Illegal Alien

*20*

“The People call the Tosok named Stant.”

Stant rose from one of the six Tosok chairs in the seating gallery and strode through the gate into the well in front of Judge Pringle’s bench.

“You do solemnly swear or affirm,” said the clerk, “that the testimony you may give in the cause now pending before this Court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

“State your name, please.”

“Stant. Phonetically: S-T-A-N-T.”

“Be seated.” While Stant was being sworn in, a bailiff had removed the standard chair from the witness stand and replaced it with another Tosok one. Stant made himself comfortable, the high sides of the chair nestling in the hollows beneath where his legs joined his torso.

Linda Ziegler rose. “Stant, before we begin, I think it’s necessary to talk a bit about that oath you just swore. Do you know the difference between lying and telling the truth?”

“Of course.”

“You said ‘I do’ when the clerk said, ‘So help you God?’ ”

“Yes.”

“Do Tosoks in general believe in a higher being?”

“Yes.”

“This being—he or she is held to be the creator?”

“She is the creator of the universe, yes. And of certain lifeforms.”

“And do you personally subscribe to a belief in this being?”

“Yes.”

“So when you invoke God’s aid in helping you tell the truth, you are in fact calling on a power in which you personally believe?”

“I am.”

“You understand the weight we place on telling the truth during a trial, don’t you?”

“It has been explained to me at length. I will tell the truth.”

“Thank you—and forgive me for asking those questions. Now, please, Stant, tell us what your relationship is to the defendant, Hask?”

“I am his half brother.”

Ziegler was visibly flustered. “I— I beg your pardon?”

“I believe I have used the term correctly. We have the same mother, but different fathers.”

Ziegler glanced over at Dale. Dale was as shocked by this revelation as Ziegler was, but he kept a poker face. She then looked behind Dale to where Nobilio was sitting; he, too, had an expression of complete surprise on his face: eyebrows high, open mouth rounded into a circle. It had been a simple, pro forma opening question, and she’d doubtless anticipated the answer to be, “I’m his shipmate” or “he’s my coworker” or something equally obvious. She visibly tried to regain her own composure. “Your half brother,” she repeated.

Stant’s tuft waved front to back; the Tosok equivalent of a nod. “Yes.”

“Your Honor,” said Ziegler, “permission to treat the witness as hostile.”

“I am not hostile,” said Stant.

Judge Pringle looked at Stant. “By hostile, she means vehemently opposed to the prosecution’s case. Now please don’t speak again until I’ve ruled in this matter.”

“Your Honor,” said Dale, rising to his feet and spreading his giant arms, “the defense objects. Stant has exhibited no hostility.”

“Your Honor,” said Ziegler, “some latitude would be appropriate.”

Pringle frowned. “Being someone’s brother doesn’t necessarily confer Hostile status. Besides, we don’t know anything about Tosok family relationships. I’m going to reserve judgment until we do.”

“Very well,” said Ziegler. She turned to Stant. “Let’s find out a bit about them, then. Stant, how is that you come to be Hask’s half brother?”

“I have male genitalia. Otherwise, I would be his half sister.”

The jury laughed. Ziegler looked annoyed. Dale sympathized with her. She had no idea what was going to come out here, and that was a position no lawyer liked to be in. “Are you the product of a broken home?”

“Our domicile was intact.”

“No, no. What I mean is, did your parents divorce? Why is it that the same female had children by two males?”

“My mother had children by four males, of course,” said Stant.

“Four males,” said Ziegler, blinking.

“That is correct.”

Ziegler paused, apparently trying to formulate a proper question. Finally, she looked again at Dale, as if entreating him not to object simply for the sake of objecting, and said to Stant, “Perhaps you could explain Tosok reproduction to us… if that’s not a private matter, that is.”

“It is not private, although our custom is not to speak of the inner workings of the body, except when consulting with a priest-physician. The outer self is one’s own responsibility, but the inner self is the province of God.”

Everyone waited for Stant to go on. After a few moments Judge Pringle said, gently, “Stant, you are required to answer the question.”

The Tosok was silent for a moment longer, then his topknot parted in a shrug. “For one short period during her lifetime a Tosok female is able to reproduce.” He averted his eyes from the other Tosoks in the room. “During that period each of her four wombs will be inseminated on the same day—usually by four different males, but in some deviant cases, individual males will be responsible for multiple wombs. In the usual case, though, all offspring will have the same mother, but each have a different father.”

“I see,” said Ziegler. “Well, then—”

“Ms. Ziegler,” said Judge Pringle, interrupting from her position high up on the bench, “there’s only one relevant point here, so let’s get to it.” The judge herself turned to face Stant. “Stant, on Earth it’s common for people to feel extraordinary loyalty to their close relatives—so much so that they might be inclined to shelter them, even if they’ve committed an illegal act. Is this in fact the case on your world?”

