and that appendage at the base of the spine— the tail—looked vaguely ominous to me, as if the creatures were slapped together by a careless scientist.)
It is true that we do not have bald skin as the humans do; ours is dusted attractively with fine hairs, making each of us distinctive. Our noses are larger and our mouths open beneath them—perhaps the most canine of our features—but we, as a people, have come to resent the word
As for the rest, we do not see ourselves as too different from the humans. We use our arms in much the same way, we have hands, we wear clothing. It is true that we do not wear shoes, but the bottoms of our feet are tough and hair-covered. We do not injure as easily as the humans do. Which, I suppose, is the heart of the problem.
They came half a season ago. Their ships were shiny and silver, made of materials we had not seen before. Their leaders offered to teach us how to create such materials, but the lessons never happened—one of many such incidents. Among my tribe, the humans have became known as the People of Broken Promises.
The humans created a settlement on the ice plain, not realizing, of course, that we were in summer, and the plain was at its best. Trees flowered, insects buzzed, and a thousand varieties of summer vegetation grew across the expanse. The air, thick with humidity, was nearly unbearable to us; to them, it spoke of comfort—the “tropics,” “paradise,” and other words that we did not then know.
We did know that soon the fall would come with its rains, destroying all but the hardiest of plants. Those would die in the cold, buried beneath the sheet of ice that gave the plain its name.
We doubted the humans would survive the fall, let alone the cold. We did not tell them of the cycle, believing that such warning would reward ignorance.
That is why we did not contact the Injustice Collector at the theft of land.
We believed justice had taken care of itself.
Interruption in the Proceeding
Breach of Protocol by the creatures known as human require in-depth reporting methods not employed in two centuries of Injustice Collecting. The humans, it seems, are unfamiliar with the concept of Justice/Injustice. They believe such decisions might be rendered on the small scale, and as a result, have appealed to me in unorthodox ways, which under rules 7,765 and 11,235 I am obligated to report.
As a result, my presence will intrude on the record of these proceedings. I beg the Review Board’s indulgence.
—Injustice Collector 0080
This meeting is taking place, as is customary in cases of cultural disputes, in the Great Mall of the Collecting Ship. Tour members of the Requesting Party, both male and female, stand to the left. Twenty members of the non-Requesting Party stand to the right.
Both sides have been instructed in the rules of the proceedings, although for the two days of rules’ instructions, only two of the humans attended.
Since the number of humans has grown significantly, I can only assume the added eighteen were not briefed by their colleagues.
[To complicate matters, both the MugwL and the humans have distinctive—and competing—odors. The MugwL’s fur stinks of rone spice—a sharp peppery scent that invades the nostrils—and the humans, beneath the coating odor of soap, give off a musk that burns the eyes. When I inquired, I was told that such an odor is called a “nervous sweat” and it cannot be controlled. Human suggestions to control the temperature were ignored as untenable. My suggestion that some of the human party leave was met with severe protests. However, if the stench worsens, I will be forced to cut the human presence in half.]
The Non-Requesting Party is inattentive and disrespectful. They speak without tone—in something called a “whisper”—and believe they cannot be heard.
They have obviously not met an Injustice Collector before. They seem to believe that because I am small and do not have features they can readily identify, I am somehow less than they are.
Already, I can see why the MugwL find them so intolerable.
The Breach of Protocol began when the MugwL Representative stated, “That is why we did not contact the Injustice Collector at the theft of land.”
The “whispering” rose to an intolerable level, and one human, not one of the original two (I believe, since it is hard to tell—the bald skin is, as the MugwL implied, offensive), cried out, “We didn’t steal! We asked permission to settle there!”
The MugwL Representative continued over the disturbance, adding his phrase, “We believed justice had taken care of itself.”
At which another of the humans, one of the tallest, turned toward the MugwL so quickly that I feared violence.
“You fucking bastard,” the human said—and judging by its tone, the words
I clapped two of my hands for silence, and to my surprise, the human complied. Perhaps it was the spray of red light that flew from my fingertips. That seems to impress the lesser species.
As I clapped with two hands, I used the other three to set the collection bag beneath the Decision Desk. It became clear to me in that moment that the humans do not understand the proceedings.
I do not sit in Judgment, therefore I am not a Judge. I merely listen to the reports and determine to whom the Injustice has occurred. Then I collect it.
Or rather, the bag does. Most of my efforts go toward corralling the bag.
I try to explain this to the humans again (more confirmation that the initial human representatives did not report back to their colleagues), but the humans did not seem to understand.
More “whispering” occurred, and a common sentence wound its way through the Non-Requesting Party:
If matters of Justice/Injustice were so easily determined, there would be no need for the Decision Desk. Again, I explain, but the humans seem confused.
They seem to believe that the decision is a judgment which I would therefore make. They do not seem to understand the distinctions required by the customs of the Alliance.
I call for a recess, insist that both Parties leave the Ship, and order scrubbers into the Great Hall to attempt to alleviate the stench.
Then I transmit my request for assistance to the Board of Governors.
I tell them I am concerned that I might commit an Injustice myself.
The self-named Humans are an unknown, unstudied species. A careful search of the records reveals that they have never been a Requesting, Non-Requesting, Peripherally Involved, or Bystanding Party in any Justice/Injustice proceeding…
Cases involving unknown, unstudied species must proceed as if the species is sentient, according to Justice/Injustice standards…
… and so, to satisfy your request, we had to return to the earliest records of Justice/Injustice proceedings, in
