Chapter 30 Dom #2
Law-rah’s voice low but steady as she speaks, addressing the court.
“On Earth, in my country, we believe a person is innocent until they are proven to be guilty. They are proven guilty through evidence presented to a jury of their peers, and these individuals must be satisfied beyond any doubt as to their guilt.”
She takes a shuddering breath. She’s nervous, yes, but she won't let that dull her edge. She's so strong.
"Ladies of the court, my argument is twofold. One, that we don’t even know whether a murder took place. I agree a tragic death occurred, but there is no evidence to suggest her passing was tampered with in any way.”
“There was a substance foreign to Oloria in her system—” Samara begins, but the Voice cuts in.
“The prosecution remains silent at this time, Prif Samara.”
Samara looks like she’s tasted something awful, lips twisting, but she doesn’t offer more.
“As I was saying,” Law-rah continues, “there’s no evidence, because the report doesn’t exist. Imaya, an esteemed scientist in your ranks, has kindly scoured all records for me, and agrees that there is no factual, written evidence to suggest Katyen’s passing was anything other than natural.
I am not sure where this rumor first began, but I hope you agree that we cannot base judgements on anything other than cold, hard fact, and not on a feeling. ”
She’s glorious. If I could see her aura with this collar on, no doubt it would be glowing with a bright pure light. Pride wells hot inside my chest watching her work. I try again to reach out to her to strengthen her, stretching my hand toward her. ‘Law-rah, you're doing brilliantly. You shine.’
But she doesn't glance at me. She can’t hear me through this collar.
She continues, “I present further evidence that exonerates this clone."
She holds out a small holo-projector that hums to life, casting ghostly images into the air above us.
I watch as numbers play out—scans of chip data, holograms of places I’ve never seen but recognize immediately.
A compound for powerful females, where Katyen likely resided, and the Milagrove tree, a place of healing where she was treated.
"Look closely," Law-rah says, her voice resonant and firm, her words filling the silent courtroom. "The evidence does not lie. This clone’s chip number was not present at the scene.”
My own chip number, 3D0M, doesn’t appear on the screen above, but one of the flickering numbers nags at me. A4TU43. Once at the complex. Where have I seen that designation before?
Law-rah’s voice drags me back to my case. “Moreover, I have data on where he was at the time.”
Lines and images flicker up, painting a map above us. The cargo bays, offworld, then back to the offloading facilities before relaunching again. We were running ourselves beyond exhaustion to find what we could.
“He was elsewhere, far away from any potential crime. You can see it here, plain as day, or perhaps I should say plain as data." She takes a shuddering breath. I want to wrap my arms around her and congratulate her.
A murmur stirs through the room, uncertainty flickering in the eyes of some of the onlookers. But doubt remains heavy in others, stubborn and unyielding. A deep-seated prejudice that no evidence seems capable of erasing.
The Voice speaks. “All women, please vote. Do you believe this clone to be innocent?”
A shimmering projection appears above the court, the votes tallying in real time as each woman casts her decision.
My heart clenches as the numbers tick upward, a slow and painful climb.
The initial count is grim: 40% for my innocence, the rest against. Despite everything Law-rah has shown them, the females are reluctant to believe.
My human stands still. Behind her eyes, I can guess at what’s happening: her secret room, shaking, crumbling, tumbling at her feet. I hope she can rebuild. I want her to. She has to live on.
The Voice says, “Any final words from the defense before sentence is passed?”
Law-rah steps forward, her voice ringing with conviction.
“I will only say this. I’m not appealing to your hearts, but to your minds.
Any system, any decision, needs to be based on facts.
The fear over clones may be just that—fear.
Do you really want to cause upheaval to your comfortable lives on the basis of a supposition?
Have you truly examined the evidence, or are you letting bias cloud your judgment?
The truth is here, right in front of you.
What if this were you on trial? Or one of your True Born?
Would you rather be sentenced on facts, or suspicion? ”
She sets her hands on my arm, and my scales flow, softening for her. Warmth seeps from her to me.
“You did what you could, Law-rah. Thank you for—”
“We’re not done.” Law-rah scowls. “Don’t you dare give up! It’s not over yet, Dom. Look.”
Females in the crowd exchange uncertain glances. It must be Law-rah’s words, sinking in.
Then, slowly, the numbers begin to change.
One by one, their votes shift, the balance tipping.
51%. Innocent.
My chest floods with a swell of relief. It’s enough… barely enough.
Then Prif Samara says, “Wait.”