“Ms. Meyer said it,” Holloway said. “Only ZaraCorp employees and contractors are allowed on-planet. Anytime you want to change that, you let me know. Until then, that’s your cost to sink.” “That’s not exactly an equitable division of cost,” Landon began.

“Half the gross or nothing,” Holloway said, cutting him off. “That’s the deal. Take it or don’t.” Landon looked at Aubrey, who nodded imperceptibly. “Done,” Landon said.

“Good, everyone’s happy,” Soltan said, and stood up. “Now please leave. I have some other issues to attend to.” She opened the door to her small private lavatory and disappeared into it.

Aubrey looked over at Bourne, sitting in one of the clerks’ chairs. “Little worm,” he said. “You will never work again. I promise that.” Bourne returned the stare. “Yes, well,” he said. “Your lawyer was already working on that out there, wasn’t she? The only difference between now and then is that deciding to screw up my career and my life just cost you six hundred billion credits. Hope it was worth it, you arrogant prick.” He stood up and left the room.

*

“Name and occupation,” Soltan said.

“Mark Sullivan,” Sullivan said. “I’m a lawyer. Currently between jobs.”

“Mr. Sullivan, on the day Mr. Holloway came to visit you, did you receive visitors?” Soltan asked.

“Aside from Mr. Holloway, you mean,” Sullivan said.

“Yes,” Soltan said.

“I had two,” Sullivan said. “Three if you count Jack’s dog. Besides Jack and the dog, there was Isabel Wangai, who is a mutual friend of ours. And then Jack briefly had a visit from Chad Bourne.” “Do you know what they spoke about?” Soltan asked.

“No,” Sullivan said. “They were talking quietly, and Jack did not discuss it with me afterwards. Then Isabel arrived and we talked of other things.” Soltan looked at Meyer. “Any questions?”

“No, Your Honor,” Meyer said. “We will still be supplying witnesses who will testify to Mr. DeLise’s whereabouts on the day of question. All we’ve done here is clear Mr. Bourne of any involvement.” “I would guess he’d say that was enough,” Soltan said. “Mr. Sullivan, you may step down. My clerk will take you back to the beanstalk terminal.” “If I may, I’d like to stay,” Sullivan said. “My transport doesn’t leave for twelve hours.” “Your choice,” Soltan said. “Now, Mr. Holloway. Your second piece of evidence, please.”

Chapter Twenty-three

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Holloway said. “Now, as Ms. Meyer has astutely noted, the last piece of evidence showed only that arson had occurred. It did not identify the man who landed at my compound, beat and killed those fuzzys, and in the process of doing so managed to set fire to my cabin. The man in question was careful to conceal his identity, whether or not he knew the security camera was there. He wore a ski mask. He wore gloves. He wore common boots sold in the general store to thousands of ZaraCorp workers and contract surveyors. He quite intentionally intended to evade identification.

“But,” Holloway said, “then something happened the man didn’t intend.” Holloway queued up a shorter excerpt from the previous video. It was of the man suddenly getting a faceful of Pinto.

“The man clearly did not intend to get the crap beat out of him by a fuzzy,” Holloway said. “Look how he’s taken by surprise, completely unprepared to deal with a small creature bent on tearing off his nose and popping out his eyes.” Holloway looked directly at DeLise, who was grinding his teeth. “It must have been some surprise to get schooled so completely by something the size of a cat. Here, let’s look at it again.” “Not unless you have a point to make, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said.

“Quite right, Your Honor,” Holloway said. “And indeed, I do have a point to make.” Holloway played the video once more, this time in slow motion. “Color commentary aside, the fuzzy is doing some very real damage to the man’s face: There are some serious scratches, bites, and cuts going on there. This happened a week ago.” Holloway paused the video mid-gouge and then went to his table and pulled a picture out of his folder and gave it to Soltan. “This is a picture I took of Mr. DeLise three days ago, using a secure camera. You can see how scratched up his face is. In fact”— He pointed to where DeLise was sitting. —“you can still see scratches on his face a week after the attack.” Soltan looked over to Meyer. “I assume you have an alternative theory of the scratches,” Soltan said.

“We do, Your Honor,” Meyer said. She glanced over to DeLise and nodded.

“I got drunk,” DeLise said. “I had too many to drink at Warren’s and on the way home I fell facedown into a bush.” “Congratulations,” Soltan said.

DeLise shrugged. “I’m not proud of it. But that’s the reason,” he said.

“Mr. Holloway?” Soltan said.

“Well, since I know how much Joe likes his drink, normally I’d be perfectly willing to believe him,” Holloway said. He walked back to his table and pulled out a sheet with graphs and text on it. “But there is the little case of the DNA evidence.” Soltan took the sheet, frowning. “The man who set fire to your cabin left DNA,” she said.

“He surely did,” Holloway said. He walked back to the table. “As you might imagine, there was a lot of blood when the man attacked the fuzzys, and the fuzzys attacked back. I had it tested. Most of it was fuzzy blood, of course, considering the gunshots and the vicious physical attack. But enough of it was human.” “Ms. Meyer?” Soltan said.

“The plaintiff is collecting and processing his own DNA evidence, Your Honor?” Meyer asked.

“I’m accusing a ZaraCorp security officer of arson and destruction of property,” Holloway said. “And it’s a small security detail here. I have good reason to doubt that any material collected and processed by them will be compromised. And in point of fact the DNA evidence was collected and processed by the same ZaraCorp biology lab that would process DNA evidence for the security office, not by me. I just eliminated the middleman.” “Was the blood taken from the floor of Mr. Holloway’s compound?” Meyer asked.

Soltan looked at Holloway. “Yes,” he said.

“The compound floor was flooded with fire suppressant,” Meyer said. “The chemicals in the suppressant would dilute and degrade the blood. Any DNA report from that source would be suspect.” “My colleague is absolutely correct,” Holloway said, and noted the slight flare Meyer had at the implication that he was her colleague. He reached under the table, where he had stored a sturdy cooler. He hauled it up on the table. “Fortunately, we also have DNA from tissue samples.” Holloway started undoing the lid latches.

“Tissue samples from what?” Soltan asked.

“Not from what,” Holloway said. He opened the lid. “From whom.”

And with that Holloway reached into the cooler and gently removed Pinto. He placed the fuzzy’s corpse on the table. Meyer gasped in spite of herself.

“Bringing a corpse into the courtroom was not necessary, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said, sharply.

“With all due respect, Your Honor, I disagree,” Holloway said. “If I had not, I doubt Ms. Meyer would accept the authenticity of the evidence, of which there are two types.” Holloway held up Pinto’s small hand. “First, human skin and blood underneath the fuzzy’s nails.” Holloway set the hand back down, gently, and then reached into the cooler again, taking out a small jar. “Second, this bullet, taken out of this fuzzy.” He reached into his folder and extracted a third paper, then walked the bullet and the paper over to the judge. “Here’s my request to impound any and all handguns in Mr. DeLise’s possession, to perform a forensic analysis of their ballistics.” Soltan took both the bullet and the jar.

“That bullet could have come from anywhere,” Meyer said. “A bullet hole in the creature does not mean that particular bullet caused it.” “The bullet was extracted by ZaraCorp’s own biologist,” Holloway said. “She also ran the DNA tests and compared the results against samples in the employment database. I’m certain she would have been happy to testify.” Soltan looked up. “Would have been happy?” she asked.