Tuning William - Fuzzy Bones

There's an old proverb, Tom: 'A hungry man is like a wolf in the forest; he'll go where you tell him when his belly is empty.' "

"We've both seen it before," the Rev said. "When hope goes out the airlock, men get desperate. They've got nothing left to lose, so they'll try most anything-things they would never think of doing if they didn't have their backs to the wall. They 're easy marks for manipulation by people like this bastard Ingermann. I can see it coming in Junktown. Unless something happens to take the pressure off, the whole place is going to blow up one of these days." The little bell rang as someone entered the shop.

Henry Stenson tidied up the sheaf of papers. "Yes, I can build one of these for you, Father. The contact plate will have to be a breadboard rig, but it will sense out all the data you want. Otherwise, it will work just like any Ballard Reader in the best hospital on Terra."

Judge Frederic Pendarvis laid down the sheaf of papers, moved the ashtray a few inches to the right, and took a slender cigar out of the silver box on his desk. After he had lighted it, he leaned back in his chair and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. Then he turned his attention to the bearded giant and the small, bristly-looking man who sat across the desk from him. "I see nothing wrong with this at all. Your assessment is quite correct, Gus. For my part, I agree that we are on solid ground with respect to the Federation Constitution and the body of colonial case law.

"Colonial Investigations Bureau," the Chief Justice said reflectively. He flicked a quarter-inch of ash from his panetella and smiled. "I must congratulate you both on putting this together. The very idea of getting all those different cops to pull together on something like this is nothing short of astounding. I've been dealing with all of the law enforcement agencies on the planet for the past fifteen years, and, I can tell you, they can be the damnedest bunch of fools-squabbling like fishwives over jurisdiction, proof of claim, interrogation priority, previous wants and warrants, perquisites and privilege-you name it. There isn't a one of them I haven't wanted to take a horsewhip to over the years, usually for clogging up the courts while they prove to one and all that their uniform is more righteous than the next guy's." Ben Rainsford frowned and looked at the floor. "Only one thing I'm unhappy about," he said.

"What's that, Ben?" Judge Pendarvis asked. "That young fella, Khadra. I wanted him to head up the CIB. Why'd he have to go and get married and run off to Beta?"

"I strongly suspect it's because he was in love," Pendarvis remarked drily.

Rainsford waved his hand impatiently and began fishing for his pipe in the pocket of his bush jacket.

The way he throws that pipe in and out of his jacket, Pendarvis thought, I'll bet the inside of that pocket looks as black as a Hathor wolfram-miner's

lungs.

"Will this help any," Rainsford said around his pipestem as he touched flame to the bowl, "to slow up the congestion in your criminal courts docket?"

"No," Pendarvis sighed. "It will only make it more orderly."

"Well, I can't give you the extra judgeships you asked for in either department," Rainsford said, almost defensively. "There's just no money for it. The fact of the matter is that the CZC is financing this government at the moment-until we can get a constitution out of those lame-brained delegates , elect a proper legislature, and levy taxes. And the CZC is going to expect its money back one of these days. It's a hell of a way to start out a government-in debt-but it can't be helped, I suppose. Is there anything you and Gus can come up with to reduce the load on the criminal side?" Rainsford looked anxiously at both of them in turn. "I'll go along with anything that makes sense."

Pendarvis' eyes narrowed slightly. "Not much, unless you want to do it at the expense of fair and equal justice under the law," he said evenly.

Gus knew that Rainsford had hit a sensitive spot. "I could encourage my prosecutors to be a little more open to plea-bargaining," he offered. "A lot of these criminal cases are pretty cut and dried, but they stagger on through the system with a long trial-often because the defense attorney loves to hear the pure, spellbinding eloquence of his own courtroom oratory."

"And just as often is practicing his planned future political speeches on the jury," Pendarvis added. "I would have no objection to that, Gus-as long as we veridicate the accused in open court regarding any pressure than might have been brought on him to plead guilty to a lesser charge."

"What will that get us in terms of man-days saved?" Rainsford asked, "-or whatever measure of increased efficiency is applicable."

"Not much," Pendarvis said, "but being able to get one more preliminary hearing a day on each judge's docket will do more than it sounds like."

"The civil side isn't going to get any better, though," Gus said, "and there's nothing I can do about that-out of my jurisdiction."

"Yes," Pendarvis said, almost wistfully. "There's the real rub. We have more criminal cases, but they are simpler than before. Our civil cases-which we also have a great deal more of-are getting more complex."

Rainsford jabbed his pipestem at the air. "It's that Ingermann s.o.b.," he said. "He's behind this caseload problem that's starting to clog up the courts. Overloading the legal system is a fine first step toward bringing down the government. It helps frustrate people. Frustration generates lack of inclination to depend on the legal systems of redress, and that generates more and more lawlessness."

"If that's his purpose," Pendarvis said, "I can see how what you suggest would suit his purpose admirably. But I question that the soi disant geopolitician Hugo Ingermann has an organization that is quite so efficient."

"Oh, I think he does," Gus said. "I've been studying Mr. Ingermann's operation quite closely as I remain alert for ways to rid the planet of him. As I've said, Ingermann is Out to Get Us in capital letters. The more I learn about him, the more I agree with your notion-hare-brained though it seemed at

first-"

Rainsford glared at him.

Gus grinned and went on. ". . . that he's fastened himself on getting control of Zarathustra. And he's smart enough to have several scams working in that direction-on the theory that any one of them will be more apt to pay off in an atmosphere of general disruption and confusion."

A small bell chimed somewhere in Pendarvis' office, discreetly indicating that the time had come for him to go on to other matters.

Rainsford and Brannhard stood and prepared to leave.

"By the way, Governor," Pendarvis said, "I didn't request those judgeships because I thought the government could afford them or because l expected to get them anytime soon."

"What for, then?" Rainsford asked.

"For the record, "Pendarvis said, "so that when we can afford them, I won't be completely at the end of the line for budget increases."

Chapter 18

Mr. Commissioner Holloway reached up behind his own head and pushed his hat down over his forehead to shade his eyes. He chuffed on his pipe and continued to swing the microray scanner ahead of him as he crossed and re-crossed the basin of Fuzzy Valley.

Gerd had his portable lab-screwed to a contragravity lifter-programmed for inorganics and was running soil samples. The lab floated weightless at bench height, bobbing slightly each time Gerd punched a set of data into the chart storage unit.

George and Ahmed were circling the rim of the valley on a small skid, looking for other signs of Fuzzy habitation that couldn't be seen from the air.

The Fuzzies had promptly disappeared upon arrival. "So ni-hosh shi-mosh-gashta," Jack had said. "You find the people like Fuzzies. Tell them Hagga love them, give good treats-give esteefee."