"If you make statements, they will be taken down in writing. If what you say can be used to prove your guilt, it will be so used."

"I understand."

"Do you have an attorney?"

Hask looked past Frank to Kelkad. "No."

"Of course he doesn’t have an attorney!" said Frank. "He doesn’t have an accountant, or a dentist, or a personal trainer, either."

Perez turned to the alien captain. "Are you or any of your colleagues qualified to serve as an attorney?"

"No," said Kelkad. "We do not have a system of laws comparable to yours.

Oh, there are intercessors who will entreat God on one’s behalf, and mediators for civil disputes. But we have nothing like your ‘criminal-justice’ system — indeed, I am not even sure I fully understand that term.

Perez turned back to Hask. "Hask, do you desire an attorney?"

"I am not—"

"Say yes, Hask," said Frank sharply. "Say yes."

Perez shot Frank a look, but Hask said, "Yes."

"All right, then. Come with me," said Perez.

"Suppose I choose not to?" asked Hask.

Perez indicated the four uniformed men. "These gentlemen are armed — do you understand that expression? They carry weapons capable of killing. If you don’t come, they will be forced—"

"Oh, for Christ’s sake, Lieutenant," said Frank. "You’re not going to open fire!" He turned to Hask. "There’s probably no way they can compel you to go with them." He swung on Perez. "Diplomatic immunity. Lieutenant."

Perez’s gaze was unblinking. "What immunity, Doctor? There are no treaties between the United States and the Tosok government."

"But—"

"This is a completely righteous collar."

"How are you going to make him go?" asked Frank. "You can’t shoot him."

Perez turned to Hask. "Hask, Dr. Nobilio is right. We won’t use physical force to take you into custody. But I do have the power to prevent the materials needed to repair your mothership from being delivered. And I have the authority to order you to accompany me. Will you do so?"

Kelkad finally spoke. "My subordinate denies killing Clete."

Perez did a little half bow. "I mean no disrespect, sir, but that’s not an unusual response in circumstances such as these."

Kelkad’s natural voice rose as it always did, but his translated voice was absolutely even. "I vouch for my crew member."

"You will have an opportunity to do that in the appropriate venue at the appropriate time."

"But—"

"I will go," said Hask. "We need their help; cooperation is appropriate."

"You better know what the hell you’re doing, Lieutenant," said Frank. "You better know exactly what you’re doing."

"Thank you, Doctor. Now, unless you’re aiding this being in resisting arrest—"

"Don’t push it, Perez."

"And don’t push me, Doctor. A man is dead. You’re the one who is in over his depth." He turned again to Hask. "Come with me."

Hask began to move.

"Don’t worry," said Perez. "We’ll get you a lawyer."

"A legal-aid lawyer?" said Frank. "Jesus Christ, talk about being in over one’s depth! Hask, don’t say a word to anyone. Do you hear me? Not a word until we get a lawyer for you."

Frank immediately returned to his room and began making calls on his cellular, talking to a dozen different people in Washington. Two hours later the first phone call he’d made was returned. He put the phone to his now stubble-covered cheek. "Nobilio," he said.

"Dr. Nobilio, please hold for Olympus."

Frank waited through about a minute of static, then the familiar voice came on. "Frank?"

"Hello, Mr. President."

"Frank, we’ve got a problem here, don’t we?"

"Yes, sir. I’m afraid we do."

"The phones here have been ringing off the hook, ever since CNN reported the arrest. There’s not a single country on Earth that’s happy about California wanting to try one of the aliens."

"I can imagine, sir," said Frank. "I’m not a lawyer, but does California even have jurisdiction?"

"Murder is only a federal issue if it’s committed on federal lands, against federal officials, or if a fugitive crosses state lines," said the president, himself a lawyer. "None of those conditions pertain here." He sighed.

"Several ambassadors have asked why we just didn’t sweep this whole Calhoun mess under the rug, and—"

"No, sir."

"Pardon, Frank?"

"No— look, sir, Clete was my friend. He—" Frank paused, surprised to hear his own voice crack. "He was a good man, sir, and a good friend. I— I can understand the international feeling that maybe we’re going too far in prosecuting an extraterrestrial, but we should not forget Calhoun. Not ever, sir."

"I know," said the president gently. "And, as my aides have tried to explain to the foreign ambassadors, we’ve got a strict separation between the executive and legislative branch. I can’t be seen to be interfering with a court case, but…"

"Yes, sir?"

’’Well, it’s not that long until Super Tuesday. The vice-president had already agreed to appear on Primetime Live tonight before this broke; Sam Donaldson is sure to skewer him. Everybody seems to be asking why Washington didn’t prevent this mess in the first place."

"I understand," said Frank. "Who are you sending out here to handle things?"

"Nobody, Frank. You’re it. You’re my man."

"Me, sir?"

"I’d love to fly half the attorney general’s office out there, but it’d be suicide for me to be seen to be meddling directly. You’re already there, and as part of the Tosok entourage, you’ve got a legitimate role apparently unrelated to the murder case. You’re going to have to coordinate a defense for Hask, without being seen to be involved at all."

"What about money, sir? I’ll need to hire a lawyer."

"That’s a problem. We can’t be seen to be underwriting the defense in any way."

Frank sighed, contemplating the magnitude of the task now facing aim. "I’ll do my best, sir."

"I know you will, Frank."

Olympus clicked off.

Frank went to Kelkad’s room in Valcour Hall. "Captain," he said, "we will require money to hire a lawyer to defend Hask."

"Money?" said Kelkad. "That green paper stuff? I am sure Engineer Rendo can replicate whatever we need aboard the mothership."

Frank allowed himself his first faint smile since the murder. "No, you can’t do that. Duplicating money is a crime."

"Oh. We have none of our own."

"I know," said Frank. "But I think I know a way…"

During his sixty-seven years of life, Dale Rice had heard the name for what he was change from Colored to Negro to Black to African-American. When he’d been born, there were still people alive who had been called slave.

Dale had white hair but black eyebrows, and large pouches of skin beneath his rheumy eyes. His nose was wide and misshapen. His three-hundred-pound body resembled an Aztec step pyramid; over it, he usually wore a charcoal-gray Armani suit, the pants held up by suspenders.

His wide, smooth face had seen a lot of history. Dale had been born in Montgomery, Alabama. He was a young man in 1955 when Rosa Parks was arrested there for refusing to give up her seat on a bus for a white man.

In 1961, Dale had become a Freedom Rider, testing the Supreme Court’s order outlawing segregation in bus terminals. When the bus he was on pulled into Anniston, Alabama, a mob of white men with clubs, bricks, metal pipes, and knives was waiting. The bus was firebombed, and as the black and white passengers escaped they were savagely beaten; it was during this fight that Dale’s nose had been broken.

In 1965, he and two hundred and fifty thousand other people marched on Washington, D.C., and heard the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., give his "I Have a Dream" speech.

Dale Rice had known King, and he’d known Malcolm X. He knew Jesse Jackson and Louis Farrakhan. There were those who called him the top civil-rights lawyer in the United States. Dale himself thought that was probably true; he also thought it very sad that after all this time the United States still needed civil-rights lawyers.