IX: An Examination of the Nature of Truth
“Attention! Attention! All rise as the Tribunal of Justice for the Ognet Region of the Moidi System comes to order. The Incorruptible Magistrate, Judge Budy Rond, presiding. Loback save the people of this System and our Most Benevolent Potentate!”
The bailiff rang the large gong at the front of the courtroom, then bowed as the judge entered the room from his chambers and stood behind his podium. The packed courtroom also stood and, per the custom, everyone turned to face the large portrait of the Potentate of the Moidi System and bowed deeply.
The courtroom was set up similarly to those you would find on Earth. The judge sat at the front of the room on a raised dais. To his right, on a lower platform, was the witness stand. Before him were two tables; one for the prosecution and one for the defense. To the right of the defense table was a large metal cage, in which sat the shifty and eccentric Johnny Go and his beautiful and psychotic sidekick Dixie Doublestacks. Both wore striped prison-style jumpsuits. They had leather belts around their waists, which were connected to heavy chains. The chains were padlocked to a metal ring in the floor. This seemed excessive, given that they were inside a cage, and, knowing their past, that their hands were free.
Across the room against the wall were two rows of seats, with six seats each, for the jury. From here, they could see the whole courtroom, including the gallery, which took up the remaining space behind the two legal counsel tables. A bird-eyed lady with a severe haircut sat between the judge and the jury, taking down a transcript of the proceedings on a complicated and futuristic machine. The bailiff stood next to Dixie and Johnny’s cage.
The jury consisted of a diverse group of aliens, including ten men and two women and ranging in age from late teens to retirees. They were mostly dressed very well, with the exception of Juror Number Ten, who was clearly a mechanic and has come dressed in his work clothes, hoping he would be excused. No such luck. The jurors all had notebooks on their laps, and stared at the judge, waiting for him to begin. Juror Ten scowled at the accused, locked in their cage. The judge took his seat and motioned for everyone else in the room to do the same.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I now call the case of the Beings of the Ognet Region and the GasTron XQ Service Planet versus Johnny Go and Dixie Doublestacks. Are all parties present and ready to begin?” The head lawyer for the prosecution stood again to address the judge.
“The Beings are ready, Your Honor,” the lawyer said. The judge nodded and she sat down again. Next, Dixie and Johnny’s lawyer stood. He was a large man with the pearly pink skin of the people of Outorbia 6. The people of Outorbia 6 were known for being particularly litigious, which is why Chichay Milano and Sweaty Mulligan had chosen him when they received Dixie and Johnny’s jailhouse phone call.
“The Defense is ready, Your Honor.”
“Very well,” said the judge. “Bailiff, please swear and bind the jury.” The bailiff stood and crossed the courtroom. He carried a small machine that looked like a crystal jewelry box. He stood before the jury.
“Will the jury please stand and raise your right hand, arm, or digit?” After the jury stood and raised whatever part of their bodies they could raise, he continued, “Do each of you swear or affirm that you will fairly try the case before this court, and that you will return a true verdict according to the evidence and the instructions of the court, so help you Loback? Please say ‘I do’.” All jurors replied by saying I do in unison, except for Juror Ten, who was the last to say it and sighed heavily before doing so. The bailiff then pressed a button on top of the box, which sent out a laser. The laser scanned the jury, collecting their internal essence and binding them to the court for the duration of the trial. Juror Ten sighed again.
“Be seated.” The judge shuffled some papers around on his desk before looking up at the bailiff again.
“Bailiff, please read the charges.”
“In the matter of the Beings of the Ognet Region and the GasTron XQ Service Plaza versus Johnny Go and Dixie Doublestacks, the Beings allege that on or about midday on December the First, the Defendants, one Johnny Go, aka Itzak Yochanan Rosenwald, aka Pike Mage, aka Rex Vulva, and one Dixie Doublestacks, aka Catherine Margaret Rowan Lane, aka Sinclair Prescott Clarke, aka Mary Jane Kelly did knowingly and with malice aforethought seek to destroy the GasTron XQ Service Planet, causing it to no longer function as a planet.
“The Defendants are also accused of destroying all property located on said planet, including the Service Plaza and all retail establishments therein, the fuel pumps and all fuel stored beneath the planet, and the repair shop, including all tools and vehicles.
“The Defendants are further charged with sixty-seven counts of murder in the second degree, and one hundred twenty counts of attempted murder in the second degree, and one hundred twenty counts of battery.” A gasp went up from the gallery and the judge looked sternly out across the room. Johnny turned to Dixie and whispered, "I can't believe they just burned all of our aliases."
"Actually, he missed three of mine."
In the first row of the gallery, directly behind the prosecution, sat the owners of the now-former GasTron XQ Service Planet. Poor and sad, they hunched over in their seats and looked as if they had been greatly wronged.
“The Defendants have entered Not Guilty pleas, and so we’ll proceed with this trial. The job of the jury is to determine whether or not the Defendants are guilty on any or all of the charges filed against them.” Juror Ten let out another loud, annoyed sigh, which the judge ignored.
“I’ll turn it over to the Beings to present their opening statement.” The judge leaned back in his chair and crossed all four arms across his chest. The lawyer for the prosecution stood from the table and stepped out into the middle of the courtroom floor. She turned first to the judge, then to the jury.