Stant considered for a moment, then: “In addition to Hask, I have two other half siblings on my mother’s side. Beyond that, my father impregnated three other females, of course, and so the products of those unions are also my half siblings. Being one’s half sibling is a common enough occurrence, and most everyone I know is related to me to some degree. For instance, Rendo”—he pointed to a Tosok with cyan-colored skin—“and I are related maternally as well, although not as directly as Hask and I. These are points of mild interest to us; they do not circumscribe our interpersonal relationships.”

“Thank you,” said Judge Pringle. “Motion to confer hostile status denied. Please proceed with normal questioning, Ms. Ziegler.”

Ziegler nodded. “Stant, tell us what your profession is.”

“I am a biochemist.”

Ziegler looked relieved to have this time gotten the answer she’d expected. “And where did you receive your training in this discipline?”

Dale rose. “Objection, Your Honor. The Court has no way to verify any of this.”

“Overruled.”

“You may answer the question, Stant.”

“I trained under Kest‹click› in Deta‹pop›darl.”

Dale rose again. “Your Honor, this is gibberish. We object strenuously.”

“Overruled. Sit down, Mr. Rice.”

Ziegler nodded thanks at the judge. “Let’s try it this way, Stant. How long have the Tosoks been on Earth?”

“Approximately 1.2 Earth years.”

“And did your training in biochemistry last longer than 1.2 Earth years?”

“Much longer.”

“So, it is a chronological impossibility for any human being to have more experience in Tosok biochemistry than you do?”

“That would follow, yes.”

“There are seven Tosoks on Earth, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Are you more expert in Tosok biochemistry than is Hask?”

“Yes.”

“More expert in Tosok biochemistry than is Kelkad?”

“I am, yes.”

“More expert than Rendo?”

“Yes.”

“More than Torbat? Than Dodnaskak?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“More than Ged?”

“Yes.”

“So, Stant, is it fair to say that you are the greatest expert on Tosok chemistry among the seven of you?”

“Yes.”

“And we’ve already established that you are more expert in Tosok biochemistry than any human could possibly be, isn’t that so?”

“It is so.”

“So that means that you are, in fact, the greatest expert on Tosok biochemistry on this entire planet.”

“Yes.”

“Objection,” said Dale, again. “Improper foundation.”

“Overruled. The Court is satisfied with Mr. Stant’s credentials, and is pleased to have the world’s foremost expert in anything appearing before us.”

“Now, Stant,” said Ziegler, “I want to ask you about Tosok skin.”

“Go ahead.”

“We are given to understand that Tosoks can shed their skin.”

“That is correct.”

“How often do they do this?”

“The cycling is very precise. It occurs once every…” He paused, pulled his pocket computer out, and tapped on the cross-shaped keypad. “Once every eleven hundred and forty Earth days.”

“And why is the skin shed? Is it to accommodate increased size?”

“Objection! Leading.”

“I’ll allow some latitude here,” said Pringle. “We’re trying to cover new territory without unduly tying up the Court’s time. Overruled.”

“Yes, that is correct,” said Stant. “Tosoks continue to grow in size throughout their lives—not by much, but enough that the tegument eventually splits and is shed.”

“Is this a voluntary or involuntary action?”

“It is normally involuntary.”

“What do you mean by ‘normally’?”

“Normally, the shedding occurs without intervention. But there is a chemical agent that can induce shedding.”

“This chemical,” said Ziegler. “How is it applied?”

“As a topical solution.”

“In other words, you mean it’s spread on the skin, right?”

“Yes. And once applied to the skin, it causes a slight shrinking of the hide—which has the same effect as the body beneath the hide having grown slightly: it causes the hide to split.”

“Is the Tosok hide in fact composed of scales?”

“Yes, although our scales simply abut one another; they do not overlap as do the scales of your fish or reptiles.”

“Do scales sometimes come loose during this process?”

“Yes, but they also come loose in advance of normal shedding.”

“This chemical substance you’ve referred to—is it common?”

“On Earth? I doubt it exists at all.”

“But would it be among your ship’s store of chemicals?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“In case of severe burns, for instance, the appropriate treatment is to force the damaged skin to shed prematurely.”

“What is normally done with a shed skin?”

“It is disposed of.”

“In any special way?”

“No. It is just thrown out.”

“Thank you, Stant. Now, on another topic, do Tosoks have a circulatory system?”

“Yes.”

“Would you describe it, please?”

Stant swiveled his front eyes to look at Judge Pringle. “Talking about the outer covering of the body is one thing, but interior workings really are something we do not discuss in public, Your Honor.”

“I appreciate that,” said the judge. “But we do need this information.”

Stant was quiet for a moment. “I— perhaps my embarrassment would be lessened if no other Tosoks were present.”

“Our laws require the defendant to be present throughout these proceedings,” said Pringle, “but if you like, I will ask the other Tosoks to leave.”

