The Android's Dream

Chapter 11

The first thing Creek and Robin did was sleep. They found their way to their cabin, an economy job on one of the lower decks, by the engine and the crew quarters, and squeezed their way through the door. They collapsed onto their respective single bunks and were out, dreamless, for 12 hours.

The second thing they did was shop. Fixer had graciously provided Creek with a sweatshirt to swap out for his torn and bloody shirt (although not so graciously that he didn't charge Creek a ridiculous amount for it) and gave Robin her promised hat for free, but aside from that the two of them had as their possessions only their fake passports and what they had on their bodies. The Neverland was not one of the high-end cruise liners—it belonged to the Haysbert-American cruise line, which specialized in economy package tours for large groups—but it featured a reasonably nice clothes store on the Galaxy Deck. Robin picked out clothes and shoes for the both of them while Creek made inane conversation with the clerk, describing how their luggage had somehow been routed to Bermuda.

The third thing Robin did was get her hair done. The third thing Creek did was get a massage. Both of them winced through their respective procedures but were pleased with the results. The fourth thing they did was sleep some more, waking up ravenous and just in time for the evening's assigned-seat dinner. They found their seat assignment slipped under the door table 17.

"It says that dress is semi-formal—military dress uniforms preferred," Robin said, reading the assignment.

"I'm afraid we're going to disappoint them," Creek said. "At least I got you a nice suit jacket and tie," Robin said. "Incidentally, don't get used to me shopping for you. This is a once in a lifetime deal. I hope you don't mind me saying I plan never to go into a mall with you again."

"Understood," Creek said. "I hope you don't mind me saying I share the sentiment."

"Good to have that out of the way, then," Robin said, then looked at the invitation again. "But you have a dress uniform, right? Back at home? You're a veteran."

"I am," Creek said. "I do. But I don't think I've put it on since I got out."

Robin smiled and waved airily, signifying the cruise. "You mean you've never done one of these before? Or even just a parade on Veteran's Day?"

"I'm not much for a parade," Creek said.

"I'm getting that from you," Robin said. "That whole loner" vibe."

"It's not that," Creek said. "Well, it is. But it's also that the best thing about my military service is that it's over. I put away the uniform because I was done with it."

"Are you going to be okay with this cruise?" Robin asked. "Because I get the feeling the rest of these guys aren't done with it yet. It's kind of why they're here."

"I'll be fine," Creek said. "I'm a loner by inclination but it doesn't mean I can't fake sociability."

"There's my trooper," Robin said. "I bet you're going to be the only guy there not in uniform, though. Just you wait and see."

"What, no uniform?" asked the bald man at table 17, as Creek and Robin took their seats.

"Our luggage got sent to Bermuda," Creek said, sitting.

"Boy, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that excuse," the bald man said, and held out his hand. "Chuck Grade, and this is my wife Evelyn."

"Hiroki Toshima," Creek said, taking it.

"Come again?" Gracie said.

"Adopted," Creek said.

"Ah," Gracie said.

"And this is my fiancee, Debbie," Creek said, pointing to Robin.

"Well! Congratulations to you two," Evelyn Gracie said.

"Thanks," Robin said. "It was quite sudden."

"Well, you'll have to tell us all about it," Evelyn said. "I love a good engagement story."

"We met in a mall," Robin said, deadpan. "We ran into each other. There were parcels everywhere."

Before she could go on two other couples arrived and introduced themselves: James Grower and his wife Jackie, and Ned and Denice Leff. As handshakes were offered all around, one final couple arrived: Chris Lopez and her companion Eric Woods. This precipitated another wave of handshakes and Creek explaining that he was adopted. A waiter came by and filled wine glasses.

"Now that we're all here," Grade said, "are there any officers at the table?" Everyone shook their heads. "Good!" Grade said. "Then this is a salute-free zone. I say we get drunk and eat like pigs through the entire cruise."

Next to Grade, Evelyn rolled her eyes and smacked her husband on the arm. "Settle down, Chuck," she said. "This is your commanding officer speaking."

"Yes, ma'am," Grade said, and grinned at his tablemates. "You can see who's in charge here."

"I hear the captain of the Neverland is a veteran of Pajmhi," Chris Lopez said. "Does anyone know if that's true?"

