Larry Niven - The Barsoom Project

The Oriental snarled at her. Its neck stretched out toward her, shells taking new alignments, until it resembled a cobra standing in a basket. The yellow/east/Asia composite glared down into her

Welles jerked his mind back on track. It was too damned easy to get lost playing what-if games, and there was work to do.

“This,” the image of Africa said, “this and more can we give you. And it is only the beginning.”

“Wait,” Robin Bowles said, shaking his head. “You’re talking about the death of mankind. If mankind dies, our sins die with us.,’

“Yesss…” the Eskimo nodded. “We are hoping to recruit you. Powerful, virile. Breeders. You will stay here with us, eating, reveling in pleasure, a nonstop orgy, mounting each other, breeding sins for all eternity! Our two worlds will truly coexist, as they were meant to from the beginning of time.”

All four voices joined together, and spoke thunderously. “Let the trial begin!”

The walls flowed. The cityscape closed in. Abruptly the walls had become solid, and waist-high barriers had risen before each of the composite figures. White-shelled sins spilled across their heads to form periwigs.

Sin City had become a courtroom. Their four judges surrounded them at the four cardinal directions.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” the Eskimo image began. Between the shells that formed the walls, individual sins popped up, made rude faces, and disappeared. Little eight-inch abominations stood on each other’s backs and shoulders, cheered and hissed and laughed, and wriggled their glistening bare behinds at the Gamers. “This Court is now in session.”

Robin Bowles said, but not as if he believed it, “I insist on the right to legal counsel.”

The white judge leaned over, grinning. “Ah, yes. And if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Let me see-”

Out of the reeking pool of sin, a ghastly caricature of the figure of blind Justice rose up grinning at them, clattering her teetering scales.

“To hell with that,” Max shouted. “I vote that Robin Bowles represent us!”

Bowles turned, a little shocked. “Are you sure?”

Welles was just as startled. Granted that Bowles was prepped to handle the defense. So were Ollie and Gwen, with prompting from Welles, of course. Welles had expected to have to push a little, argue a little. But the Adventurers seemed to have made their decision, and in Bowles’s favor.

Welles hit the Stall button, and a prerecorded loop played, buying him five seconds to think.

“Whoa!” Hippogryph yelped. Max glanced over, and saw a troop of six sins dragging a roast beef across the courtroom floor, tumbling and fumbling like circus clowns with their load. They were almost to the far side of the room when three sin-sheriffs, complete with badges and riding sea horses, scampered in pursuit.

The entire tableau took about five seconds. Then Kevin remembered himself. “You do want the job, don’t you, Mr. Bowles? I saw you in The Judge Crater Story.”

“You and six other people,” Bowles said ruefully.

“But you can handle it!”

Snow Goose cried, “All in favor!”

A thunderous chorus of ayes filled the air.

“Opposed?”

Not a single nay.

“The ayes have it.”

The black judge looked at them impatiently. “We are here today to try mankind, represented by these sorry assholes, for its sins. In the court we use the Code Napoleon. Your guilt is presumed until you can prove yourselves… ah… what’s that word?”

A skeletal bailiff goose-stepped over to them, its joints and bones constructed of tittering sins standing on one another’s grotesque shoulders. It stage-whispered, “Innocent!”

“Why, yes. That is the word I was looking for.” He harumphed, cleared his throat, and spat out a sin. It landed at Charlene’s feet. It wore a black robber’s mask across its face and a three-digit number across its chest. Chittering, it ran up to her and dug under her trouser cuff. She squeaked and pulled away. The sin hugged a big gold coin to its chest, smiled evilly, and sprinted fol.

Robin Bowles sighed, and then spoke in a voice like rolling thunder. “We are willing to go on trial, but only if we know that we will be tried fairly. If this is a mockery of a trial where you can bend law and logic to fit your own dictates, then we might as well be silent, and keep our dignity while you do with us as you will.”

Orson hissed at Bowles, who bent over, listening and whispering.

The Oriental hadn’t waited. “We will play fair with you. There is no need. Lying is a sin, but sins do not lie.”

Robin Bowles straightened his back, and smiled unpleasantly. “You had better not. My colleague has reminded me of something.”

Max’s little brother stood, cracking his knuckles with glee. “All right. The Raven and Sedna are out of operation. But Sedna has a mate. And Eviane is a tornrait-”

Kevin hastily consulted his pocket computer. “Torngarsoak! Lord of the land animals!”

“Thaaat’s the one. Eviane gives us a direct connection to the spirit world. Torngarsoak is out there, listening and watching. If we are guilty, then he will punish mankind for harming his sweetheart. if we’re innocent-” He smiled charmingly. “Then Torngarsoak will be upset with you.”

He turned, bowed sweepingly from the waist to the wild applause of the Gamers. Charlene Dula seemed beside herself with enthusiasm.

“Thank you, colleague Orson.”

“It was nothing, colleague Robin.”

Bowles spoke in his most professorial tones. “All right,” he said. “That having been said, I move for a dismissal of all charges.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that we, representing the Western world, were ignorant of Eskimo law, and therefore must be held blameless.”

The four judges conferred for a moment, then shook their heads. “No. Your motion is disallowed for two reasons. First, even if we discounted sins which are exclusive to the Eskimo world, there are enough overlapping sins-murder, for instance-to condemn you.”

“And the second?”

“Ignorance of the law is no excuse. This is well known in your Western law.”

Robin nodded his head, and paced back and forth. Suddenly he stopped. “What are the sins of which we stand accused?”

“Murder. Abortion of children in times of plenty. Men who have no hunting skills. Women who disgrace their communities by dressing poorly. Destruction of the family units.”

“I submit to you,” Bowles said, “that these sins have been with mankind since time immemorial, and that the universe was created in balance despite them. There has been no increase in sin-it merely looks that way because of the increase in communications.”

The four man-shapes laughed in a thousand voices. “We have heard that argument before. ‘if you hadn’t caught me, it wouldn’t be a crime.’ And it is disallowed.”

“But you must admit,” Bowles continued, “that more than the human race is on trial here. What must also be weighed is whether you have overstepped the bounds of your power. if you are wrong, and there has been no vast upsurge of sin, then you yourselves have acted to throw the universe out of balance. Torngarsoak’s vengeance would be terrible. The question is… have you sinned?”

Robin asked it in powerfully insinuating tones. The judges recoiled for a moment, then answered: “We cannot sin. We are sin!”

Breathing harshly, Bowles mopped his forehead. Sweating underwater?

“I propose,” Bowles continued, “that we simplify the issues. Choose the one sin of which we are most demonstrably guilty, and let us defend ourselves against that. Choose the one-we can only be hung once as a species, as a culture. If modern man is so wicked, has fallen so far from the path, then choose one.”