Dale swung around to look at the six aliens sitting near the bailiffs desk.

“We would be more comfortable to leave as well,” said Kelkad.

“Very well,” said Pringle.

The Tosoks rose from their special chairs. Their long strides carried them quickly across the room. Dale could see that five of their tufts were moving in ways he associated with relief. Ged’s wasn’t moving at all, though—but then, Ged might just be the Tosok equivalent of a dirty old man.

Once the courtroom door had closed behind the last Tosok, Dale and everyone else turned their attention back to Stant.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” said the witness.

“Now,” said Ziegler, “I’d asked you about the Tosok circulatory system.”

“Yes,” said Stant. He paused for a moment, as if working up the nerve to discuss the matter, then: “We have four hearts, located here, here, here, and here.” He pointed to four points spaced evenly around the bottom of his torso. “We also have four lungs, each of which is semicircular in cross section, located directly above each heart. The hearts pump blood oxygenated by the lungs throughout the body.”

“Except for the number and placement of organs involved, this is substantially the same as what happens within a human body, correct?”

“So I would assume.”

“You mentioned blood. What are the constituents of Tosok blood?”

“It consists of a plasma—the chemical composition of which resembles the seawater of our world. In this plasma float various specialized structures, including oxygen conveyors, tools for repairing damage and fighting infection, and free-floating nerve components.”

Dale could hear Frank Nobilio mutter “Fascinating” behind him.

“Free-floating nerve components?” repeated Ziegler.

“Yes. We each have a kivart—an organ that produces these. The floaters are crucial to our muscular control.”

“What happens to your blood when exposed to air?” asked Ziegler.

“It crystallizes, forming a protective covering over the wound.”

“And what color are these crystals?”

“Pink.”

“I show you People’s exhibit forty-two, which is the sample of pink crystals taken from Dr. Calhoun’s breastbone. And, Your Honor, I’d like to enter People’s sixty-three—the UCLA Department of Chemistry analysis on these crystals.”

“Mr. Rice?”

“All right.”

“So entered.”

“Now, Stant, looking at these crystals, and the analysis of their chemical makeup, do you have an opinion about what substance they are?”

“It is blood—Tosok blood.”

“Blood from one of you seven?”

“I cannot say that from the evidence presented here. It could be blood from a Tosok, or conceivably from an animal from our world.”

“But it is blood from a Tosok, or a related life form?”

“Certainly.”

“You mentioned the specialized structures in Tosok blood, Stant. Are they cells?”

“Many are, yes.”

“And do Tosok cells contain within them the genetic blueprint of the individual?”

“They do.”

“Is this blueprint encoded by deoxyribonucleic acid?”

“No.”

“Is the encoding chemical similar to DNA?”

“I really do not know anything about DNA, although early on, before they understood our discomfort in discussing interior workings, Dr. Smathers and Dr. Nobilio did mention it to me. Our genetic molecule encodes in binary, indicated by the presence or absence of methyl groups.”

“Without delving further at this stage into the precise details of the encoding method, is it fair to say there is a wide range of information that can be encoded?”

“Yes.”

“So, since Tosok blood contains cells, and these cells contain widely varying genetic information, is it possible to identify the individual from whom a sample of Tosok blood was taken?”

Stant looked at the judge, looked at Dale, then looked back at Ziegler.

There was a large analog clock on the back wall of the courtroom; it whirred loudly as its minute hand advanced one position. “I wish to assert my Fifth Amendment privilege,” Stant said at last.

There were gasps from the audience. “I— I beg your pardon?” said Ziegler.

“I believe I have phrased the statement correctly. I assert my Fifth Amendment privilege.”

Dale Rice and Michiko Katayama were consulting at the defense table.

Frank leaned in from the row behind them. Journalists were furiously making notes.

“Which part of the Fifth Amendment are you referring to?” asked Ziegler.

“ ‘No person shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself.’ ”

“How does that possibly apply here?” asked Ziegler.

Dale rose. “Objection, Your Honor! The witness has asserted the privilege.”

“Counsel, approach,” said Pringle.

Dale, Ziegler, and their second chairs came to sidebar. “What’s going on, Ms. Ziegler?” asked Pringle impatiently.

“I have no idea, Your Honor.”

“Does Stant have legal counsel?”

“I’m willing to serve,” said Dale.

“I hardly think that’s appropriate,” said Pringle. “Is there any reason to think he doesn’t understand the Fifth Amendment?”

“Of course he understands it,” said Dale. “It’s obvious. Ms. Ziegler wants to introduce the concept that Tosok blood can be genetically fingerprinted. By taking the Fifth, Stant is clearly saying no, it cannot—and therefore what you’ve taken as evidence against Hask could also be evidence against him.”