"I can answer that," Ned Leff said. "It's true. He was a Marine lander jockey there. It's one of the reasons we picked the Neverland for this cruise."

"That and it's cheap," Grade said.

"That doesn't hurt," Leff admitted. "But there were cheaper. I was on the steering committee for this cruise. Captain Lehane came to us and made the pitch for his ship. It sealed the deal. He was a hell of a pilot at Pajmhi, you know. His lander took a direct hit and he still managed to get it and his squad back to their ship."

"And now he's ferrying around tourists," James Crower said.

"Nothing wrong with that," Lopez said. "He did his tour like all of us."

"I'm not criticizing," Crower said. "Hell, I'm envious. I was a hopper jockey myself. Now I sell carpet. I'd trade."

"I'm in the market for carpet," Grade said.

"Then this is a lucky a day for one of us," Crower said.

"Speak of the devil," Leff said, and pointed toward the front of the room. "It looks like Captain Lehane is going to say something."

Creek craned his head and saw a youngish man in a white dress uniform—the uniform of the Haysbert-American line—standing and banging a fork lightly against a wine goblet. The room, full of chatter, settled down quickly.

"Fellow veterans," Lehane said. "Soldiers, marines, midshipmen, and yes, even officers"—this got a laugh—"I welcome you to the Neverland." This line brought applause; Lehane smiled and let it go on for a few seconds and then held up his hand to settle it back down.

"All of us are here for a reason," he said.

"To drink!" someone yelled from the back. The crowd roared.

Lehane smiled again. "All right, two reasons. The other reason is to honor our friends and comrades who fell on the field at Pajmhi. More than a decade has passed since we—some of us barely out of high school—fought and died in the largest commitment of human armed forces since our planet joined the Common Confederation. In that time, many things have been said about the Battle of Pajmhi. Many things have been said against it. But not once has anyone doubted the courage of the men and women who fought and died there. We above all people know this truth, and of the brotherhood and sisterhood formed between us in that fight, that exists now among those of us who lived, and that calls us to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their planet and their fellow soldier." He raised his goblet. "To our brothers and sisters."

"To our brothers and sisters," came back to him from every table. Everyone drank.

"As you know," Lehane continued, "Chagfun is a special port of call for this journey of the Neverland, and we have arranged for a memorial ceremony on the plain of Pajmhi. I hope to see each of you there. Before and after that, of course, you'll be able to enjoy yourselves at all our usual ports of call, and with the Neverland's onboard activities. Because as my friend at the back of the room noted, while we remember our compatriots, there's nothing wrong with having fun as well. So for the crew of the Neverland, again, welcome, and enjoy yourselves. Thank you." He sat at his table to applause. Waiters came out from the sides of the room to begin delivering salads.

"That was well done," Grade said.

"Told you he was good," Leff said.

"How are we going to have a ceremony on the plain of Pajmhi?" Lopez said. "I thought those Nidu planet crackers wiped it off the face of the planet."

"Yes and no," Leff said, and leaned back to let the waiter deliver his salad. "The plain is still there. The only difference is now it's under about one hundred meters of freshly laid rock. That's from the lava flow after the bomb went off. Our ceremony is going to take place in one of the cooler parts of the rock flow."

"You mean there are still warm parts?" Crower said.

"Oh, yes," Leff said. "There's a volcano built up now where the south part of the plain used to be. It's still spewing lava. We're going to be on the north side of the plain."

"Goddamn Nidu," Grade said, and jabbed at his salad.

"Chuck," Evelyn warned.

"Sony, sweetie," Gracie said, then looked ground the table. "But you all know what I'm talking about."

Robin held up her hand. "Hi," she said. "Actually, I don't. What do the Nidu have to do with this battle?"

Gracie looked at Robin, chewed thoughtfully on his salad, and then looked over to Creek. "You didn't tell her anything about it?"

"The relationship is still pretty new," Creek said.

"We're still picking up the parcels," Robin said.

Gracie looked around. "Anyone mind if I give a brief review?" When no one complained, he continued. "The short story is that the planet Chagfun is a Nidu colony, and about twenty years ago, the Chagfun natives started getting uppity. For about six, seven of those years, it was small-scale terrorist stuff—homemade bombs, exploding markets, assassination attempts. Nothing the Nidu can't handle on their own. But then something happened that made the Nidu sit up: The local Nidu military commanders took the side of the Chagfun natives and took their weapons with them. Which is something that's absolutely not supposed to happen."

