Mark entered the enclosure and squirmed to Yerby's side. Yerby clapped his shoulder with numbing cheerfulness. Seconds later, a stentorian bailiff roared, "Court of Common Pleas of the New Paris District is now in session! Judge Reesa Maglaglen presiding!"

Judge Maglaglen, a small woman in scarlet robes, entered from behind the bench and took the middle of the three seats. She'd be sitting alone during this preliminary hearing for the presentation of documentary evidence and motions.

Maglaglen's eyes swept the courtroom, pausing for a moment on the defendants' enclosure. Mark had seen more pleasant expressions on a tangle of razor wire.

"I'll now accept documentary evidence relating to the case of Biber et alia against Wately et alia, an action in ejectment," Maglaglen said. "Counsel for the plaintiffs may come forward."

The procedure was a lot more abrupt than what Mark was used to on Quelhagen, but that didn't mean it was unfair. Or does it? he wondered.

Biber and Finch approached the bench with an usher. The two principals didn't look at one another. The usher between them handed a set of recording chips to the bailiff and said, "Your Honor, the plaintiffs wish to place in evidence true copies of grants made by Protectors LaCoque, Manering, and Giscard during their terms as Protectors of Zenith."

"Accepted for verification by the Public Record Office," Maglaglen said. "Counsel for the defense, if you have any documentary evidence to offer you may come forward."

Elector Daniels stepped forward. Finch smirked at him as the plaintiffs returned to their enclosure. "Your Honor," Daniels said, "the defendants wish to place in evidence true copies of grants validly issued by Protector Greenwood of Hestia."

Daniels held out a chip case. The bailiff ostentatiously refused to accept it.

Judge Maglaglen said, "As the world commonly termed Greenwood was never subject to the control of the Protectors of Hestia, such material has no bearing on the matter at issue. I therefore refuse to accept it. Do the defendants offer any other documentary evidence supporting their right to possession?"

"Your Honor, I protest!" Daniels said. He looked genuinely outraged. "The Protector of Hestia was acting under at least color of the authority of his office in-"

Instead of raising a gavel in the traditional style still followed on Quelhagen, the judge touched a button. A gong rang in the ceiling of the courtroom. When the metallic note had quavered to silence, Maglaglen said, "As defendants offer no evidence to support their claims, I find for plaintiffs."

Her bitter face swept the room. "Plaintiffs' counsel," she continued, "will provide an order for my execution as soon as the plaintiffs' grants have been verified by the relevant authorities."

She rang the gong again.

"What is this?" Yerby Bannock said. He stepped forward.

One of the junior counsel put a hand on his arm. Yerby brushed the man aside like a fly. "What the hell is this?"

"Defendant, you're out of order!" the judge said, her voice rising with each word as if she were reciting a musical scale. Bailiffs and ushers were converging from all points in the courtroom.

Yerby took another step. He missed the enclosure's opening and smashed the rail into shards of plastic with a quick jerk of his arm.

Elector Daniels and the bailiff before the bench stopped in the middle of their strides toward the frontiersman. Judge Maglaglen hunched down, ready to bolt like a fuzzy red bunny. Mark stumbled on the bottom of the barrier's framework as he followed Yerby.

He didn't think about what he was doing. He was afraid to think, and anyway, this didn't seem to be the time for it.

"Oh, don't get your bowels in an uproar!" Yerby said. "I'm not going to hurt any of you delicate flowers."

The frontiersman turned and looked slowly around the whole courtroom. He seemed surprised to see Mark jumping out of the way beside him, but he put his arm around the smaller man. "All right, you lot!" he said. "It may be that on Zenith the sun rises in the west and there's no human justice. But I tell you-"

He turned slowly to face the bench again. The bailiff leaped back so suddenly that he fell over. Daniels had already eased himself toward the aisle, trying not to come too close to Yerby. Even the other Greenwood defendants stood uneasily within the enclosure. Nobody but Mark was within ten feet of the big frontiersman.

"I tell you," Yerby repeated. "If any of you fine folk come to Greenwood, I think you'll learn that the sun there still rises in the usual place."

He spun and marched down the aisle.

"Hey, wait for me, Yerby!" black-bearded Holgar Emmreich cried, scrambling to follow. All the Greenwoods fell in with a haste just this side of panic. What they were probably afraid of was the whole unfamiliar situation, not what the bailiffs or municipal police were going to do because of the outburst. They followed their leader because that was a lot easier than thinking for themselves.

Mark paused where he stood. Thinking wasn't doing him a bit of good. Spectators in dazzling clothes swirled out of the Greenwoods' way, then swirled back, chirping and gabbling. It was like watching a windstorm in a parrot cage.

Amy no longer sat where she had been. Mark thought of searching for her, but the chances were she was coming down to join him. His best choice was to stay put. If they both wandered around in this brilliant chaos, they'd never find each other.

"Mark," said a familiar voice, "your counsel and I have never been formally introduced. Will you do the honors?"

Mark looked at the speaker, a slim, gray-haired man. He wore brown Quelhagen formalwear, so he'd been lost in the clouds of color.

"Hi, Dad," Mark said. He cleared his throat and added, "I didn't expect to see you here."

And boy! was that ever the truth.

15. Fallback Positions

"There aren't so many interplanetary attorneys that news of my son appearing as defendant on Zenith wasn't going to reach me, Mark," Lucius Maxwell said. "Now, will you introduce us? Because I have business to discuss with your counsel."

"Elector Daniels, allow me to present my father, Mr. Lucius Maxwell," Mark said. He bowed to each party as he spoke his name. "Dad is…"

"An attorney of note," Daniels said, voicing the words that Mark had smothered because he hadn't wanted to sound like he was bragging. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. Though there wasn't a great deal of law to be seen here today."

He glared balefully at the judge's bench, now empty.

"Zenith law," Lucius said with a cool smile. "Which one might compare to Zenith art-flashy, with very little at the core."

His tone changed as he went on. "What do you intend to do now? Appeal?"

Amy appeared through the crowd. She would have stayed apart from the three men if Mark hadn't motioned her closer.

Daniels nodded. "Yes, of course," he said, "though I don't know that we have much chance."

"If you mean to appeal to the Council of State under Zenith procedure," Lucius said, "you have no chance whatever. Vice-Protector Finch sits as president of the council, and half his fellow-councillors have shares in the Greenwood grants at issue."

Lucius spoke crisply, stating facts with no perceived possibility of argument. Mark had heard that cold tone often enough. He swayed closer to Amy.

"If you're empowered by your principals to associate additional counsel-" Lucius continued. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Yes, of course," Daniels said. "Goodness, I hope you don't think these hicks have anything to do with planning the defense!"

Lucius exchanged glances with Mark. Daniels had the decency to look embarrassed and the sense not to try to unsay the words he'd already blurted.