“Your Honor and ladies and gentlemen of the jury. The crimes that the Defendants are charged with amount to a wanton act of destruction, the likes of which is usually caused only by natural disasters. It may seem improbable to you that two beings would be capable of perpetrating a disaster of this magnitude. Or that they lack the motive to do so. And to that, I assure you that over the course of this trial, the Beings will demonstrate that these two Earth humans are the worst kind of callous criminals. The rare kind that commits crimes for the sake of committing them. They hurt, destroy, sow chaos, and even kill, not because it will benefit them, but because they enjoy it.
“Indeed, ladies and gentlemen, the Defendants destroyed an entire planet, killing many, damaging the property and the very livelihood of the owners, for no other reason than for the joy they got out of it. The owners of the GasTron XQ Service Plaza, a hard working family that has poured their lives into their business, are now left with nothing. The families of those who perished in the explosion will never get their loved ones back.
“And for what? For these two sick individuals to get a thrill out of trashing something that wasn’t theirs.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the Beings believe that, after all the evidence has been presented, it will be clear to you that however improbable it seems that two Earth humans could create a disaster of this magnitude, they are guilty. You can - you must - see this truth, and deliver some small justice for the victims. Thank you.” She took her seat. The jury looked skeptical, but nodded their heads.
“Mr. Trowling, your opening statement.” Dixie and Johnny’s lawyer stood and buttoned the jacket of his pristine seersucker suit. He approached the jury.
“Thank you, Your Honor. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I’m ever so pleased that the Beings were able to address you first, since it seems like they’ve laid out our case for us quite nicely. As Ms. Benjerpot so succinctly pointed out to you all, the idea that two Earth humans could destroy a planet - an entire planet! - over the course of a little over a morning, is patently absurd.
“In addition to that, Ms. Benjerpot points out that it doesn’t seem like my clients, the accused, had much in the way of motive to commit this crime. Given that they themselves were rescued by the inter-regional emergency responders, and their own spacecraft was destroyed along with just about everything else on the GasTron XQ Service Planet, what did they stand to benefit from this tragic, tragic incident?
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like you to call to mind the old saying: That the commission of a crime requires means, motive, and opportunity. You’ve all heard that one before, right? Let’s examine that as it pertains to my clients.
“Means. Did the accused have the means to commit this crime? Well, as we go along through this trial, I think you’ll see that they most certainly did not. An explosion of the magnitude of the one that destroyed the GasTron Planet requires an awful lot of fire power. A ten-ton CrableBomb, for example, or a faulty Beeple Diamide cannon. The accused did not have those devices. Or, given that the GasTron was, indeed, a service planet that provided fuel for passing travelers, they could have thrown a lesser explosive into one of the fuel tanks, right? But that would have required that they have access to the tanks; the ability to open them. And, thanks to strict safety guidelines, the ports to the fuel tanks are locked with specific biometric access terminals.
“Let’s look at the motive, now. What do the accused stand to gain from this act? As we’ve already discussed, they’ve lost all of their own personal possessions in the incident. They aren’t the owners of the GasTron, so they certainly won’t be getting any insurance money.” Here he paused and looked meaningfully at the Oonst family, who looked panicked in the front row.
“Finally, opportunity. And here, ladies and gentlemen, is the only thing my clients actually had as relates to this incident. But rather than this being clear cut evidence of their guilt, I think it should be viewed more as an indictment of the way our system treats those who have been entangled in it. For yes, the accused were actually on the GasTron Planet that day. And because they were there, and because they may have, in the past, had a few other run-ins with the law, they were the obvious targets for an overly eager and aggressive prosecution that operates more on a “justice delayed is ok” philosophy, or, even worse, an “if they didn’t do this, they must have done something” attitude.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you are going to hear the Beings tell you some not-too-nice things about my clients. They aren’t perfect; none of us are. But I want you to consider whether having made mistakes in the past should make you the primary scapegoat for any problems in the future. The prosecution is asking you to convict my clients because they haven’t always been good beings. Before you decide, ask yourselves if that is fair and just? Ask yourselves if you would want that standard applied to you. Thank you.”
As Mr. Trowling took his seat, Dixie and Johnny looked over at him and felt confident in their case. A movement at the rear door to the courtroom caught their eye, and they looked up as Chichay Milano and Sweaty Mulligan entered. They glanced around the room, noticed Mr. Trowling, and Dixie and Johnny in the cage next to him, and quickly took the seats in the row immediately behind them. It goes without saying that Dixie and Johnny’s side of the courtroom had very little in the way of supporters.
“Thank you Mr. Trowling,” the judge said, “The Beings may call their first witness.” Ms. Benjerpot stood.
“Thank you, your honor. The Beings call Om Chidwilds.” The door at the back of the courtroom opened and another uniformed bailiff entered, escorting a small blue lady with blue hair. She walked timidly to the front of the room and was seated in the witness box next to the judge. After being sworn in by the bailiff, the judge nodded to Ms. Benjerpot.