"Why not?" Robin said.

"It's because of the Nidu hierarchy," Leff said, cutting in. "The Nidu are a caste-bound culture, grouped in clans that are incredibly suspicious of each other. The current ruling clan keeps control of everything—and I do mean everything—through a computer network. Every single piece of military and government equipment is tied into the network, right down the rifles the Nidu issue to their infantry. The power structure is top down, so commanding officers have control over every decision that gets made. It goes right up to the top. If the leader of the Nidu wanted, he could make a specific rifle on a battlefield stop working, just by ordering it."

"What happens if the soldier gets cut off from the network?" Robin asked.

"His rifle stops working," Leff said. "Or his transport, or his ship, whatever. It's the way the Nidu hierarchy keeps control."

"Except that in this case," Grade said, stealing back the conversational ball, "somehow the local commanders appeared to disengage themselves from the Nidu network and keep their rifles working. And their ships. So they take them offline and Chagfun declares itself independent. Nidu declares war—"

"—and because Earth signed a mutual defense treaty, we get dragged into it," Lopez said. "And we end up fighting Nidu's civil war for them."

"Not that our Defense Department was complaining," Crower said.

"No, not at all," Gracie said. "Defense was looking to show off Earth military readiness. So we do a joint military operation with the Nidu, and because it's Nidu's party, they're in charge of the show. There's just one problem."

Robin waited for a minute for Grade to continue, but he was clearly enjoying his dramatic pause. Finally, Robin said, "Yes? And the problem was what?"

Gracie opened his mouth to speak but Leff got there first. "The problem was that the Chagfun rebels weren't actually disconnected from the Nidu network. They'd stopped the Nidu leadership from commanding their equipment, but they could still eavesdrop on the network."

"So they knew every move the Nidu were going to have us make," Gracie said. He stuffed more salad into his mouth.

"That's bad," Robin said.

"It was very bad," Lopez said. "We landed 100,000 troops on the plain of Pajmhi because Nidu intelligence told us it was an ideal staging area. It was supposed to be away from the main concentrations of rebel troops, with sympathetic civilians in the local towns who wouldn't cause us any trouble. But the rebels knew we were coming and were ready for us. They hit us while we were still getting organized. There was no way we could mount an effective defense."

"It was a real clusterfuck," Gracie said.

"Chuck," Evelyn Gracie said.

"Your husband's right, Mrs. Gracie," Lopez said. "There were 23,000 killed and about that number wounded. When half of your troops are casualties, clusterfuck is the right term for it."

"Thank you, Lopez," Gracie said, and pointed to one of the ribbon bars on his uniform with his salad fork. "I got shot at Pajmhi; took a slug in the leg. Damn near tore the leg clean off. I figure I can use the term clusterfuck if I want,"

"So what happened?" Robin said.

"Well, after a couple of Chagfun days, which are, what? Thirty hours long?" Gracie looked over to Leff.

"Thirty-one hours, seven minutes," Leff said.

"That long," Gracie said, pointing to Leff. "We managed to get our troops out of there, and told the Nidu to take care of their own damn messes. And they did."

"They dropped the bomb on Pajmhi," Crower said. "One of their planet crackers. It's a bomb that blasts down into the skin of a planet. Weakens the crust and lets the molten rock come through."

"It's like making a goddamn volcanic explosion, is what it is," Gracie said. "The Nidu dropped the bomb smack down into the plain of Pajmhi. Wiped out every living thing for a couple hundred kilometers around, including all those towns and villages."

"That was before the eruptions blew enough dust into the air to cool down the planet," Leff said. "Chagfun had its own mini-ice age that winter. Colonists froze and starved. The Nidu had a blockade of the planet. No one would run it."

"Why didn't the CC do anything about it?" Robin asked.

"Internal matter," Lopez said. "The CC only gets involved if one of its nations attacks another. It stays out of civil wars."

"So the CC let all those people die," Robin said.

"Basically," Lopez said. She forked the last of her salad.

