I, Alien

which species now known to us [but which were, at the time of the proceedings, unknown] established Justice/Injustice Precedent…

… what the early Injustice Collectors learned was that the bags did not accept as an Injustice cases presided over by an Injustice Collector in which a Party of Unknown Sentience did not understand the intricacies of the proceeding…

Therefore, certification continues in the Incident at Gray’s Brook, also known as Requesting Party Reference: MugwL Case 3345678221.

Record of Proceeding

Incident at Gray’s Brook

Injustice Collector 0080 Presiding

Testimony of Requesting Party [continued]

Human children are curious creatures. They share some traits with the adults of the species, but no one would intuitively understand that such a small creature, less than a meter in length at first appearance, would eventually become the towering figures now standing to my left.

In fact, we had no idea at the time of the incident that the creatures called “children” were also a type of “human.” We believed them to be a related Earth species, rather like the Canine we had referred to in our previous remarks.

It is counterintuitive to believe these creatures would grow at such an astounding rate. It is also counterintuitive to believe that a group traveling the great distances that the humans traveled would bring the young of the species, carrying with it the very future of the species itself.

We therefore request that the surviving children join this proceeding as the Bystanding Party—

Interruption in the Proceeding

Eight Cycles into the Requesting Party’s Testimony, A Breach of Protocol

This protocol breach [and, I am certain, all others] are caused by the factors listed in the Second Cycle breach described above. I see no reason to repeat that finding here. In future breaches, I shall simply describe the breach, and continue with the Report of the Proceeding.

If any member of the Review Board has an objection, I refer him to the Board of Governors’ Response to the Official Inquiry on the Humans [attached above].

—Injustice Collector 0080

“Your Honor,” said the human who, before this morning’s proceedings, introduced himself [they assure me that this creature is a male] as the one in charge. At my request, he wears a large red badge which lists his designation: John Graf. I do not know what these words stand for; I know only that I am to use them whenever I refer to the human with the red badge. “You can’t let them do this.”

The “them” in that sentence refers to the Requesting Party. The “this” refers to the introduction of the “children” as the Bystanding Party.

I cite regulations, as I have done for days now. The “humans” apparently have a short attention span. We discussed the rights of the Requesting Party in regard to the Bystanding Party on the first day of the explanatory proceedings.

“No, sir,’ the John Graf human said, “I’m afraid you don’t understand. By our laws and customs, the only people who speak for our children are their parents.”

I do not know this word “parents” and I tell the John Graf so.

His bald skin turns an alarming shade of red, nearly the color of his badge, and I am concerned that my words have harmed him physically. The “whispering” begins again, and I beg for silence.

Then I tell the John Graf that he may recess for medical treatment if he so desires.

His tiny features press together, as if he is trying to make them into a MugwL face. “I’m in perfect health, Your Monor.”

He sounds—and I am merely guessing—offended. I look down at the bag which I have stored under the Decision Desk to see if it detects an Injustice that I may have inadvertently caused, but it hasn’t even twitched.

“I just find it appalling that you don’t know what parents are,” the John Graf says. His voice has risen to an intolerable level. “I’m opposed to a legal proceeding when our cultures are so different that we have to explain something as basic as parenthood.”

I hold up my middle hand. “We are discussing ‘parents,’ not ‘parenthood.’ Please do not confuse the issue.”

He makes a blatting sound, like the wind through a malfunctioning weezer engine.

“I am not confusing any issue,” he says. “You people are. We can’t continue with this charade any longer.”

 Another concept I do not know. But I do not ask him to explain it, since I am beginning to agree with the MugwL’s characterization of the humans as People of Broken Promises. I ask the John Graf to explain “parents” and instead, he confuses the issue by adding two more unknown words into the proceedings.

No explanation of “parents” appears to be forthcoming.

“We’re leaving,” the John Graf says.

The nineteen other humans nod in agreement. They all turn toward the Great Mall doors, but I do not open them.

“You cannot leave when the Proceedings are underway,” I tell them. “The doors will only open in case of Recess or final Determination.”

[An Aside: I wish for nothing more than the opening of doors and the disappearance of the humans. The stench seems worse this day. My eyes have been burning since the presentation began.]

“We refuse to participate any longer,” the John Graf says. “This is a joke!”

Joke. Another new word. I choose not to focus on it, but on the preceding sentence:

“You cannot refuse to participate,” I remind him. “The time for that is past. You had from the moment the Request for a Justice/Injustice review was made to the Board of Governors to the moment the Collecting 5hip arrived to demand a cancellation. You did not make such a demand. 5o the proceeding must continue.”

“Another stupid law no one bothered to tell us about,” the John Graf says, waving his arm downward, as if he is compacting a pile of snow.

“We should’ve just killed the fuckers,” one of the other humans says, rather loudly. This is not a “whisper.” I believe it was meant to be heard. “Blasted them all to hell and back for what they did to the kids.”

Murmurs of agreement thread through the human crowd. The MugwLs look at me as if they expect me to stop it.

They should know better. If the humans take action, I can only observe. If the MugwLs or their survivors then believe that the human action was wrong, they can make yet another request for an Injustice Collector. I will become a Peripherally Involved Party, and will not sit on the Decision Desk.

[An Aside: I confess that such a change would please me. I find this case taxing, and would like as much as the humans for it to end.]

“It could’ve been an accident,” says the John Graf. “It’s pretty clear we don’t understand these aliens any more than they understand us. I’m not going to be in charge of a genocide, even when—”

“Even when they kill our kids?” the other human asks.

The John Graf expels air, and shakes his head from side to side. He is clearly in charge, but the others do not agree with him. I fear trouble of a type I am not equipped to deal with.

I glance down. The bag has turned a light lavender. It is getting greedy. I slam its top closed with two of my hands, using the other two to twist the top into a knot. The bag fades, but I worry that this is just an act.

The John Graf is leaning close to his compatriots. “We’ve been here for fifty years,” he says, as if this is important.

It sounds strange to me. The MugwL claimed in his opening testimony that the humans had only been here half a season, and I see no evidence to the contrary.

But the other humans do not disagree with that characterization. In fact, many of them nod which, as their