Birthright

accomplished a hell of a lot—in human terms, anyway. Also, due to their physiology and the mental

attitude that accompanies an eons-long life span, very few methane races are at all advanced technologically. There's never been much research done on their ESPer qualities, but I'd assume they're a little higher than average in telepathy and almost at the bottom of the scale in all other such talents. “Being basically static in their social outlook and mobility, I imagine that their penal codes would be both simple and very stark. They'd have little experience with lawbreakers, almost no misdemeanors, and would rid their society of felons swiftly and efficiently. “Of course,” he concluded with a smile, “none of the above may apply to this particular race of methane-breathers.”

“Thanks,” grunted Khalinov. “Anything else you can think of off the top of your massive head?” “It's my brain that's massive,” corrected Kominsky. “My head simply houses it. As for any further information, I can only add that since they could never have been carnivores, they probably aren't going to view even an accidental murder in the most rational or lenient of lights. Murder's an ugly thing even to a race that once depended on killing for its survival; I would think that it's incomprehensible to a methane-breather, especially since most of them are sexless and therefore can't even have had any experience with crimes of passion.”

“Okay,” said Khalinov. “I'd sure hate to hear you expound on a subject you know something about.” He stood up. “Find out everything you can about the Atrians, check into any court cases they may have won or lost onother planets, and get back to me in a couple of days.” While his staff went about their duties, Khalinov went down to the library stacks in the building's basement and began finding out what he could about Atrian law. It wasn't very encouraging.

Five non-Atrians, none of them Men, had been tried for murder during the twelve centuries that Atria XVI had been a member of the galactic community. All had been found guilty, and all had been summarily executed.

Atrian criminal law was a composite of childishly simple codes and shockingly severe penalties. Most of the crimes were meaningless to Khalinov; they evidently could be committed only by one Atrian against the person or property of another. But for those crimes that could be committed by non-Atrians, they were meaningful in the extreme.

Anyone who knowingly or unknowingly caused the death of an Atrian, for any reason whatsoever, including self-defense, was guilty of murder. The penalty: death. Anyone who entered an Atrian domicile without written permission was guilty of the Atrian equivalent of breaking and entering. The penalty: death. Anyone who took possession of any Atrian property or artifact without first proffering a fair and agreed-upon payment was guilty of robbery and/or burglary. The penalty: death. Andthat, in toto, was their penal code for alien races. It told Khalinov almost as much about the race by its omissions as by what it said. For one thing, it was

obvious that Kominsky was right about their near-indestructibility, for there was no mention of assault or

battery. He was probably also correct about their being a race of philosophical bent, since, unlike most of the races of the galaxy, there was no mention of blasphemy or of giving lip service to local religious mores. Probably the surest bet of all was that they were indeed long-lived, for nowhere was there any sentence other than death; and it stood to reason that prison sentences would be meaningless to a race that was virtually immortal.

The transcripts of the five non-Atrian murder trials were almost identical. In every case the argument was made that the act had been accidental. In only one case did the court disagree, but it seemed to make no difference. If a non-Atrian caused an Atrian death, his own life was forfeit. Period. He read more. The defendant did not have to be present; if he was, he could not confront his accusers unless they agreed. Trial was by a randomly selected jury of five, but the jury could be waived by the defense. And, finally, there was only one court on Atria, because of the relative absence of crime. As a result, its verdict was final; there was absolutely no procedure by which a decision could be appealed. Krantz had been given a preliminary hearing on Deluros VIII, at which time he was indicted of the lesser crime of resisting arrest and making an illegal claim of sanctuary. They decided, further, that he qualified for extradition. As yet, his case hadn't been heard on Atria XVI, for on that unthinkably frigid world there were no bills of indictment, no pretrial hearings, nothing but a simple verdict of innocent or guilty. After two more hours of poring over what little was written concerning Atrian law, it began to look more and more as if this wasn't going to go down in history as one of Ivor Khalinov's more brilliant cases. He started up from his book, suddenly aware of another presence in the room. It was Kominsky, back from wherever he went to do his research, and looking as grim as Khalinov. “Well?” demanded the barrister.

“To draw a rather poor parallel,” said Kominsky, “if your boy Krantz were a horse, we could save a lot of time and money by shooting him right now.” “It looks that bad?”

“It sure doesn't look good,” said Kominsky. “I'll give it to you point by point. First, the only Atrian who won a court case on any other world was executed upon returning to Atria XVI, because they thought the judgment had been too lenient. Second, they're more fragile than most methane-breathers; there can't be any doubt that a good loud sneeze, amplified by passing through an unfiltered and unmuffled T-pack on Krantz's oxygen helmet, would shatter every Atrian in his vicinity. Third, they subscribe to the laws of the Galactic Commerce Commission insofar as their interplanetary and interstellar trade is concerned, but they seem to do it as a necessary and irritating inconvenience; none of the more sophisticated codes, such as mercy, applies in planetary matters. Fourth, they have no religion, and even if they did, I very much doubt that their god would be the forgiving type. Fifth, they are definitely asexual, and reproduce by a form of budding, unbelievable as that sounds. Sixth, the average life span is upward of three thousand years. Seventh, there's never been a trial that lasted more than two hours. And eighth, I could use a drink.”

“I'll agree with your last point,” said Khalinov, pulling out a hip flask. “How about the first seven?”

“Oh, I agree with them, too. That's why I'm drinking with you.” He uttered a long “Ahhh,” wiped his

mouth off, and passed the flask to Kominsky. “I want you to hunt up Braque as soon as you can. Assuming he hasn't been sleeping all afternoon, he should have figured out what form of communication passes for video on Atria XVI. Have him line up a couple of guys who can use the medium, and have them make a five-minute recording.”

“Of what?”

“Of an Atrian whose protective glove accidentally comes off while visiting Deluros VIII, thereby freezing fifty-seven Men to death.”

“Okay,” said Kominsky dubiously. “But...” “But what?”

“But I think the Atrian judge may sentence the actor to death for even pretending to take someone else's life.”

Khalinov just glared at him.

* * * *

The courtroom was filled by the press, Krantz's parents and their influential friends, Khalinov's staff and assistants, and a handful of beautiful, blue-white, grasslike creatures. Khalinov himself, terribly uncomfortable in his modified heat-and-oxygen suit, sat at a table some twenty feet from a large crystalline figure, who was either standing, sitting, squatting, kneeling, or lying down, Khalinov couldn't decide which.

“Has the defense anything to say before sentence is passed?” said the Atrian. The words were like delicate chimes, but they came out in flat, unaccented Galactic-O through Khalinov's T-pack. The lawyer rose to his feet.

“Your honor,” he said, “I have not even heard the charges against my client.” “Were you not sent a copy of our penal code, along with a report of Man Krantz's actions?” “Yes, but it is customary for the prosecuting attorney to state his case prior to the opening statement of the defense.”

“Whose custom are you referring to, Man Khalinov?” asked the judge. “Yours or ours?” “My apologies, your honor,” said Khalinov, bowing deeply. “That being the case, I would like to enter a plea of innocent to the charge of premeditated murder.” “I do not recall that the word ‘premeditated’ was included in the charges,” said the judge. “But it must have been implied, your honor,” said Khalinov, “or else some crime other than murder has been committed.”

“That is for me to decide,” said the Atrian. “You have waived trial by jury, for reasons best known to