"But it worked," Gracie said, bringing the conversation around to him again. "The Chagfun rebels surrendered to keep their families from starving and dying anymore. The Nidu swept in and took control and as far as I can recall executed every single rebel fighter. So through incompetence and ruthlessness, the Nidu ended up killing tens of thousands of humans, executing tens of thousands of surrendered combatants, and starving and freezing hundreds of thousands of their own people. And now you know why I say, 'Goddamn Nidu.'" This time Evelyn Gracie said nothing to her husband. The waiters came to take away the salad bowls.

"But enough of this depressing subject," Gracie said. He reached into his uniform and pulled out a small camera. "I have a favor to ask. As the duly appointed representative of my regiment on this trip, it has fallen to me to be annoying and take pictures of every little thing to send back for the regiment newsletter. So I hope you won't mind all crowding together for a quick photo. Evelyn, sweetie, if you wouldn't mind." He handed the camera to his wife, who got up from the table to frame the photo. The others at the table crowded around Grade; Creek and Robin edged themselves away from the group, not at all interested in having themselves photographed.

"Hiroki, Debbie," Gracie said. "Squeeze in."

"I don't have a uniform," Creek said.

"Hell, man, I was just ribbing you about the uniform," Gracie said.

"It's okay. I'll sit this one out," Creek said.

Gracie shrugged and looked over to Evelyn, who was framing the picture "Go ahead, honey," he said.

Evelyn Gracie thought Hiroki and his nice young fiancee were simply being shy, and also a little silly. She pressed a button on the back of the camera to flip the framing choice from Normal to Panoramic, bringing the stubborn couples' profiles just into frame. She snapped the picture and handed it back to her husband. "Thank you, dear," he said.

"You said 'regiment,'" said Grower, to Gracie, as the waiters handed down the main course of vatted prime rib. "Were you in cavalry?"

"Better," Gracie said "Ranger. 75th Regiment, 2nd Battalion. Fort Benning, Georgia. The 75th has been around since the 1900s, which is a hell of a bit of continuity. I'm not the only member of the 75th here—I know a couple of guys from the 1st and 3rd Battalions are here, too. But they're making me take all the pictures. You were cavalry, right?"

"3rd Armored, Tiger Squadron, Crazy Horse Troop," Crower said. "Out of Tennessee."

"A fine state," Gracie allowed. "What about you, Lopez?"

"46th Infantry, 146th Forward Support Battalion," Lopez said. "The Wolf Pack. Michigan."

"3rd Batallion, 7th Marines," Leff said. "California. The Cutting Edge."

"What about you, Hiroki?"

Creek looked up from his food. "12th Infantry. 6th Battalion."

There was dead silence at the table for several seconds. "Holy Christ, man," Gracie said, finally.

"Yeah," Creek said. He sliced off some prime rib and put it in his mouth.

"How many of you got out of there?" Lopez asked.

Creek swallowed. "From 6th Battalion?" Lopez nodded. "Twenty-six."

"From full battalion strength," Leff said. "The whole thousand soldiers."

"That's right," Creek said.

"Jesus," Leff said.

"Yeah," Creek said.

"I heard one of your guys got the Medal of Honor," Gracie said. "Held off the rebels for two days and saved his squad."

"He held off the rebels," Creek said. "He didn't get the Medal of Honor."

"Why the hell not?" Gracie said.

"He didn't save his entire squad," Creek said.

"He must have been pissed not to get it," Crower said.

"He was more upset about not saving the man he lost," Creek said.

"Did you know the guy?" Lopez asked. "Who was he?"

"Harry Creek," Creek said. "I knew him."

"Where is he now?" Lopez asked.

"He became a shepherd," Creek said.

Grade laughed. "You're not serious," he said.

"Actually, I am," Creek said.

"And is he any good at it?" Grade asked.

"I don't know," Creek said, and glanced over at Robin. "You'd have to ask the sheep."

Creek disappeared after dinner; Robin went looking for him after a couple of hours and found him on the Promenade Deck, staring out into space. "Hey," she said.

Creek turned to look at her and then turned back to look out at the stars. "Sorry about ducking out," he said. "Dinner dredged up a few things."

"Were they true?" Robin said. "The things you said about your battalion. About the Medal of Honor."

Creek nodded. "They're true. My battalion was right where the Chagfun rebels had massed their main troops. We got hit before we knew what was happening. My squad managed to break out and head for cover but we were ambushed."

