Illegal Alien

Someone in the courtroom snickered, presumably at the mental picture of eyes marching along. Brisbee ignored the sound. "The evolutionists," he went on, his voice filling the courtroom as it had so many churches, "say complex structures, such as feathers, must have evolved by steps: first as scales for insulation, which then perhaps elongated into a frayed coat to aid running animals in catching small insects inside this fringe, and only then, fortuitously, would the proto-bird discover, lo and behold, that they were also useful for flight. I don’t believe that for one moment, but it’s the kind of stuff they spout. But that argument falls down completely when we contemplate God’s masterwork, the human eye! What good is half an eye? What good is a quarter of an eye? An eye either is an eye, or it isn’t; it can’t evolve in steps."

Brisbee beamed out at the courtroom. They were all his flock. "Consider the finest camera you can buy today. It’s still not nearly as effective as our eyes. Our eyes adjust automatically to wide variations in lighting — we can see by the light of a crescent moon, or we can see by the brightest summer’s sun. Our eyes can adjust easily between natural light, incandescent light, and fluorescent light, whereas a photographer would have to change filters and film to accommodate each of those. And our eyes are capable of perceiving depth better than any pair of cameras can, even when aided by a computer. A basketball player can routinely determine the precise distance to the hoop, throwing perfect shot after perfect shot. Yes, I can see why the Tosok took the human’s eye as a souvenir—"

"Now, now, Reverend," said Dale. "You don’t know that that’s what happened."

"I can see," continued Reverend Brisbee, somewhat miffed, "why anyone from anywhere would admire the human eye, as a sterling example of God’s craftsmanship."

At nine a.m. the next morning, Dale and Frank entered Judge Pringle’s chambers. Linda Ziegler was already there, as were juror number 209 — a pudgy white woman of forty-one — and a man Dale had seen around the courthouse over the years but didn’t know. A moment later Judge Pringle entered, accompanied by a stenographer. Pringle waited for the stenographer to get set up, then said, "Mr. Wong, will you please introduce yourself to the others?"

"Ernest Wong, representing Juror 209."

"Thank you," said the judge. "Let the record show that also present are Ms. Ziegler for the People, and Mr. Rice for Mr. Hask, who is not here. Also present with my permission is Dr. Frank Nobilio, American delegate to the Tosok entourage. Now, Juror 209, good morning to you."

"Good morning, Judge," said Juror 209, her voice nervous.

"Okay," said Judge Pringle, "Juror 209, your attorney is here. Feel free to stop me anytime you want to consult with Mr. Wong, and Mr. Wong, of course anytime you wish to interpose an objection or make an inquiry, you are entitled to do so."

"Thank you," said Wong.

"Now, Juror 209, some questions have been raised." Pringle held up a hand, palm out. "I’m not saying you’ve done anything wrong, but when questions are raised relating to juror conduct or juror impaneling, the appellate law here in California requires me to make an investigation, so that’s what we’re doing. Okay? Okay. You were asked to fill out a questionnaire prior to serving on this jury, correct?"

"That’s right."

"Did you fill out the questionnaire truthfully?"

"Objection!" said Wong. "Calls for self-incrimination."

Judge Pringle frowned. "Very well. Juror 209, we have a problem here. Question 192 on the jury questionnaire asked if you had ever seen a flying saucer. Do you recall that question?"

"I don’t recall a question using that term, no, Your Honor."

Judge Pringle looked even more irritated. "Well, let me read the question to you." She rummaged on her desk, looking for the questionnaire. Linda Ziegler rose to her feet, her copy in hand. Pringle motioned for her to bring it forward. The judge took the sheaf of papers, flipped through it until she found the appropriate page, and read, " ‘Have you ever seen a UFO?’ Do you recall that question?"

"Yes."

"You recall it now," said Pringle.

"I’ve always recalled it — but you asked me about flying saucers, not UFOs."

Pringle was getting more annoyed by the minute. "What’s the difference?"

"A UFO is an unidentified flying object. By definition, it’s something the nature of which you don’t know."

"And you put on your survey that you’d never seen a UFO."

"That’s right."

"The Court has received a letter from a member of the Bay Area chapter of MUFON. That’s the… the—"

"The Mutual UFO Network," said Juror 209.

"Yes," said Pringle. "A member of the Bay Area chapter of the Mutual UFO Network, saying that you were a speaker at one of their meetings about eight years ago. Is that true?"

"Yes. I lived in San Rafael back then."

"What was the subject of your talk?"

"My abduction experience."

"You were kidnapped?" said Pringle.

"Not that kind of abduction. I was taken aboard an alien spacecraft."