“Ms. Chidwilds, thank you for your time today,” she said. “On the morning of December the first, you were on your way from your home on Gosparg 4 to your place of employment in the Shandor zone, is that correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you stopped at the GasTron XQ Service Planet?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you stop there often?”
“Yes, it’s a convenient place for me to stop halfway through my commute. And there’s never usually a wait for a fuel pump.”
“Ms. Chidwilds, tell us about your stop at the GasTron planet on December the first.”
“Well, I was low on fuel and also terribly thirsty, so after I pulled in, before I fueled the ship, I ran into the service plaza and bought myself a soft drink…”
GasTron XQ Service Planet, December the first…
Om Chidwilds dashed across the parking lot of the GasTron XQ Service Planet and into the plaza building. A few minutes later she exited the building and made her way back to her small Cowellezot Galaxy Cruiser, which was parked at a fuel pump. As she passed the outer line of fuel pumps, a commotion caught her eye. She paused to look.
A human man and woman stood near a fuel pump. The woman was holding the hose and aiming it at the man. The man held a large laser rifle. Panicked, Om Chidwilds ducked behind another fuel pump and peered around at the two humans began blasting fuel into the air and chanting angrily.
“I’ll cut your throat!” the man shouted, “The cauldron of fire will rain heavy on the infidels tonight.” Om gasped. She was about to make a break for it and run back to her cruiser when the man continued the chant.
“I’m singeing brains!” he cried, while thrashing around wildly in the puddles of fuel. “Our glorious creator is happy above us in the clouds. The darkness will clear the path for righteousness in your hearts!” The man then aimed his laser rifle up in the air and fired. A beam ricocheted off the roof of the fueling area before finally striking the pump directly next to where Om was hiding. A small hole appeared and smoldered at the edges, but by that time Om was back in her cruiser, getting as far away from the GasTron planet as she could.
Back in the courtroom…
“Ms. Chidwilds, are the two humans that you saw that day here in this courtroom? Could you please point them out to the jury?” Ms. Benjerpot looked at Om Chidwilds expectantly as she slowly, timidly, nodded her head and raised her arm. She pointed to the cage where Dixie and Johnny sat. Johnny smiled and waved, Dixie elbowed him and Mr. Trowling hissed angrily.
“Let the record show that Ms. Chidwilds has identified the defendants,” Benjerpot said. “Ms. Chidwilds, you said that when Mr. Go was waving a laser rifle of some sort around, you immediately got back into your cruiser and left. Why was that?”
“I was afraid,” she said, “They were obviously dangerous. All the chanting and flailing around is something terrorists do.”
“Objection!” Mr. Trowling said, forcefully. The judge nodded.
“Sustained,” he turned to Ms. Chidwilds, “Ma’am, please keep your answers to facts only. No need to give your opinion. The jury should disregard the last part of Ms. Chidwilds’s statement.” The lady lowered her eyes and nodded. The prosecution continued.
“Did you see the defendants doing anything that might have initiated the explosion that later destroyed the planet?” Ms. Benjerpot paused to give Ms. Chidwilds time to think.
“Well, as I said, they were spraying fuel around. And that man, he fired a laser rifle.”
“But did you see whether the beam from the laser hit anything?”
“No, I didn’t want to stay there and find out so I got back in my cruiser.”
“Think very hard, Ms. Childwilds. Did you see anything while you were driving away?” After a long pause, Om Chidwilds looked up suddenly, as if just remembering something.
“I did see them attack a janitor,” she said, finally. Ms. Benjerpot looked relieved to have arrived at this answer. “As I was fueling my ship, this was before I went into the plaza to get a drink, I saw both the lady and the man messing around on a bench near the entrance to the plaza. The janitor was passing by with his cleaning cart and they jumped him.”
“What do you mean ‘jumped him’?”
“I guess it was more like they jumped on him. They stood on the bench and when he walked by, they knocked his cart over. It seemed like some cleaning products and stuff spilled.”
“Did they take anything from the cart?”
“I didn’t see.”
“Think back, did they take any keys or access cards?”
“I really don’t remember.” Benjerpot sighed.
“Thank you, Ms. Chidwilds. No further questions, your honor.”
***
“Mr. Trowling, you may cross examine this witness.” Mr. Trowling stood again and nodded.
“Thank you, your honor,” he turned and smiled at Ms. Chidwilds. “Ms. Chidwilds, you’re from Gosparg 4, is that right?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Born and raised?”
“Yes, sir. My family are natives to Gosparg 4.”
“Gosparg 4 is an interesting place, as I understand it. It was fairly isolated up until the Fifteenth Era, wasn’t it?”
“Why yes, it was,” she beamed, proud of her home planet and flattered that someone knew its history. “The inter-corstal rift kept travelers from being able to safely reach the atmosphere, and kept Gospargians from exiting the atmosphere, so the planet was very much cut off until only recently.”
“And that’s contributed to the unique cultural aspects of the planet, right?”
“Oh yes, all of our traditions occurred nowhere else in the universe.”
“Objection,” Benjerpot sighed, “Your honor, I’m sure we all find the history of Gosparg 4 to be fascinating, but what connection could this possibly have to the facts on trial here?”
“I’m inclined to agree with Ms. Benjerpot,” the judge said, “Mr. Trowling, if you can’t make the connection in the next sentence, I’m going to strike this line of questioning and move us along.”