"But you fought them off," Robin said. "You saved your squad."

"I saved most of my squad," Creek said. "My best friend died. He'd gotten excited and went after a squad of rebels, and our squad followed him into an ambush. We fought it back but took heavy casualties. The rest of the 6th was already wiped out or fighting for their lives so we were on our own for two days. At the end of it Brian was dead. I carried his body off the plain, but that's all I could do for him."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Robin said.

"It's all right," Creek said. "I just wish I had been able to save him."

"One of the things I'm learning about you is that you have an overdeveloped sense of personal obligation," Robin said. "I mean, I like it. It's kept me alive over the last couple of days. But it makes me worry about you."

"You're worried about me," Creek said.

"Don't mock me," Robin warned. "I may be half-sheep but you know I can throw a punch."

"I'm not mocking you," Creek said. "I appreciate it. And you're only twenty percent sheep."

"Details," Robin said.

Behind them someone cleared his throat. Creek turned and saw Ned Leff standing there. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said. "I saw you here and I thought I'd come over."

"We're just looking at the stars," Creek said.

"Waiting for the jump?" Leff said. "We'll be jumping into n-space in a few minutes. It's usually quite a sight."

"Now that you mention it, yes," Creek said. "That's exactly what we were doing. How can I help you, Ned?"

"I was hoping I could impose on your good will," Leff said. "You know there's going to be a memorial ceremony on the Pajmhi plain, and one of the things we're planning is to have one member of each service arm lay a wreath on a memorial we're bringing. Thing is, the vet we had representing the Army missed the cruise. Got into a crack-up on the way to the spaceport. Wrecked his car and broke a leg. He's all right, but he had to get his leg fixed before anything else. So we're down one serviceman. I was hoping I could get you to replace him."

"Thanks," Creek said. "But I don't really—"

Leff held up a hand. "I get the feeling you're a modest man, and I can understand that," he said. "But I think it would be especially inspiring for the other vets to see a member of the 6th up there, laying a wreath."

"I don't even have my dress uniform," Creek said. "My luggage got shipped to Bermuda."

"You let me worry about that," Leff said. "Just tell me you'll do it."

"When is the ceremony?" Creek said.

"We stop at Caledonia Colony tomorrow, and after that Brjnn, and then we do our stop at Chagfun," Leff said. "So a week from now. More than enough time for you to prepare, if that's what you're thinking about."

"A week would be perfect," Creek said. A week would be after the time the Nidu coronation ceremony was supposed to go off; Creek had no doubt that by that time Ben Javna would have resumed contact or otherwise tracked him down- Either he and Robin would already be off the Neverland, or he could risk standing at a podium with a wreath.

"Great," Leff said, and shook Creek's hand. "When I see you at dinner tomorrow I'll have more details for you. Until then, have a great night." He looked down at his watch. "And look at that—we're done just in time for you to watch the jump. I won't intrude any further. Enjoy it." He left.

"He seems pretty excited about the jump," Robin said, after Leff walked off.

"You've never seen one?" Creek said.

"I've never been off Earth before," Robin said. "This is all new to me. Why?"

"Well, just watch and see," Creek said.

Robin looked out at the stars. "What am I looking for?"

Every star in the sky suddenly twitched and smeared, as if each had been a sphere of iridescent and incandescent paint suddenly pressed into two dimensions by a universally large pane of glass. The light from each flattened sphere swirled with the light of the others, dancing prismatically and producing unexpected streaks of color until the whole sky settled into flat gray that nevertheless seemed to seethe and threaten to erupt with another show of pigment and flash.

"Oh. Wow," Robin said.

"That's what everybody says," Creek said.

"There's a reason for that," Robin said.

"Well, not everybody," Creek said. "Some species don't have color perception like we do. Some races of the CC don't even see."

"That's a shame," Robin said. "They're missing out. Sometimes it's good to be human."

Judge Bufan Nigun Sn yanked at one of his antennae as if in irritation, spidered his legs around his stool, set his cup of coffee on his desk, and pulled out his communicator module from a drawer. "Being we're on Earth, we'll have this conversation in English," the module said, lowering the high-pitched scrapings coming from Sn's mouthparts into the human and Nidu sonic range. "Does the Nidu representative have a problem with this?"

