. They seemed to differ as widely as humans did.
When the panel was seated in the jury box the judge began his preliminary questioning, in English, and the panel answered in English. Calhoun was astonished. The aliens had worked even harder than he thought. It was too bad it would all be for nothing.