“Your honor, I assure you that there is a connection here,” said Trowling, smiling. He turned back to Ms. Chidwilds. “Apologies, Ms. Chidwilds, we’ll be finished up here shortly, just a few more questions.”
“That’s ok,” she said.
“So, could it be said then, that music, such as it is known in most other parts of the galaxy, was completely foreign on Gosparg 4?”
“Oh, yes, that’s correct. We didn’t have music until the rift was breached and travelers brought it from other places. And even then, most Gospargians didn’t like it or understand it.”
“And since then, has music become popular on Gosparg 4?”
“Not really. We had one radio station that played music for a while, but it wasn’t popular and lasted only about a year before the format was changed back to radio dramas.”
“So most beings from Gosparg 4 don’t grow up listening to music?”
“Correct.”
“Do you recognize music when you’re out and about? When you’re at your job, for example, do you notice when music is playing?”
“I do notice it eventually, but it usually takes a while. I think that I tend to tune it out.” As she said this, Benjerpot inhaled, this realizing where Trowling was going with this line of questioning.
“Understandable,” Trowling said, before going in for the kill, “So when you say that the defendants were chanting, is it possible that they were actually singing and you just didn’t realize it?” She looked stunned, but then nodded slowly.
“Well, yes, I guess that is possible.”
“And if someone was singing and dancing, would you have recognized that?”
“Maybe not,” she admitted.
“So then it’s possible that what you witnessed the defendants doing, which you assumed to be violent acts and chanting threats, could possibly have just been singing and dancing?”
“I… Yes.”
“Thank you, Ms. Chidwilds. No further questions.”
***
“The Beings call Shakashi Timura to the stand,” Ms. Benjerpot said. A very small creature entered the courtroom and was escorted to the witness stand. He sat down and blinked his giant eyes several times.
“Mr. Timura, you arrived at the GasTron XQ Service Planet on December the first in the early afternoon, is that correct?”
“Gyes,” he replied.
“This was shortly before the explosion, right?”
“Gyes, I’s believes so. I’s had flown away maybe one hour when radio gwarning says no to go there. I’s thinks I’s very luck.”
“And about how long were you on the GasTron planet before you left?”
“I’s there maybe one senth of one hour. I’s fueled up I’s craft, and cleanered window.”
“So you think you were there less than ten minutes, and all you did was fuel your space craft, and clean its windows?”
“Gyes.”
***
Mr. Timura pulled his Gunnar Shore Fox cruiser into the parking area of the GasTron XQ Service Planet and stopped in front of a fuel pump. He got out of the cruiser and began to open up the fuel tank. He removed the cover and took the fuel hose from the pump. He struggled to connect the hose to his vehicle for a few moments. He began to fill the fuel tank and kept steady pressure on the hose, and kept his eye on the tank until a commotion caught his eye.
He turned and spotted a human man and woman acting strangely a few fueling stations away. The man was doing something that looked like karate and was waving what appeared to be a laser rifle. The woman was messing around with one of the fuel hoses. Mr. Timura shook his head. He didn’t understand humans. They always seemed like they were up to something.
As he continued fueling his cruiser, Mr. Timura noticed that a GasTron employee had approached the humans. The employee looked like a janitor, and he looked very angry. He said something, but Mr. Timura couldn’t hear what it was. Suddenly the janitor lunged at the two humans, attempting to rip the fuel hose out of the grip of one of them.
“I don’t know what the fuck you guys think you’re doing, but you can’t be out here spraying fucking fuel around!” the janitor yelled. “This shit costs more per liter than your lives are worth, and it’s flammable as fuck!”
Good, thought Mr. Timura. These humans were always making a mess of things. And these two seemed particularly dangerous. He finished fueling his cruiser and began to clean the windows.
As the janitor got to work trying to clean up the spilled fuel, the two humans stalked angrily away. One yelled something about rain as he left. Mr. Timura got back into his car. He was in a hurry, but if he wasn’t, he would have reported this behavior to the authorities.
***
“Mr. Timura,” Trowling began, “You said the defendants appeared to be doing some kind of karate?”
“Gyes.”
“Is it possible that they were dancing?”
“Gyes, but not ver good.” This got a chuckle from the courtroom. Dixie turned to Johnny and whispered loudly.
“What the fuck does he know?”
“He better hope we don’t-” Johnny said this much too loudly, and Trowling cleared his throat to cut him off. In the front row, Chichay and Sweaty shook their heads.
“Mr. Timura, what kind of spacecraft do you pilot?”
“I’s have Gunnar Shore Fox.”
“That’s a great craft. Runs forever as long as you keep up on the maintenance, right?”
“Gyes ser.”
“In fact, the only thing that wasn’t so great about that craft was the fueling mechanism, right? It never quite connected properly with the fuel hoses.”
“Gyes. I’s have to hold hose in to fuel. Ver hard.”
“What happens if you don’t?”
“Fuel go on ground.”
“Did that happen to you this time?”
“Oh no, ser. I’s ver good at fueling I’s craft. Never takes I’s ocs off.” He looked uncomfortable.