"Not at all," said Quua-win-Getag, General Counsel for Nidu's embassy to the United Nations of Earth.

"And I assume you're fine with it, Mr. Javna," Judge Sn said.

"Yes, your honor," Ben Javna said.

"Good," Sn said. "Given the extraordinary time constraints involved in this case, I have agreed to this in camera session and will render a decision by the end of this session. While the decision can of course be appealed to a high court, the ruling will not be suspended pending appeal. So this means if you're not happy with the ruling, you're shit out of luck. Are we clear?" Both Quua-win-Getag and Javna consented.

"Fine," Sn said. "And now, Counselor win-Getag, you can explain your government's damn fool line of reasoning that says a human citizen of the UNE is somehow equivalent to livestock."

Quua-win-Getag launched into a recap of his government's legal argument while Judge Sn took the lid off his coffee, descended his sucking mouthpiece into the cup, and sipped gingerly. Javna wasn't a knowledgeable student of the Wryg, the species to which Judge Sn belonged; nevertheless he suspected Sn was probably more than a little hung over, which explained why he was snippier today than the average Wryg.

"Fine, fine, fine," Judge Sn eventually said, as Quua-win-Getag began to rehash the particulars of Agnach-u v. Ar-Thaneg for the second time. "I get where you're going with this. Very innovative, counselor. Amoral and repugnant, but innovative."

"Thank you, your honor," Quua-win-Getag said.

Judge Sn glanced over to Javna. "Tell me you've got something to counter this crap," he said.

"Actually," Javna said, "the UNE would like to stipulate the Nidu assertion that Miss Baker is not human, nor a citizen of the UNE."

"What?" said Judge Sn.

"What?" said Quua-win-Getag.

"The UNE stipulates that Miss Baker is not human, nor a citizen of the UNE," Javna said.

"You've got to be kidding," said Judge Sn. "I've never been a big fan of the human race, if you want the truth about it. You people have your heads up your asses most of the time. Even so, your one saving grace is that you fight like mad for the rights of your own people. If this represents the true thought of your government, this planet is more of a toilet than I thought it was. You'd be insane to give up a citizen to these lizards."

"On behalf of my government, I protest those comments," Quua-win-Getag said.

"Quiet, you," Judge Sn said to Quua-win-Getag, then turned his attention back to Javna. "Well?"

"I appreciate your candor in your opinion of the human race," Javna said. "Nevertheless, the UNE stipulates."

"Well, that's just great," said Judge Sn. "Remind me to get working on that request for a new posting as soon as you two clear out of my office."

"If the UNE stipulates our points, then the entity is indeed our property, and the UNE must present it to us at the earliest opportunity," Quua-win-Getag said, to Judge Sn. "Nidu asks you to rule such."

"And I assume you're perfectly fine with that, too," Judge Sn said to Javna.

"We are not," Javna said. "And in fact we request that you dismiss the case on the grounds that the Nidu have no standing to bring the suit in the first place."

"That's ridiculous," Quua-win-Getag said. "The UNE already stipulated that the entity is Nidu property."

"We stipulated that she is not human and not a UNE citizen," Javna said. "Which is not the same as saying she's your property."

"I'm getting a headache," Judge Sn said. "Explain yourself, counselor. Be quick and clear."

"There's no point arguing that Miss Baker is human. She's not—she's a hybrid entity and an entirely new species," Javna said. "But she's more than a new species, she's a new sentient species. The Common Confederation automatically confers special rights on the individuals of newly discovered sentient species to protect them from exploitation by other races. It's one of the fundamental tenets of the Common Confederation, and in the Confederation's charter, which every nation must agree to upon entering the CC. Furthermore, the Common Confederation holds each sentient species en masse to be sovereign—again, to prevent their exploitation by other races. It's up to the chosen governments of those species to enter into treaties and agreements on behalf of its people. This is all well established."

"Go on," Judge Sn said.

