“Oh, stars,” said Kizzy. She ran over and hugged him around the waist. “I thought you were getting locked up, too.”
“I’m okay,” he said.
“You’ve been gone six hours.”
“Feels like longer.” He slumped into his chair. Dr. Chef placed a mug of mek in front of him. Ashby cupped his palms around it, letting the warmth bleed into his hands. He stared at nothing for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked to his crew. “Did any of you know?”
A general shaking of heads. “Not a clue,” Jenks said, lighting his redreed pipe. The ash piles on the plate in front of him indicated that he’d gone through two bowls already.
“We’ve been debating whether or not Corbin knew,” Sissix said.
“And?” Ashby said.
“We don’t think so,” Jenks said. Smoke leaked out from between his teeth. “Did you see his face when they dragged him away? He had no fucking idea what was going on.”
“I checked an old blood test,” Dr. Chef said. “There’s no question. There are some irregularities in his DNA that can’t happen any other way.”
“Why didn’t you notice it before?” Ashby asked.
“Because it’s the sort of thing you only find if you’re specifically looking for it. I didn’t have any reason to.”
Ashby sighed and leaned back. “This doesn’t change anything. I hope you all know that. Corbin’s a sapient individual, and I don’t particularly care where he came from. I know we all have our… difficulties with him.” He glanced at Sissix, who was picking at a spring cake with a single claw. “But he’s part of our crew, and we have to help him.” He looked around the table. Something was off. “Wait, where’s Rosemary? Did she not come back?” Had the Quelin figured out about her, too? Stars, how many crew members was he going to lose today?
“No, she’s in her office,” Sissix said. “She’s been combing through legal options for Corbin since the moment they let her go.”
Asbhy reminded himself to give Rosemary a raise once the tunnel was built. “I’ll go help her,” he said, pushing his chair back.
“No need.” Rosemary walked in through the kitchen, scrib in hand and pixel pen behind her ear. “But we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Rosemary took her place at the table. “Corbin’s being held at a nearby enforcement orbiter. They’ll be keeping him there indefinitely, before his case is processed.”
“What happens then?”
“If we do nothing, he’ll be sent to a Quelin penal colony. They’re labor camps, mostly, from what I’ve learned. Apparently most of the teracite ore in the GC is mined by Quelin prisoners.”
“Now there’s a happy thought,” Jenks said. “Nice to know what my circuit panels are made from.”
“How can they do that?” Dr. Chef said. “Corbin’s a GC citizen.”
“No, he’s not,” Rosemary said. “Since cloning is illegal in most GC territories, cloned individuals don’t get natural born rights. They have to go through the same application process that non-GC species do, even if they’ve lived in the GC all their lives.”
“That’s not fair,” Kizzy said.
“Yeah,” Jenks said. “But think of how rarely something like this happens. Lawmakers aren’t going to trouble themselves making new legal systems for something that affects maybe—what? A few hundred people, if that? You can’t find cloners anywhere but the fringe, and I highly doubt anybody who’s a part of it comes back to the GC. This probably isn’t something the GC has to deal with often.”
“Exactly,” Rosemary said. “And because of that, the unofficial policy when dealing with a discovered clone is to default to whatever the local laws are. If we’d found out about Corbin in, say, Harmagian space, he’d still have to go through the application process, but the only other thing that would happen to him is a footnote on his ID file. The only person who’d be arrested is his father. Which is probably happening as we speak.”
“Anybody know anything about his dad?” Kizzy said.
“He’s still on the Enceladus orbiter, I think. They’re not on speaking terms,” Ashby said. He turned to Rosemary. “So, let me get this straight. Since Corbin’s not a citizen, we can’t use any of our treaty rights to get him back?”
“Right. But there is a loophole. It’s just not…” She cleared her throat. “It’s not exactly ideal.”
“I figured as much.”
Rosemary fidgeted with her pen. “The terms of the Quelin’s GC membership agreement state that they have to honor any legally binding documents that affect GC citizens traveling through their space. This is meant for cases like… say, you have a Human and a Harmagian who have a registered partnership in Harmagian space.”
“Eew,” said Kizzy.
“Speciest,” said Jenks.
“I’m not speciest, they’re slimy.”
“It’s just an example,” said Rosemary. “Now, they wouldn’t be able to register their partnership with the Quelin, because interspecies partnerships aren’t recognized there. But since they’re already registered in another GC territory, the Quelin have to honor their partnership, legally speaking.”
“How so?” Ashby asked.
“Like if their ship crashed and one of them died, the Quelin authorities would have to recognize the other as their next of kin, even though they wouldn’t grant those rights to people living within their space.”
“Got it. But how does this help Corbin?”
“Well, when you start an application for GC citizenship, you have to have an assigned legal guardian throughout the process. A GC citizen who vouches for you.”
“Yes, I had to do that,” Dr. Chef said.
“How’s it work?” Jenks asked.
“It’s a formality more than anything. The idea is that you have someone there to help you fit in. They make sure you learn the language, learn the laws, understand the local culture and ethics, that sort of thing. They’re also responsible for helping you get your formwork in on time, and they have to come with you to your application hearing. It’s a sort of buddy system to help you integrate.”
“Seems stupid for Corbin,” Kizzy said. “It’s not like he has to learn Klip all over again.”
“So,” Ashby said, “if Corbin has a legal guardian, the Quelin have to release him to that person?”
“Yes, but we only have a narrow window to make it happen. We’d have to fill out the formwork, get the GC to approve it, and get it to the Quelin before they process Corbin’s case. I have a… friend I can contact. A minor GC official. I’m sure once they see it’s an emergency, they’ll sign off the formwork as fast as they can.”
“The same friend that, ah…?” Jenks said. He finished his question by pointing at Rosemary’s wristwrap.
Rosemary’s eyes swung down. “Yes,” she said.
“How long before the Quelin process Corbin?” Dr. Chef asked.
“No one knows. Could be days, or tendays. They could be doing it now for all we know, but I doubt it. From what I understand of the Quelin legal system, they don’t rush these things.”
“All right,” Ashby said. “Just show me where you need my thumbprint.”
“No, see, you can’t be his guardian.” Rosemary took a breath. She looked uncomfortable. “There’s a catch. And it’s a stupid, bureaucratic catch, but it’s one we can’t get around.”
“Let’s have it.”
“Quelin cloning laws aren’t just strict, they’re… I don’t even know what the word is. Unyielding. My understanding on this is sketchy at best, but apparently, the Quelin had a bloody interplanetary war a few centuries back, and it was mixed up with cloning and eugenics and all sorts of messy things. Nowadays, the Quelin don’t just see cloning as an ethically murky practice. They see it as evil. To them, Corbin’s very existence is dangerous. As such, their laws on cloning are a lot more comprehensive than what other species have on the books. It’s clear they thought about the possibility of clones entering in from outside their space.”