We know what lengths lawyers must go to these days to win a case. This yarn speculates on the same kind of legal hijinks in a future time, in a most unusual courtroom. The stakes are very high, the tactics quite remarkable — and the motivation very, very familiar.

CLOSEST KIN

by Thomas A. Easton

CHILL day under a yellow sun. A small, warm room in a pile of rfl polished stone. An accomplished adversary. A neutral arbiter.

And a case that could pay the rent and buy smoke, drink, and women for years to come. What more could a lawyer ask?

Well, he might ask that the case be his own, instead of the Imperium’s, and that he and his adversary both be on salary. And he might ask that the stone pile be a more modern edifice, with the latest in laminar-flow climate control curtains that allowed members of different species to share a room in comfort. As it was, Askel, Hound of Justice to the Imperium, had to pant embarrassingly loudly to spill excess heat from his grey-furred body, while his opponent, Takit of the Imperial Revenue Service, visibly shivered in his fine-meshed scales. Only the Polarian judge seemed wholly at ease. But then what else could one expect of a backwater isolationist world? At least the streets outside were quiet.

“The case is simple,” said Takit. His face, with its elongated suggestion of a -snout, was aimed carefully midway between Askel and the judge. “There has been a death. Since the deceased had neither issue nor close kin, all his property and wealth go to the Imperium. So reads the Law.” He didn’t add that his job was to see that the Imperium got all it could. There were wars to fight and ships to build and payrolls to meet, always, and every jot and tittle helped.

Askel sighed. They had been over this ground before, many times. The death had happened nearly a decade ago. “I don’t agree, Agent Takit. Granted, we have searched this whole sector for the deceased’s issue. We have gone through all his books, his files, his records. We have torn his home apart, looking for clues. And we have found precious little.”

“Because there is nothing to find.”

“Or too much. We know he felt kinship with every living thing.” “As should we all. But nonsentients don’t count, as you well know. Not even borderline sentients, such as this world has in its seas.” Askel rubbed his black button nose with a fingertip. It wasn’t as cool as it should have been. He knew the heat of the room was bad for him. He wondered if he was coming down with a cold. A month before, it would have been a relief to take to his bed for a few days. To duck the haggling. But not now. Not when he was so nearly free to leave this world for good. “Of course, Agent Takit. I am not suggesting that we use the deceased’s goods to establish a home for indigent cats. But we do have to take great care not to miss any possibility. The courts back home thrive on appeals. And not all the Imperium’s lawyers wait for clients to come to them.”

Takit shifted his gaze to stare directly at Askel’s bare face. The pink skin shone against its frame of fur. It was smooth, unwrinkled, and for

all Takit’s trained skill at reading the expressions of a hundred species, he could see nothing there. “Now look, Askel. I know your job. You were hired to protect the rights of widows and orphans …”

“To detect and prevent dishonesty of all kinds.”

“So reads the Law. I know.” Takit bared his small even teeth in a grimace. For all his scales and snout, he was an omnivore, as had been his ancestors for a million years. “But there aren’t any widows or orphans here. There aren’t even any distant cousins. There’s nobody to inherit.”

“He shared ancestors with every living thing on this world.”

“We agreed there are limits.”

“But there are precedents. Remember Grout’s World. It had two sentient species.”

“As unrelated as cats and fish. But sentient!”

“And I suppose that has to be the point. But tell me, Takit. What is your definition of sentient?”

“You’re getting off the track, Askel.” Takit tried to ignore the other’s brief smile as a feint, but he was less certain than he wished to be. Was he off the track? Really? “But I don’t mind answering. The deceased put a good deal of thought into it, and we’ve had plenty of experience with the question. It’s not tool-using alone, and it’s not speech. It’s thought, and if you don’t have an esper with you the only way to detect it is by behavior. If it communicates, whether by speech, writing, holovision records, chewed sticks, or drawings in the dirt, it’s sentient.”

Askel looked pleased for just an instant. This, he thought, made his job so much easier. It would have been such a chore to establish this definition of sentience, even though he could, if necessary, cite scholars and lawyers by the hundred to do so. “Agreed. Let it be so stipulated. And I think you’ll be able to go home to your wives and basking sands very soon now.” He paused for effect. Takit didn’t quite yelp his surprise. “By that definition, I have an heir.”

“Of what degree of kinship?”

“Closer than a songbird or a fish. You could even call her an adopted daughter.”