“So if you never took your eyes off of the fuel pump while filling the tank of your craft, how did you witness the defendants doing anything? Mr. Timura, I believe that you saw my clients singing and dancing. It might have looked different to you. They’re not the best dancers.”
“That motherfucker…” Dixie muttered.
“So do you agree that you may have taken your eyes off the fueling of your craft to watch the defendants, and perhaps spilled some fuel?”
“I’s… Gyes.”
“The defense has no further questions for Mr. Timura.” The judge shook his head.
“Mr. Timura, you may step down. Unless either counsel has any reason not to, I propose we break for lunch.”
***
Dixie and Johnny sat in a small holding area with Mr. Trowling, Chichay, and Sweaty. All five were eating some kind of sandwiches. Dixie and Johnny were again chained to a ring on the floor.
“I think this morning went pretty well,” Trowling said. “I knew from the Beings’ opening statement that the jury wasn’t buying the idea that you all did this. Now, this afternoon we have a little bigger of a challenge before we get to call our own witnesses.”
“What’s coming up next?” Sweaty asked.
“Well, unfortunately, the Beings are going to call the janitor.”
“Who?” Dixie asked.
“The guy who cleans and maintains the GasTron. You knocked him over a bunch of times in your little performance.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Johnny said.
“Then just sit there in the cage and don’t say or do anything and we’ll be fine.”
“Speaking of which,” Dixie said, “When are you putting us on the stand?”
“I’m not.”
“But you have to,” she said.
“No, I don’t. Look, you aren’t required to take the stand, and a lot of times it can be bad for your case. Now obviously, depending on how this afternoon’s testimony goes, I would consider it, but only if what it added to your defense was more than any potential risk.”
“It’s all risk,” Chichay said dryly. “Don’t even think about putting them on the stand. It’ll be a disaster.”
“Thanks a lot, Chich,” Johnny said.
“But if you don’t put me on the stand, how am I going to make sure everyone knows we’re good dancers?”
“Huh?”
“You just told that squiggly guy,” Dixie said, her voice rising, “That we weren’t the best dancers!”
“Yeah!” Johnny said.
“Dixie, he didn’t mean anything by that,” Chichay said. “He was just trying to make the point that what Timura saw as something dangerous wasn’t dangerous.”
“You chode-wallet!” Dixie screamed. She threw her sandwich on the floor and dived at Trowling. The chain that shackled her to the ground stopped her and she fell face first on the floor.
“Are you kidding me?” Trowling asked.
“That’s why you want to take the stand?” Chichay asked, incredulously. “Do you guys even understand how serious these charges against you are? This isn’t a game!”
“Well musical theater isn’t a game to us, either!” Johnny cried. He pulled the chain and dragged Dixie back across the floor until she was at the bench where he sat.
“Look,” Trowling said, ever the charmer, “I’m sorry I made light of your dancing. I haven’t actually seen you dance. What do you say we win this trial, and then once you’re acquitted, we can all sit down together and you can perform an entire musical?” This seemed to satisfy Dixie and Johnny, who smiled and nodded.
“Now before we go back out there, is there anything you do actually remember about the janitor?”
“Nope.”
“Come on, guys,” Sweaty said, “There has to be something you remember about this janitor.”
“What’s a janitor?” asked Dixie, straining to reach her sandwich across the room on the floor.
“Forget it,” said Trowling, “I’ll handle this based on what the Beings ask him. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
***
Back in the courtroom, the spectators were slowly filing into the gallery. The prosecuting attorneys were already seated, with their heads together and talking quietly. Trowling entered through the rear door with Chichay and Sweaty. They were chatting lightly as they took their seats in the front row, and Trowlng went through the gate to take a seat at the defense table.
Moments later, the rear door of the courtroom opened and in a shuffle of chains, Dixie and Johnny entered, flanked by four armed guards. Johnny was whistling. Chichay and Sweaty cringed, and Trowling made a throat cutting motion. Seeing that, Johnny stopped, rolled his eyes, then shrugged. The guards shoved them into the cage, shackled them to the floor, locked the cage, and left.
Once the judge and jury were back in the courtroom, the judge gaveled the court back into session and allowed the prosecution to call their next witness.
“The Beings call Matthew Law to the stand.” The rear door opened and, much to everyone’s surprise, a tall lanky lady entered. There was a murmur among the gallery, and the judge cleared his throat. The lady took the stand and was sworn in by the bailiff.
“Mr. Law, thank you for your time here today,” Ms. Benjerpot began. “Could you please tell the jury what you do for a living?” The lady took a deep breath, rolled her eyes up into her head, and let out a low moan.
“I… am a… janitor…” she said, in a deep voice that sounded like she was pretending to be a man. “At the… GasTron Service Planet…”
“And what does this entail?” asked Benjerpot. There was a pause while the lady cleared her throat again.
“Cleaning… sweeping… emptying rubbish bins…”
“How long have you done this job?”
“A… long time…”
“Were you working the morning of December the first?”
“Yes…”
***
Matthew Law pushed his janitor’s cart across the parking lot of the GasTron XQ Service Planet. He was about to empty the rubbish bins by the door to the plaza when he spotted two unruly humans. They were near the fuel pumps on the far side of the lot and they were angrily chanting and stomping in a circle around a small device on the ground. Concerned, Matthew approached them.
