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Chapter 26

They were not thrown in jail.

They were dragged roughly out of the four-wheeled cart and securely bound, with iron chains, to four upright posts, also of iron. Dazedly Grimes looked about him. He and the others had been brought to the open area between the waterfront, with its jetties, and the town. He was facing a long table, on which were three oil lanterns, at which were sitting Pastor Coffin and, one to either side of him, two clerkly men. Other lanterns were hung from tall posts, illuminating the faces of the crowd that had turned up to . . . . To see the fun?

Coffin glared at Grimes from beneath his heavy, black brows. He demanded, in a deep voice, "Prisoner at the bar, how plead ye?"

Grimes mustered enough saliva to wash most of the sand and blood out of his mouth. He spat, regretting as he did so that the pastor was out of range. He spat again.

"Prisoner at the bar, how plead ye?" repeated Coffin.

"I do not plead," almost shouted Grimes. "I demand. I demand that I and my people be returned, at once, to our ship!"

"Prisoner at the bar, how plead ye? Guilty or not guilty?"

"Guilty of fucking what?" demanded Grimes, considering that this occasion called for some deliberate obscenity in his speech, realizing, too late, that his words could be misconstrued. (But, he thought, he had not played an active part in that orgy.)

Coffin seemed to be losing his patience. "John Grimes, you will answer my questions. Are you, or are you not, guilty of witchcraft?"

"Witchcraft? You must be joking."

"This is no joking matter, Grimes. Are you guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty."

One of the clerkly men was writing in a big book with an antique-looking pen.

"Your plea has been recorded," said Coffin. He turned his attention to Shirl. "You, woman. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," she replied in a firm voice.

"And you, woman. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," said Darleen.

"And . . . you?" Coffin was glaring at Seiko, who was sagging in her bonds.

The robot was speaking with difficulty. "Not . . . " she got out at last. "Not . . . guilty."

"Very well," said Coffin. "Now we shall hear the truth. Clerk of the court, call the first witness."

The man sitting on his right—not, as Grimes had been expecting, the man writing in the book— rose to his feet, called, in a high voice, "Matthew Ling, stand forward! Matthew Ling, stand forward!"

A burly fellow shouldered his way through the crowd, took his stance between the prisoners and Coffin's table.

"Matthew Ling, identify yourself," ordered the pastor.

"My name is Matthew Ling," said the man. "I hold the rank of Law Enforcer Second Class."

"Tell your story, Law Enforcer Ling."

"May it please the court," said Ling, "my story is as follows." He spoke as do police officers all over the galaxy when giving evidence, his voice toneless. "Pursuant to information received and to the instructions of Pastor Coffin I followed the four accused from the spaceport to Short Bay. At first I thought that they were members of the Negro race; as the court is aware there are some of those accursed people in the crew of the starship. I caught glimpses of their faces while they were still on the spaceport grounds, and saw that they were black . . . "

"As their faces," said Coffin, "are black now. And their hands. That alone is damning evidence. Why should a God-fearing man or woman blacken the Lord's handiwork as evinced on his person? I will tell you. As a badge of submission to the Prince of Darkness. But continue, Law Enforcer."

"May it please the court . . . I followed the accused through the bush, across the coast road, and then concealed myself in the bushes, in a position overlooking the beach at Short Bay. I watched the accused setting up a device on a tripod, a devil's machine of some kind that emitted colored lights. Then the male accused sat down on the sand and began to inhale the poisonous fumes of some weed that he was burning in the bowl of a small implement. While he was partaking of his noxious drug the three female accused disrobed. I saw then that their faces and hands were blackened but not the rest of their bodies. The female accused then disported themselves in a wanton manner before the male accused.

"The three female accused waded into the sea. Two of them swam, with unnatural skill. The third one, the one with the black hair, waded out into deep water until she was lost to sight. At no time did she swim or attempt to swim. The other ones returned to the beach and, still naked, sat beside the male accused, joining him in the ritual inhalation of some noxious weed.

"Finally the black-haired female accused came up from the sea, followed by six silkies. What happened then I should never have believed unless I had witnessed it with my own eyes. The three witch-women sported with the silkies. It was a scene of sickening bestiality." (At last there was a hint of emotion in the flat voice.) "But even the witches and the silkies tired of their lewd games. The silkies returned to the sea. But the black-haired witch stood on a rock, and each silky, before going back to the sea, made a sign of submission to her by placing its flipper on her bare feet. I had seen enough and made my way back to the city, by the coast road, to make my report."