“Adopted?”

“Brought into the family, raised there, taught and trained, and given the wherewithal for communication.”

Takit frowned in suspicion. “I hope you’re not thinking of a pet. They can communicate needs, desires, love, loyalty, but that’s not enough to call them sentient.”

“Oh, no. No pets, Takit. And I’m sure you’ll agree to the sentience when I call her in.”

“She’s a witness too, then?”

“Of course she is. The deceased can hardly speak for himself. He’s gone, and he had no friends to speak up for him now. He refused to go into space, and he let few visitors land here. No scholars. Just the occasional Imperial inspector or tax-gatherer and the odd trader. What a shame that one of those traders had to bring the plague that did him in.”

“A whole world. A whole species. I only wish the event were rarer.” “So do I, Takit. But most species do have colonies and spacers, so a whole species is rarely lost.”

“And your heir?”

“I’ve been fortunate there. The actual relationship is fairly close, certainly closer than that between you and a sandragon. And she, or her ancestors, were frequently adopted as well. I had to repeat the process, the training, to prove her sentience, but it only took a few years. I couldn’t use the language of her ancestors, but I am fluent in Fomalhaut handspeech and could use that. She learned it, and she’s waiting for us to invite her in.”

“I suppose we must.” Takit felt defeated. His search for heirs — or their absence — had been thorough, but clearly not thorough enough. He had never seen the signs, or he had not seen their meaning. He had wasted years on this case. If he had truly lost, he would be lucky to be demoted only to assistant auditor, for the IRS coveted the estates of worlds far more than those of even the richest individuals. He would surely never again be anAgent-in-Charge. “You are so sure of yourself. Does this a mount to a challenge to my case?”

“It does.”

They both turned to the judge, who only now had an active role to play. The Imperium’s system of justice was complex, but it worked. Judges, trained both in the rules of evidence and law and in philosophy, listened while lawyers for opposing sides investigated, argued, and debated. When in time the picture cleared and one lawyer had the confidence to challenge his opponent with a single clinching bit of evidence, a quod erat demonstrandum, the judge directed the clincher’s presentation and ruled on its persuasiveness. A single judge was usually deemed sufficient. Only in criminal cases did the Law dictate a panel of five judges.

The Polarian, quite human-looking aside from his purplish skin, smiled at them both. “I have enjoyed your arguments for the past year or so. So did my predecessor, I’m pleased to say. I’m sorry today will see the end of this case. Your witness, Hound of Justice, will either win the case for you or lose it. You, Agent, will be going home with an empty fleet or a full one. If full, it will be laden with the art, literature, fabrics, jewelry, toys, chemicals, machinery, and foodstuffs of a civilization. If empty, its would-be cargo will remain here for the use of the heir. And in that case, I have no doubt but that the Imperium will soon be sending aid. I am sure some will be needed before the heir can fully enjoy her inheritance.”

Askel nodded his agreement.

“The outcome of this challenge will determine many things. The heir’s future will be dim or bright with promise, perhaps even with promise of another member of the Imperium. The IRS will be either angered or pleased. But justice will be served.”

All three chorused, “So reads the Law.”

“Then let’s get on with it. Where is your witness, your heir, Hound Askel?”

“In the anteroom, Honored Sir.”

“And I believe my translator can handle Fomalhaut handspeech. I will summon her.” As the judge adjusted dials on the console beside his left elbow, the translator’s small lens, mounted on the wall above and behind him, turned toward the door to the anteroom. He pressed a button, and when the bailiff answered from the console’s grill, he said, “Send in the individual in the anteroom.”

While they waited, the judge turned to Askel and asked, “What is she called?”

Askel did not take his eyes from the door as he replied. “I have named her Aileen.” He could feel his tension in his muscles. This was it. The fate of one species, the memory of another, his own career, even Takit’s, all riding on the next few moments. Would she remember her lessons? Would she be impressive enough?

He needn’t have worried. Hardly had the door opened to admit Aileen’s black-haired, shambling form than the case was his. As soon as she was fully in the room, her deep brown eyes settled on the judge. Her thin lips drew back from her dome-like jaw and she uttered a curiously haunting hooting moan. And her hands moved in gestures first devised many lightyears away from this third planet of a small yellow star.

The translator did not hesitate. Her handspeech was clear, if not polished, and she was as convincing as Askel could have wished. Her first words were, “Well! It’s about time!”