“Hello friends,” he said. The two humans stopped and stared at him.
“You think you can tell us what to do?” one of the humans demanded. The other reached for a laser rifle and aimed it at Matthew. He put his hands in the air and started to back away slowly and-
***
The judge interrupted Mr. Law’s story to call both attorneys to a sidebar at his bench.
“Ms. Benjerpot,” he said, quietly, but sternly, “I don’t exactly know what you’re doing here, but I think you owe at least myself and Mr. Trowling an explanation. Benjerpot looked nervous.
“Your honor, following the explosion of the planet and the rescue of the survivors, Mr. Law appeared at the police station and explained that he witnessed the defendants setting up some kind of explosive device that he believes ultimately ignited the fuel in the tanks beneath the surface of the planet.”
“This Mr. Law was rescued by the IRER? There’s no mention of this person in the manifest,” Trowling said.
“His shift apparently ended shortly before the explosion.”
“Look, I’m just going to say it,” said the judge, impatiently. “Does it bother neither of you that Mr. Matthew Law is clearly a woman? And that thus far in this trial, none of the witnesses who have mentioned the janitor have mentioned that the janitor was a woman? Or even said she when referring to him, eh, her?”
“I…” Benjerpot began, uncomfortably, “Didn’t want to make any assumptions about the witness’s preferred gender?”
“I was just waiting for someone else to bring it up,” said Trowling, shrugging. The judge shook his head.
“Ms. Benjerpot, I’m going to allow you to continue with this witness, but I would like the witness to explain how… he… came to provide the information of his account to the authorities. This should be part of the court record.”
“Thank you, your honor.”
***
Matthew Law looked cautiously at the strange device near the humans’ feet as he backed away. One of the humans took the fuel pump and began to douse the small device. They then crowded around it and blocked his view. He glanced at his watch and noticed the time. His shift was almost over, so he finished his work and went home.
***
Mr. Trowling stood and addressed the witness.
“Miss...ter Law,” he said. “Thank you for your time here today, and for the good deed you’ve done to contribute to the speedy resolution of this tragic incident. First, I just want to confirm that, based on the story you just told the court, you saw the defendants with a device that you took to be a bomb. Is that right?”
“I… Yes.”
“And you were worried about this? You felt the defendants were dangerous enough that you shouldn’t approach them?”
“Yes… They were violent.”
“Yes, so you said. You seemed quite frightened of them. So much so that you finished your shift at the service planet and went home. Is that right?”
“I… Yes.” Law let out a soft moan.
“And you didn’t alert your employers before you left?”
“...No.”
“You didn’t alert the authorities after you left?”
“Ohh… No.”
“You didn’t actually go to the authorities until the next day, is that right?” Law looked uncomfortable.
“Ohh...They had a bomb!” Law shouted, swaying side to side.
“And you didn’t bother to report that!” said Trowling, losing patience. “Mr. Law, if all of that is correct, then it amounts to negligence on your part, and you should also face charges in front of this court.” At that moment, Mr. Law’s eyes snapped wide open.
“Now listen!” Law said, in a suddenly focused, high pitched, feminine voice. “I’m just trying to help!”
“Mr. Law?” said Trowling.
“Mr. Law?” said the judge.
“Oh come on!” cried Law, “You idiots mean to tell me you really thought I was an elderly janitor named Matt Law?”
“You aren’t? But that was exactly who you said you were when you gave testimony to both the police and to this court. Are you saying that this is not true?”
“I’m a medium,” Law said. “I’ve been channeling Matt Law since he died in the explosion.” A gasp went up in the gallery, followed by the rising sound of everyone beginning to talk at once. The jury stared in disbelief. The judge banged his gavel.
“Ok, that’s enough!” he shouted “Bailiff! Come and escort Mr.- whoever you are out of here. Take- him or her to my chambers and wait for me there. All of Mr. Law’s - or whoever that was - testimony should be stricken from the record and the jury should disregard everything they’ve heard. Counselors, in the interest of time, we will continue with this trial once I have dealt with Mr. - her, but do not assume that this matter is settled. We’ll take a thirty minute recess.” He stood, slammed his gavel on the podium, and stormed out of the courtroom. Trowling walked over to the cage to confer with Dixie and Johnny. Chichay and Sweaty moved as close to the cage as they could get. Some other beings in the gallery used the opportunity to take a break and left the room.
“How’d you know she was faking it?” Johnny asked.
“Eh, it’s just the phony medium scam. Been going on for years.”
“We should try that sometime,” Dixie said to Johnny.
“Please… don’t say things like that in front of me,” Trowling said. “Now the real question is how the hell you two didn’t realize it? You saw the damn janitor!”
“Yeah, but we didn’t remember what he looked like.”
“I didn’t remember seeing a janitor at all.”
“We had a lot to drink, Aaron,” Johnny said. Trowling waved his hand dismissively.
“Never mind. Look, the Beings are going to rest at this point, so we’re going to call our main witness. Between that shit show and our guy, I think we’re golden.”
“What should we do?” Johnny asked.
“Sit there and look innocent,” Chichay said.