"And what you have told us is the truth," stated rather than asked Pastor Coffin.

"It is, sir," said Ling.

"Objection!" shouted Grimes.

Coffin consulted with the two clerks then said, "John Grimes, it pleases us to hear your objection. Say your say."

"Your Law Enforcer Ling is not a reliable witness, pastor."

"Indeed? How not so?"

"Law Enforcer Ling stated that on the night in question I sat down on the beach to enjoy a quiet smoke. That is correct. He also stated that Ms Kelly and Ms Byrne, after they had finished their swim, also enjoyed a smoke. They did not. That was because they had brought no smoking materials with them."

Ling was called to the pastor's table, was engaged in a low-voiced conference with Coffin and the other two. Finally he stood aside.

The pastor said, "It is your word, John Grimes, against the word of my law enforcer . . . ."

"My word," said Grimes hotly, "and the words of two of my officers."

"There may," admitted Coffin magnanimously, "be some confusion in Law Enforcer Ling's memory. For this there is ample excuse. What he witnessed would have been enough to turn the mind of any man not of exceptionably strong and pious character. And Law Enforcer Ling was with me tonight, when you and the other accused were apprehended. I saw, with my own eyes, both you and the women Kelly and Byrne indulging in your filthy habit. The objection that you have raised is a mere quibble."

Grimes subsided. They can't shoot us for smoking, he thought. Not even on this Woody planet.

But for witchcraft?

"Call the second witness," ordered Coffin.

"Job Gardiner," called the clerk. "Job Gardiner. Stand forward!"

"My name is Job Gardiner," said the man, who could almost have been twin brother to Matthew Ling. "I hold the rank of Chief Law Enforcer . . . "

He cleared his throat. "Pursuant to information received and to direct orders from Pastor Coffin, I, together with a party of law enforcers—among whom was Matthew Ling—made my way to Short Beach by the coast road. Pastor Coffin accompanied us, saying, and rightly, that this was a very serious matter and that he would have to exercise overall command of the operation . . . ."

And so it went on.

" . . . it was obvious, to the pastor and myself, to all of us that the four accused were talking to the silkies and that the silkies were talking to them. And such things cannot be. Then the silkies returned to the sea, but before they did so they made bestial obeisance to the black-haired witch. The pastor ordered us to arrest the four blasphemous outworlders. We did so, and we smashed the-Devil's machine that they had brought with them."

But the tapes should have survived, thought Grimes The tapes, and their damning evidence. But would they be retrieved? Would they ever be played back?

"The court has heard the evidence," said Coffin. "We all have heard the evidence. It is obvious that at least one of the accused, the black-haired woman, is a witch. It is probable that the man and the other two women are lesser witches, or acolytes. But we must be sure before we order our law to take its course. Chief Law Enforcer Gardiner, I order you to apply the acid test."

"Law Enforcer Ling," ordered Gardiner in his turn, "bring the acid."

Coffin smiled bleakly at Grimes. "We have our methods, outworlder, of determining the guilt or otherwise of witches. The acid test is one of the more effective. An accused witch is required to drink a draught of acid. If he or she is uninjured, then obviously he or she is a witch and is dealt with accordingly. If he or she suffers harm, then he or she is possibly not a witch."

"Heads I win, tails you lose," said Grimes.

"You speak in riddles, Grimes. And nothing you say is of any consequence."

Ling returned from wherever he had gone carrying a large bottle. He handed this to his superior, then went to stand behind Seiko, pulling her head back with one hand, forcing her mouth open with the other. Gardiner, who was now wearing heavy gloves, approached her from in front. He raised the unstoppered bottle, began to pour its contents between her parted lips. Some of the corrosive fluid spilled on to Seiko's clothing, which smoked acridly.

There was a murmur from the crowd, more than a murmur, a chorus of shouts. "She is a witch! Kill her! Kill her!"

Then, abruptly, Seiko regurgitated the acid that had been p6ured into her. The burning stream struck Gardiner full in the face. He dropped the bottle, which shattered, and screamed shrilly, clawing at his ruined eyes.

Incongruously the robot murmured, "I . . . am . . . sorry. But my . . . circuits . . . were not . . . designed to . . . take such punishment . . . "

Grimes was not sorry. The Chief Law Enforcer had deserved what he got. (To how many flesh-and-blood women had he applied this acid test?) And the bottle was broken and, hopefully, it would take some time to fetch a new one and, meanwhile, anything might happen . . .

Grimes hoped.

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Framed