“Or else,” said Michiko, “there’s another possibility. “He’s saying that because Hask is his half brother, they have the same Tosok blood type, and that the evidence would incriminate Stant as well as Hask.”

Judge Pringle pursed her lips. “I wish this hadn’t come up before the jury. All right, stand back.”

The lawyers moved away from the bench.

“Ms. Ziegler,” said Judge Pringle. “You may proceed if you have questions in areas other than the one in which Mr. Stant has asserted his constitutional right not to answer.”

Ziegler looked at Stant, then shrugged. “No further questions.”

“Mr. Rice?”

Dale hadn’t yet made it back to his seat. He turned around. “Mr. Stant, are there circumstances under which a Tosok can lose scales that are unrelated to the shedding of skin?”

“Certainly.”

“Such as?”

“Abrasions.”

“You mean if you bumped into something, some scales might flake off.”

“It would take a big bump, but, yes, that can happen.”

“Could one deliberately pry off one’s own scales?”

“It would hurt, but it could be done.”

“You mentioned a chemical that can induce shedding.”

“Yes. It’s called despodalk.”

“This despodalk—you said it’s something normally kept in your ship’s stores?”

“Correct.”

“For medicinal purposes?”

“That is right.”

“Presumably you have an inventory of what supplies are aboard your ship.”

“Yes.”

“And did you check that inventory to see if any despodalk was missing?”

“At the request of Detective Perez, yes, I did that.”

“And was any?”

“Not according to the inventory, but—”

“Thank you. Now—”

“No, wait—”

“I control the asking of questions at this phase, Mr. Stant. You can’t interrupt me.”

“But you made me swear—invoking God as I did so—to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and—”

“I’d like to move on,” said Dale.

Stant turned to the judge. “My answer is not complete.”

Pringle nodded. “I will allow Mr. Stant to complete his answer.”

“Thank you,” said Stant. “The quantity of despodalk aboard our ship matched the quantity specified in the inventory. But the inventory is kept in what you would call an open computer file; if anyone wished to modify it, they could. It would be an easy matter to take a container of the chemical and to alter the inventory to make it appear that none had been removed. I have no personal knowledge of the quantity of despodalk we had when we left our world, and so no way of knowing whether the current inventory is depleted from its original amount.”

“Your Honor,” said Dale, “I move that the last be stricken from the record.”

“Your Honor,” said Ziegler, “I’ll simply reintroduce the same material on redirect.”

“The comment will stand,” said Judge Pringle. “Let’s move along.”

“Once bitten, Your Honor,” said Dale. “No further questions.”

“Redirect?” said Pringle.

Ziegler rose. “Just a few points, Your Honor. Mr. Stant, this chemical agent that can induce shedding—”

“Despodalk.”

“I assume each of your landing craft contains a first-aid kit, no?”

“Yes.”

“And would such kits contain despodalk?”

“No.”

“So the only way some of it would be available here on Earth is if someone had thought in advance to bring some down from your mothership, correct?”

Ziegler was clearly making the case for premeditation.

“That is right.”

“Thank you. Now, Mr. Stant, you said you were the defendant’s half brother—”

It hit Dale in a flash—just as it had doubtless occurred to Ziegler just after she’d completed her direct examination. If Stant and Hask were half brothers, and if they’d been born nearly simultaneously, and if sheddings occurred on a regular schedule, then their natural shedding of skin should have been synchronized. But Stant hadn’t shed his skin since arriving on Earth, whereas Hask’s had been shed almost four months ago—strongly suggesting that Hask’s shedding must have been deliberately induced, presumably to enable him to dispose of his blood-covered hide. Dale was immediately on his feet. “Objection! Improper redirect! The question of Stant’s relationship to Hask came up during direct, and should have been dealt with then.”

“Your Honor, I simply want to clear up some points about Tosok family relationships.”

“No way, Linda,” said Dale.

“Mr. Rice—” said Pringle.

“Sorry, Your Honor,” said Dale, turning now to face the judge. “But family relationships were covered in Ms. Ziegler’s direct; her redirect can only cover material I touched on in my cross.”

“Sustained,” said Pringle. “You know the rules, Ms. Ziegler.”

“Very well. Stant, you’ll recall that Mr. Rice did talk to you about the shedding of skin during his cross-examination. Now, you said that this event naturally occurs on a fixed, predictable schedule, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And would that schedule be synchronized with—”

“Objection!”

“Freeze right there, Ms. Ziegler.”

“But, Your Honor—”

“Freeze.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“If you have proper redirect, you may continue. Otherwise, take your seat now.”

Ziegler considered for several seconds. Finally, she shrugged and sat back down. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

Dale looked over at the jury. Some of the faces were perplexed, but several others were nodding slowly. They’d come to the same realization as Ziegler and Dale had, and would doubtless share it with the others after today’s session, the admonition not to discuss the case notwithstanding.

The damage had been done.