Out of the reeking pool of sin, a ghastly caricature of the figure of blind Justice rose up grinning at them, clattering her teetering scales.
“To hell with that,” Max shouted. “I vote that Robin Bowles represent us!”
Bowles turned, a little shocked. “Are you sure?”
Welles was just as startled. Granted that Bowles was prepped to handle the defense. So were Ollie and Gwen, with prompting from Welles, of course. Welles had expected to have to push a little, argue a little. But the Adventurers seemed to have made their decision, and in Bowles’s favor.
Welles hit the Stall button, and a prerecorded loop played, buying him five seconds to think.
“Whoa!” Hippogryph yelped. Max glanced over, and saw a troop of six sins dragging a roast beef across the courtroom floor, tumbling and fumbling like circus clowns with their load. They were almost to the far side of the room when three sin-sheriffs, complete with badges and riding sea horses, scampered in pursuit.
The entire tableau took about five seconds. Then Kevin remembered himself. “You do want the job, don’t you, Mr. Bowles? I saw you in The Judge Crater Story.”
“You and six other people,” Bowles said ruefully.
“But you can handle it!”
Snow Goose cried, “All in favor!”
A thunderous chorus of ayes filled the air.
“Opposed?”
Not a single nay.
“The ayes have it.”
The black judge looked at them impatiently. “We are here today to try mankind, represented by these sorry assholes, for its sins. In the court we use the Code Napoleon. Your guilt is presumed until you can prove yourselves… ah… what’s that word?”
A skeletal bailiff goose-stepped over to them, its joints and bones constructed of tittering sins standing on one another’s grotesque shoulders. It stage-whispered, “Innocent!”
“Why, yes. That is the word I was looking for.” He harumphed, cleared his throat, and spat out a sin. It landed at Charlene’s feet. It wore a black robber’s mask across its face and a three-digit number across its chest. Chittering, it ran up to her and dug under her trouser cuff. She squeaked and pulled away. The sin hugged a big gold coin to its chest, smiled evilly, and sprinted fol.
Robin Bowles sighed, and then spoke in a voice like rolling thunder. “We are willing to go on trial, but only if we know that we will be tried fairly. If this is a mockery of a trial where you can bend law and logic to fit your own dictates, then we might as well be silent, and keep our dignity while you do with us as you will.”
Orson hissed at Bowles, who bent over, listening and whispering.
The Oriental hadn’t waited. “We will play fair with you. There is no need. Lying is a sin, but sins do not lie.”
Robin Bowles straightened his back, and smiled unpleasantly. “You had better not. My colleague has reminded me of something.”
Max’s little brother stood, cracking his knuckles with glee. “All right. The Raven and Sedna are out of operation. But Sedna has a mate. And Eviane is a tornrait-”
Kevin hastily consulted his pocket computer. “Torngarsoak! Lord of the land animals!”
“Thaaat’s the one. Eviane gives us a direct connection to the spirit world. Torngarsoak is out there, listening and watching. If we are guilty, then he will punish mankind for harming his sweetheart. if we’re innocent-” He smiled charmingly. “Then Torngarsoak will be upset with you.”
He turned, bowed sweepingly from the waist to the wild applause of the Gamers. Charlene Dula seemed beside herself with enthusiasm.
“Thank you, colleague Orson.”
“It was nothing, colleague Robin.”
Bowles spoke in his most professorial tones. “All right,” he said. “That having been said, I move for a dismissal of all charges.”
“On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that we, representing the Western world, were ignorant of Eskimo law, and therefore must be held blameless.”
The four judges conferred for a moment, then shook their heads. “No. Your motion is disallowed for two reasons. First, even if we discounted sins which are exclusive to the Eskimo world, there are enough overlapping sins-murder, for instance-to condemn you.”
“And the second?”
“Ignorance of the law is no excuse. This is well known in your Western law.”
Robin nodded his head, and paced back and forth. Suddenly he stopped. “What are the sins of which we stand accused?”
“Murder. Abortion of children in times of plenty. Men who have no hunting skills. Women who disgrace their communities by dressing poorly. Destruction of the family units.”
“I submit to you,” Bowles said, “that these sins have been with mankind since time immemorial, and that the universe was created in balance despite them. There has been no increase in sin-it merely looks that way because of the increase in communications.”
The four man-shapes laughed in a thousand voices. “We have heard that argument before. ‘if you hadn’t caught me, it wouldn’t be a crime.’ And it is disallowed.”
“But you must admit,” Bowles continued, “that more than the human race is on trial here. What must also be weighed is whether you have overstepped the bounds of your power. if you are wrong, and there has been no vast upsurge of sin, then you yourselves have acted to throw the universe out of balance. Torngarsoak’s vengeance would be terrible. The question is… have you sinned?”
Robin asked it in powerfully insinuating tones. The judges recoiled for a moment, then answered: “We cannot sin. We are sin!”
Breathing harshly, Bowles mopped his forehead. Sweating underwater?
“I propose,” Bowles continued, “that we simplify the issues. Choose the one sin of which we are most demonstrably guilty, and let us defend ourselves against that. Choose the one-we can only be hung once as a species, as a culture. If modern man is so wicked, has fallen so far from the path, then choose one.”
Max was thunderstruck. Bowles projected more power, more sheer emotional force than the screen had ever conveyed. To be this close to a master actor at the height of his craft was awe-inspiring.
“Murder,” the white/Europe judge suggested.
“I think not,” Bowles replied. “We punish our murderers. They often repent. The Gods have always granted the right of repentance, and loved a people who police their own. The Gods made man, flaws and all. They have also made it possible for men to repent.”
“Abortion.”
Bowles thought. “Your concept of abortion-”
“-includes yours,” the Eskimo finished.
Trianna Stith-Wood was on her feet. Bowles noticed and deferred to her in body language. She didn’t notice at all; she was already talking.
“In times of hardship, Eskimo babies were sometimes left in the snow, given back to the elements. There are places where a baby doesn’t even get a name until it can name itself! I don’t say that’s a good idea. We don’t like it-we never have. The fact that some people have abortions just because they’re”-she paused for a moment, and her voice went a little tight-”too lazy to get implants is, is bad. We don’t like it any better than you do. But you can’t make abortions illegal-you’d just drive poor women to back-alley clinics, while their rich cousins go to nice clean family doctors. That’s murder too. At least the children who are born are really wanted. Don’t condemn us because the Gods gave us love, and reproduction, but limited the available food and space.”
When she finished her outburst and sat down, she was crying. Hippogryph seemed embarrassed, but Charlene reached forward and held her shoulder.
Welles paused. What had brought that on?
A few taps of the finger, and Trianna Stith-Wood’s personal file was on the screen. He could only devote a tiny fraction of his attention to it. His quick scan found no reference to abortion, or trauma, or specific incidents which might have triggered it. Not surprising-the dossiers were voluntary, and easy enough to leave discreetly incomplete.