“Seriously,” said Sweaty. “Guys, try not to fuck this up.”
“Why do you guys think we’re going to fuck this up?” Dixie asked.
***
“Mr. Trowling, the defense may call its first witness.”
“The defense calls Boccibald Norbaldo III to the stand.” After the spectacle of the last witness, all eyes turned to the rear door of the courtroom. Even Dixie and Johnny looked, though they had been coached not to. They immediately wished they hadn’t when they spotted, in the very last seats of the very last row, the unmistakable fish heads of two members of the Trout Mob.
Finally the door opened, and a small, bluish-green alien with a spiral antenna on his head entered. He was clearly a hobo, but had done his best to clean up for the occasion. Johnny smiled and was about to wave when Sweaty and Chichay, who had turned away from the door specifically to make sure that something like this didn’t happen, shook their heads furiously. Johnny sighed and turned back to face the front of the courtroom.
Once the alien hobo had been seated in the witness box and sworn in, Trowling stood to begin his questioning.
“Mr. Norbaldo,” he said, “Thank you for your time today. Can you tell the court what it is that you do for a living?”
“Oh, nothing much.”
“What does that mean?”
“I do the odd job here and there,” said the hobo. “I’m a little bit good at a lot of different things.”
“So you’re a bit of an interplanetary tramp?”
“That’s exactly it,” he said, smiling.
“You have no fixed residence?”
“No sir, I prefer to sleep in the open, nothing between me and the great beyond.”
“Mr. Norbaldo, where were you on the morning of December the first?”
“I was at the GasTron planet. I had hitched a ride there with a produce delivery truck, and I elected to stay there and chance waiting for another ride on accounta the pay showers are just so nice.” The Hobo nodded knowingly to the jury. About half nodded back.
“And while you were there at the service plaza, you met the defendants, Ms. Doublestacks and Mr. Go?”
***
Boccibald Norbaldo III sat at a table in the large lounge area of the GasTron XQ Service Planet with Dixie and Johnny, a heap of food and drinks spread out before them. Dixie and Johnny were both exceedingly drunk and enjoying themselves immensely. They had been talking at length about the specialties of the different planets throughout the galaxy. Drinking Hellfire from Manok, for example, or smoking hoybal grass from Gabelta 9. Bocci recommended the Cheef Fish sandwich from Rollo’s out on Barbarel, and Johnny wholeheartedly agreed that it was the best.
When the topic turned to music, Dixie and Johnny started talking about the only thing Earth was best at (besides meth), which was musicals. Bocci had no idea what they were talking about.
“Musicals?” he asked.
“Right, like… movies,” Johnny said slowly, “But where songs make up a bunch of the story. They’re kinda old fashioned, even on Earth, and I think only Earth and like, one planet in the Kirkwood System really do them. But my god they're the single greatest form of entertainment ever to have been invented.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Bocci said, skeptically. “What about the mating ballads of the Hydrabalk Delta?”
“Better.”
“Disco Battles?”
“Better.”
“Nature documentaries?”
“Better!”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it until I can actually see one.”
“When you finally do get to see a musical, make sure you start with Singin’ in the Rain,” Johnny said.
“Oh, yeah,” Dixie said, very seriously. “That’s the best there is.”
“What? How can you even sing in the rain? Isn’t it dangerous?” Bocci seemed confused.
“No, Bocc, it’s Earth rain. It isn’t poisonous.”
“Yet.”
“Right.”
“Ah, I see. So what’s it about?” Dixie and Johnny looked at each other and smiled. They grabbed all the liquor from the table, most of the remaining food, and Bocci, by the arm, as they headed toward the parking area.
***
“So you watched the movie?” Trowling asked.
“No sir. Even better! They acted it out for me!” The alien beamed as if nothing that good had ever happened to him.
“How did they do that, Mr. Norbaldo? Did they have the music?”
“No sir, they just told me the talking parts, and for the songs, they sang the words or did the sounds with their mouths.”
“I see. And did they act out the movie as well? Was this more like a play?”
“Oh yes, they acted the whole thing out, including all the dance scenes. Dixie and Johnny are awful good dancers.”
“See!?” exclaimed Dixie. The judge banged the gavel.
“I’ll remind the defendants that their input in these proceedings is not allowed unless specifically requested.”
“I apologize on behalf of my clients, your honor. They’re just very passionate about theater.” Trowling bowed slightly before resuming his questioning.
“Mr. Norbaldo, what kind of dancing did the defendants do?”
***
“...And then Don leaves, but it’s raining, and so he makes his way home by Singin’ in the Rain!” They both paused and looked at each other.
“How are we gonna do this one?” Johnny asked. “We need rain.”
“It don’t rain on this planet,” Bocci said.
“We know, Bocc,” Dix said. “We’ll have to fake it.” Dixie walked over to the nearest fuel pump and pulled the hose out. She squeezed the handle and a clear, sweet smelling fuel shot out across the parking lot.
“This one actually smells pretty good, Johnny,” Dixie said. “I’ll just aim it up in the air and you can do the dance under it.”
“Works for me,” Johnny said. He and Dixie took their places. Dixie started the fuel hose again, pointing it straight up into the air so that it rained down on Johnny.