"Given these facts, Miss Baker's rights as a new sentient species tramp Nidu's claim to her as property," Javna said. "Likewise, any treaties that the Earth may have entered into with Nidu are irrelevant regarding the disposition of Miss Baker. She is de facto the governing body of her species, sovereign into her own self, and therefore only she is able to enter into treaties and agreements concerning herself. The UNE recognizes this and relinquishes any claim it has regarding citizenship pending Miss Baker's own decision to ally her nation to ours. As Miss Baker is sovereign, Nidu has no standing to demand the UNE present her. As Miss Baker is a new sentient species, Nidu has no standing to claim her as property. Basically, Nidu has no standing to bring these suits."

Judge Sn turned to Quua-win-Getag. "And what do you say to that, counselor?"

Quua-win-Getag blinked hard; he had expected and prepared for Javna to fight for Baker's citizenship; he was entirely taken aback by this legal tack. "It's an interesting theory," Quua-win-Getag said, drawing out his words for effect and to give himself more time to think. "But it's not proven that the entity is in fact an entirely new sentient species."

"Really, now," Judge Sn said. "Which part are you disputing? The 'sentient' part or the 'species' part?"

"Both," Quua-win-Getag said. "Neither has been proven."

"Oh, come on," Javna said. "Miss Baker attended college and owns her own business. I'm pretty sure that qualifies her as sentient."

"Agreed," Judge Sn said. "And as for the species part, Counselor win-Getag, your colleague here has already stipulated your own assertion that Miss Baker is not human. In order for her not to be a new species, I think you would have to assert she is entirely livestock. I don't think even the Nidu are prepared to go that far."

"It may not have all the hallmarks of speciation," Quua-win-Getag said, thinking furiously now. "Species have to be able to pass on their characteristics to their offspring, and it's not been proven the entity can do that."

"Are you suggesting we knock up the young lady to prove her status?" said Judge Sn. "I don't think we have the time for that."

"For another thing!" Quua-win-Getag said, a little breathlessly. "The entity was genetically engineered from previously known species. Every previously known new sentient species occurred through the natural processes of evolution and not from previously known species."

"Meaning?" Judge Sn prompted.

"Meaning that genetically engineered entities are not selected for speciation by the processes of evolution," Quua-win-Getag said. "Therefore they cannot be considered true species. The entity is a one-off, unlikely to be reproduced. If she is not truly a new species and the UNE stipulates that she is not human, then legally speaking, she is livestock. And as her species of sheep is already well-known and its characteristics well-noted, the question of her sentience becomes a moot point. She is, legally, Nidu property."

"Fascinating," Judge Sn. "You're so ready to ignore the fact she's obviously sentient."

"It's not my fault the UNE has stipulated she's not human," Quua-win-Getag said. "Everything follows from its capitulation on that point of fact."

"Counselor Javna," Judge Sn said. "You're up."

Javna smiled. Quua-win-Getag didn't know it, but he'd just maneuvered the case right where Javna wanted it. "Your honor, we grant that all previous examples of sentient species occurred through the natural processes of evolution. But rather than suggest that this limits your honor to rulings based on previous standards, allow me to suggest that this offers another option."

"Which is?" said Judge Sn. "To make new law," Javna said.

Judge Sn's antennae shot straight up. "What did you say, counselor?" Judge Sn asked.

"Make new law, your honor," Javna said. "The question of the disposition of artificially created sentient species has never come up before in the history of the Common Confederation. Agnach-u v. Ar-Thaneg came close but the ruling didn't address issues related to sentience, merely property. This is virgin territory, your honor, and an issue that goes straight to the heart of the mission of the Common Confederation. Indeed, your honor, there may be no more important issue."

Judge Sn sat there, stock still, for nearly a full minute, mouthpieces moving in tiny little circles. Javna glanced over at Quua-win-Getag, who stared straight ahead at the judge. Javna could hear him grinding his teeth. He knew he'd been outmaneuvered by his human counterpart, who had dangled in front of the judge the one thing that would be utterly irresistible: The opportunity to make new law. In a legal system tens of thousands of years old, there was almost nothing new in the law, merely ever-more-finely parsed restatings of the law as it existed. Offering an ambitious judge the chance to make new law—indeed create an entire new branch off the tree of law—and thus win instant fame and glory in the CC judicial circles was like offering a lamed baby ibex to a starving leopard.

"Okay, I'm ready to rule," Judge Sn said.

"I hope your honor will not take this opportunity to overstep the parameters of your responsibilities," Quua-win-Getag said.

