Dale considered. He kept his face impassive; the only sound in the room was the soft wheeze of his breathing. "My race, of course, shouldn’t be a factor — and I accept that it is not. But a reality that faces people of who cry race is the march of time. You’re still a reasonably young man, Dr. Nobilio, but I’m just a few years shy of my allotted threescore and ten. I’ve got a cabin in Georgia that I’ve been planning to retire to. This could be an extremely complex and drawn-out case."

"I can’t deny that," said Frank. "And I can’t say that you need this case as a capstone; you will be remembered for a dozen major cases."

Dale’s voice was dry. "Only a dozen?" He was quiet for a time, then: "I require a retainer of fifty thousand dollars. My fee is five hundred dollars an hour for my time, plus two hundred dollars an hour for my associate’s time, plus expenses."

"Now, ah, that’s a problem."

"You were expecting me to work pro bono?"

"No, no — you deserve to be paid; I understand that. But the Tosoks don’t have any money, and of course my office can’t be seen as getting involved."

"What do you propose?"

"Tosok technology will, of course, be introduced into Earth society; Captain Kelkad has agreed to patent the technology aboard his starship, and to pay you for your services a fee equal to one-quarter of one percent of all income generated from licensing that technology."

"In perpetuity?" said Rice. "And not contingent on the outcome of the case?"

"In perpetuity," agreed Frank. "And you get it whether you win or lose." He smiled. "Before you know it, you may be richer than Bill Gates."

"I don’t crave money, Dr. Nobilio, but…"

"But think of all the good you could do with it."

Dale nodded. "Very well."

"You’ll take the case?"

"I will."

"Thank you. Thank you. When can you see Hask?"

"Where is he? Parker Center?"

Frank nodded.

"I’ll have Karen clear my afternoon." He rose again, slowly, ponderously.

"Let’s go."

Frank got up. "We’ll want to go over his alibi, of course."

Dale had moved out from behind his wide oak desk. He placed a giant hand on Frank’s forearm. "There is no ‘we,’ son."

Frank blinked. "Pardon?"

"You’re not an attorney. You can’t be with Hask when I speak to him."

Frank’s eyes narrowed. "What? Why?"

"Because conversations between him and me are privileged — but only if they’re in private. If they’re not, then any of the participants — yourself, but also him or me — are subject to subpoena."

"But I want to be in on this. Hell, the president wants me to be in on this."

"I understand — but you cannot."

"Can’t you — I don’t know — deputize me? Something like that?"

"Make you an agent, you mean. No, I can’t do that — after all, there’s a reasonable likelihood that you’ll be called as a witness by one side or the other." Dale began to move toward the mahogany doors to his office.

"Sorry, son, but you’ve hired me, and now you’ve got to trust me."

Hask had been placed in a special cell at Parker Center, separate from the other prisoners. But that was the only concession to his unique status. The cell was filthy, with graffiti scrawled on its walls. There was a toilet and a sink, both in plain view. There was also a chair, but it wasn’t suitable for a Tosok, so Hask had been standing for hours, his back hand grasping one of the bars for support.

Frank Nobilio and Dale Rice approached the cage, and the guard let them inside.

"Frank!" said Hask, his tuft moving excitedly. "Thank you for coming back."

"Hask, I apologize for all this," said Frank. "These people — the police — they’ve obviously made a terrible mistake. We’ll get this all straightened out." A beat. "Let me introduce you to your lawyer. Dale Rice, meet Hask."

"The name again?" said Hask.

"Rice," said Frank. "R-I-C-E. Dale. D-A-L-E." He looked at the other human.

"The Tosoks sometimes have trouble parsing human names."

"Greetings, Mr. Rice," said Hask. "You are the person who can get me out of here?"

’You may call me Dale. And I’ll do everything I can."

"I will be grateful. Let me—"

’Wait. Frank, you have to leave now."

Frank frowned. "All right. Hask, I’ve got some other business to attend to, anyway, but I’ll come back to talk to you when you and Dale are finished."

"I want you here," said Hask.

"Not possible," said Dale. "Hask, under our law, private conversation between an attorney and his client are privileged. That means they can never be introduced in court — but only if the conversations are private.

You’ll meet my associate, Ms. Katayama, soon; she’s in court today, but I’ll bring her by tomorrow. But only conversations you have while alone with either her or me are protected under law."

"It’ll be okay," said Frank, to Hask. "Dale is one of the most famous lawyers on this planet." Frank left, and Dale took the one chair; it protested loudly under his massive body.

"I tell you, Dale, I—"

"Shut up."

Hask took a half step backward. "Pardon?"

"Shut up. Shut up. You were about to tell me if you are guilty or innocent, right? Don’t tell me anything unless I ask you. The Supreme Court has ruled that I can’t put you on the stand to testify to your innocence if you’ve already told me you’re guilty; it’s tantamount to suborning."

"Suborning?"

"Inducing a witness to perjure himself."

"But—"

"Not a word, unless I ask for it. Understood?"

Hask’s topknot waved in apparent bewilderment. But at last he said, "Yes."

"How are they treating you?"

"I have no chair that I can use."

"I’ll send someone from my office to bring one for you from the USC dorm."

"I wish to leave this place," said Hask.

"I understand that — and we’re working on that right now. There will be a bail hearing later today. If it’s successful, you will be able to go."

"And this will be over?"

Dale shook his head. "No. No, it won’t. But you’ll be able to rejoin the other Tosoks, and have your liberty until the main trial."

"And when will that occur?"

"That’s the first issue we have to address. You have a right to a speedy trial, but, well, I’m going to ask you to waive that right. We’re going to need time to prepare your defense."

"If, as I am told, I am presumed to be innocent, then why must I mount a defense at all?"

Dale nodded. "Technically, you don’t have to. But the prosecution will present the most compelling case it can. If we don’t try to counter their arguments, they will likely win."

"I have already publicly declared my innocence. What other defense is possible?"

"Well, the simplest defense is just that — saying you didn’t do it. But that means somebody else must have. The security at the USC residence was such that no one could get in or out without being seen. That means somebody inside killed Dr. Calhoun. It had to be either one of the seven Tosoks, or one of the eighteen humans who had access, including the members of the entourage and the LAPD officers. If it can be proved that none of the others did it, then your simple declaration won’t be enough to find you innocent."

"Then we must find the killer."

Dale frowned. "It’s not our responsibility to prove who did do it, and normally I’d not even try — but with so few possible suspects, it’s certainly in our interest to consider the question. Without indicating one way or yhe other whether you yourself really did it, do you know anyone else who might have had reason to kill Calhoun?"

"No."

"A lot of the prosecution’s case will probably hinge on proving that the crimes were committed by a Tosok rather than a human. Do you mink it’s possible that one of the other Tosoks did it?"