“Take care of that throat,” Dixie acted. “You’re a big singing star now, remember? This California dew is just a little heavier than usual tonight.”
“Really?” Asked Johnny, holding a small laser rifle that he’d fished out of the car as if it were an umbrella. “From where I’m standing, the sun is shining all over the place.” At that, Dixie stepped away and powered up the fuel hose again, pointing it straight up into the air so that it rained down on Johnny.
I'm singin' in the rain
Just singin' in the rain
What a glorious feelin'
I'm happy again
I'm laughin' at clouds
So dark up above
The sun's in my heart
And I'm ready for love
Johnny sang and performed an approximation of some of Don’s dance moves, including splashing wildly in a puddle of fuel that was collecting around his feet in the parking lot. At one point, he mimed opening the umbrella, and accidentally discharged the laser rifle. The stream ricocheted around the fueling area, striking one of the pumps. A small hole appeared, and it smoldered on the edges. He shrugged and continued dancing, splashing harder and harder in the fuel puddles, with his rifle over one shoulder.
***
“Mr. Norbaldo, do you think that many of the travelers who saw the defendants’ performance that day were familiar with musicals?”
“Certainly not. As I understand it, musicals are kind of old fashioned, and were only popular on a few planets anyway.”
“So it’s possible that other travelers were not sure what the defendants were doing while they were performing Singin’ in the Rain for you?”
“I think that’s possible, yes. In fact, the janitor was quite angry with them. But he really should give musicals a chance! They’re wonderful!”
***
As Johnny splashed in the fuel puddle, the janitorial worker appeared silently behind him. Johnny turned slowly and gave the man a sheepish look. Dixie lowered the fuel pump and turned the stream down to just a trickle. The janitor crossed both arms angrily.
“I’m dancin’” Johnny Go sang softly. Dixie raised the fuel hose again. “And singin’-”
“Listen, asshole!” the janitor yelled, lunging for Dixie and grabbing the hose from her. “I don’t know what the fuck you guys think you’re doing, but you can’t be out here spraying fucking fuel around! This shit costs more per liter than your lives are worth, and it’s flammable as fuck!”
“In the rain,” Johnny whispered, and tap danced away from the man. Dixie followed, and they sat next to Bocci while they watched the janitor throw some kind of sawdust looking chemical on the fuel.
***
“Just one more question, Mr. Norbaldo,” Trowling said, smiling, “Did you, at any point during the time you spent with the defendants on December the first, witness them do anything that would have caused the explosion on the GasTron XQ Service Planet?”
“Nothing. I watched them the whole time and they didn’t do anything other than entertain me.”
“Thank you. No further questions.”
***
“Mr. Norbaldo,” Ms. Benjerpot said as she stood up from the prosecution’s table. “Did the defense offer you anything in exchange for your testimony today?”
“The defense?”
“Yes, Mr. Trowling.”
“Mr. Trowling offered me only the gift of believing me, and of not taking advantage of my unconventional lifestyle and near-indigent status. Unlike the police, I should add.”
“Could you elaborate on that point, Mr. Norbaldo?”
“Well Miss. Essentially, the police threatened me with jail time and probation in a halfway house if I didn’t back up the story you all were spinning, about Dixie and Johnny starting the explosion.” There was a gasp from the gallery. Norbaldo continued. “Fortunately, Mr. Trowling also asked me about the incident and offered to assist me in any way possible if I decided not to get up here and lie under oath.” Benjerpot looked panicked.
“So you did receive something from the defense,” she said.
“Only the opportunity to tell the truth.”
“Mr. Norbaldo-” she began, but was cut off.
“As I said, these two did nothing wrong. They were nicer to me than anyone normally is. I’ve had that song stuck in me head since then, too.”
“Mr. Norbaldo-”
“When I hear that happy beat… I feel like dancin' down the street,” he said, before starting to sing, “In that Broadway rhythm writhing, beating rhythm…” At this point, Dixie and Johnny couldn’t contain themselves anymore and all three sing loudly in unison:
GOTTA DANCE!!!
After the closing arguments, in which Mr. Trowling gloated and Ms. Benjerpot attempted to salvage her case, the judge sent the jury off to deliberate. He was just about to call for the bailiff to escort Dixie and Johnny back to the holding cell to wait when a smell began to permeate the room, and a light smoke began to waft up from the cage where Dixie and Johnny sat. Chichay and Sweaty looked at one another with dread.
“Oh for shit’s sake,” Chichay muttered.
“Fucking fools.” Within moments, Dixie and Johnny had been blasted with a fire extinguisher, their clothes only slightly singed. Most of the gallery had been evacuated, and the judge looked furious. The two Trout Mob goons stood in the back, smirking.
“At least the jury wasn’t in here for that,” Trowling said under his breath.
Four Hours Later…
The gallery was full again, and all attorneys were back in the courtroom. Dixie and Johnny were back in their cage, wearing the same singed prison jumpsuits. The judge entered and everyone stood until he was seated.
The judge was just about to call the jury back into the room to read their verdict when Trowling rose and cleared his throat.
“Your Honor, I understand that this is most unusual, but I’d like to request a meeting with you and the prosecution in chambers. My clients would like to discuss a deal.”
