Posted in Fiction

Chapter 7: Not a confrontational type

Mike Williams series: A courtroom drama in space

Mike Williams had always been afraid of conflicts. Whenever the clouds for an argument started to gather he was the first to leave the room. Growing up, his two big sisters and father had always loved discussions in a very aggressive way. They would discuss any subject just for the sport of it, and they still did.
Mike would usually withdraw to the kitchen and help his mother. He often brought homegrown vegetables or herbs for her and together they would clean them up in a comforting silence.

One evening the whole family was gathered for dinner, Mike was the only one of the siblings still living at home but his sisters were both visiting. His father made a rather unfunny homophobic joke and to everyone’s surprise, Mike raised his voice. In some very well articulated points, he put his father in place. They were all baffled, not with Mike’s opinions, but that he had had one at all. Mike was the most surprised of them.

Now he had to bite his lip as prosecutor Nai’zest Qalong rambled on and on about the evil of mankind.
‘A species that are known to pollute the common space and-‘
‘Objections! Ouch!’
‘You must wait until you are asked a question, human Williams,’ Nai’zest said tiredly.
‘But why did you-ouch – call me to the stand-ouch if not to ask me anything-ouch but just give a speech? OUCH!’ Mike gave the clapper an irritated glare. The clapper, on the other hand, didn’t seem to acknowledge Mike’s presence.
‘Very well, human Williams. Here is a question for you. Is it true, that a human on Earth has recently shot a car – a human vehicle – into space?’
‘Erh, yes but-‘
‘And is it true, that said human, or any human for that matter, has not filed an official application to shoot garbage into common space, that being space not belonging to the area of Planet Earth?’
‘Erh… I think the answer is… yes? But how co-‘

Mike was cut off by the sound of a 50’s electrical guitar blasting through the room. All the council members started talking and turning around just as confused about the music as Mike.
‘And who,’ shouted Nai’zest who was the only one not thrown off by the music, this was clearly a part of his plan. ‘Who is Johnny? And why must he be good?’
Mike recognized the song, Johnny B. Goode, just as Nai’zest muted it again, the sudden silence after the sound-blast was a relief.
Damn well-played, Mike thought. Though he didn’t have the slightest clue what the point of this stunt was. The entire council starred at him for an answer, not only to the question but to clear the music-incident as well.
‘I don’t know, sir. It’s just a song.’
‘Then why did you blast this noise, this sound pollution, into space?’
‘We did?’ Mike asked confused. He felt like he was a guest on the weirdest quiz show ever. A quiz show with no prize but a deathly penalty if he lost.

‘You did indeed! A species who think this is music must-‘
‘Objections!’ Morgan Freeman had finally risen from his seat. ‘This is irrelevant as it is a matter of musical taste. I’m sure no one here is about to sentence a species on their taste in music.’ He gave an indulgent laughter. ‘As I recall, the deep-sea elves from Fhaves enjoys frequencies that would burst the eardrums on most creatures. This council is, and have always been, a protector of diversity.’
The furry judge made a hand gesture and said in a low growling voice:
Morgan Freeman made a thankful nod.
‘I ask for a break to talk to my client.’
The toad-looking judge snapped his long fingers twice.
’15 minutes break!’

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