"Excuse me?" Judge Sn said. "You show up in my courtroom with a petition to turn a citizen of a member of the Common Confederation into a meat animal, and you warn me about overreaching? Good fucking gravy. You're in contempt, counselor. You can pay your thousand CC credits on the way out the door. Now shut the hell up. You're the dipshit who brought the suit and demanded it get ruled on today, so now you're going to get a ruling."

"Yes, your honor," Quua-win-Getag said. "My apologies." Javna tried very hard not to smile.

"Damn right," Judge Sn said. "First, regarding the nature of Miss Robin Baker, the court finds that she does, in fact, represent an entirely new species of sentient being. How this species came into being is irrelevant in light of the fact that it is sentient, and as such has sovereign protections under the Common Confederation charter. Likewise as an individual Miss Baker is afforded certain protections under the CC charter.

"As the UNE has disavowed claim to Miss Baker as a citizen, the Nidu suit to have her citizenship revoked is moot and therefore dismissed. As Miss Baker is sovereign, the Nidu suit to compel the UNE to produce Miss Baker is likewise dismissed. I'll also note, Counselor win-Getag, that if Nidu further attempts to breach its treaties with the UNE on this issue, it will be held to be the defaulting party and as such will be subject to penalties, both financial and diplomatic. If the Nidu want a war with the Earth, you're not getting any cover for it from the CC. Are we clear on this, Counselor?"

"Yes, your honor," Quua-win-Getag said.

"Good," Judge Sn said. "Then we're done here. The ruling will be published on the court's site within the hour."

"You will have our appeal by the end of the day," Quua-win-Getag said.

"Of course I will," said Judge Sn. "I'd be deeply disappointed if I didn't. Now get out. Making new law has made me hungry. I'm going to get a snack." He exited to find the court's vending machines.

"Very tricky, counselor," Quua-win-Getag said, after Judge Sn left. "Although I don't expect the ruling to make it past appeal."

Javna shrugged. "Maybe it will, maybe it won't. But by that time, this little crisis of ours is going to be resolved one way or another."

"Indeed," Quua-win-Getag said. "Still, I'd like to know how you came up with that line of reasoning."

"You can thank a rabbi," Javna said. "And a hot dog."

On the Neverland, Chuck Gracie sat on his bunk, flipping through pictures in his camera while Evelyn dozed beside him. Most of the pictures were of Evelyn or Evelyn and Gracie together while Gracie held out the camera at arm's length. Chuck Gracie was one of those people who was of the opinion there was nothing wrong with any scenery that the presence of himself, his wife, or both couldn't fix. Unfortunately, this fetish made it difficult to find suitable pictures for the regiment newsletter; after previous experiences with Gracie as photo journalist, Dale Turley, the editor of the newsletter, gently suggested to Gracie that he should submit more pictures that didn't have so much of that Chuck Gracie feel to them.

Here we go, Gracie thought. He'd just clicked on to the picture from the dinner table. True, Gracie was in it, but he was flanked by six other people, plus Hiroki and his fiancee over there in the corner. As an overall percentage, the picture was just 11% Chuck Gracie, which he figured was an acceptable amount for Turley (or Turdley, as Gracie mentally thought of him since the initial "less Gracie" photographic suggestion). Gracie transferred the picture to his communicator, typed a note identifying the people in the picture, and sent both off. Grade's communicator synced with the Neverland's internal network; the network dropped the note and picture into the final burst of data sent out by the Neverland prior to its jump into n-space and thence to Caledonia colony.

About an hour later, the picture and text dropped into the mail queue of Dale Turley, who was putting the finishing touches on this week's regiment newsletter. Dale opened the mail and, pleased that the overall Chuck Gracie ratio in the picture was indeed low, slapped it into the newsletter at the bottom, typed in the names and location for the picture caption, and then dropped the newsletter into the distribution queue. There it would be printed out for current members of the regiment at their various bases across the U.S., and distributed in electronic form to former and/or veteran members of the 75th Ranger regiment, a host of several thousand ex-rangers, including one Rod Acuna.

"Fuck me running," Acuna said to himself, as the newsletter and the picture popped up on his communicator. He cleared the newsletter from his communicator screen and punched in Jean Schroeder's access code. Their lost lamb had been found.