"Charles L. Harness-Lethary Fair" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harness Charles L)

upper floors of the Bar-Del-O. Even we kids knew what that meant. Once in a while we saw some of
those girls. They might emerge in the early afternoon, looking very pretty, but dressed modestly in
flowered prints. They might stroll around the Square, or beyond, generally in pairs. Sara was an
exception. When she came out she was always alone. We knew she was a geisha android and was
supposed to have special talents, but we never saw her dressed up in her geisha garb. Outside she
always wore simple street clothes, much like the other girls.
The other girls came and went, but Sara stayed. What was Sara's specialty? What was it that set her
off from other girls and other androids? There were all sorts of rumors, but nothing factual ever seemed
to filter down.
Even as a boy I had this thing about her. Years later, when I started my law practice, I still fantasized.
I wanted her, but I could not bear the thought of sharing her with other men. Maybe one day, when I was
very rich (now there was a fantasy!), I would buy her, have her all to myself.
And now she was gone. No more fantasies. Sad, sad.
Back to now. I called over to the court clerk, Enos Phlutter, and got the details about her that I'd need
for the trial. Enos read snatches from the Android Registrations. Sara, registered as Sakurako ("Cherry
Blossom") had been made by Tokyo Androids, Ltd. and had been sold to a syndicate of Japanese metal
consultants in Houston in 2065.
"For how much?" I asked.
"Three hundred thousand kroner."
I swallowed hard. "Three... hundred..."
"Thousand," finished Enos. "The entry says she was programmed with some sort of high-tech
specialty."
"Worth three hundred thou? Some specialty! Then what?"
"Burl Dogger bought her at auction in 2088 for ten thousand kroner. He died in 2098. His will gave all
his property, including Sara, to his first male descendant to reach twenty-one under the conditions of the
will."
I thought about that. This was the famous Sixtrees will. I knew all about it, or thought I did. Actually, I
didn't. Just then, all I could think was, my mysterious client was headed for prison. For such was the law,
and the Sixtrees and their hired gun, Provincial Prosecutor Dave Clatchett, dearly loved the law.
***


* * *


2. Arraignment

* * *
 Early the next morning I walked over to the jail. The Square was already full of people waiting for the
courtroom doors to open, about half being our local citizenry and half out-of-towners who had come for
the Fair. They all now welcomed the forthcoming trial as a free side-show.
And the minions of the media were also arriving. Word of the two-headed Alien had traveled around
the world.
"Midnight" Madison, our local TV reporter, was already arguing loudly with Deputy Lon Satters,
insisting on the right to interview the prisoner with his camera crew, but Lon was not impressed.
As I worked my way through the crowd, my attention was drawn to overhead, where a copter was
hovering and making a great racket. The markings were clearly visible: "MBC," meaning Mogul
Broadcasting Company, or, as some claimed, Mather's Bullshit Capers. Whichever, our Alien was now
officially newsworthy. For MBC was Randolph Mather.
I watched his show later that day. There, he's interviewing our famous seer, Madame Batsky, in the