Chapter 2: GATHERING OF THE COURT
"Honorable Tribunal. If I may have a moment to confer with my client," the mystery man requested.
"Granted," the booming voice decreed.
"Come on Hank. Get up," the mystery man said as he pulled on Hank's right upper arm. Hank finally, but still reluctantly, stood up. He tilted his head to the left and checked his neck with his right hand. The wound Drusilla had created was gone.
"Stop fidgeting, Hank. You're fine," the man said as he helped dust off Hank's coat. Hank got his first real look at his new benefactor. The man standing in front of him looked like he just stepped off the cover of G.Q. Magazine. He was tall, about 6-feet Hank guessed, with well-groomed brown hair and perfect white teeth. He was Caucasian, with a hint of European, or maybe Italian, skin tones. He had brown eyes, handsome facial features, and a 'strong chin' as Hank's father use to say. Adding to the unknown man's mystery was his clothes. He wore a dark blue, designer, business suit with a tan dress shirt, matching dark blue tie, and expensive black Italian loafers. The suit alone would be at least $500 from a designer men's store.
"Alright. Who are you? And just what the hell is going on?" Hank asked.
"I'm Rick. Rick Lansing," the now-named mystery man stated as he held out his hand, "and I'm your champion in the case you're bringing before the Tribunal."
"Champion?" Hank questioned. He did not shake the man's hand.
"Yes," Rick replied as he put his hand down. "I bring your request to the court, help you understand the court's rules, gather your witnesses, and speak on your behave."
"You're a lawyer?"
"Exactly. Consider me to be your lawyer and consider this to be a legal case that you want to bring before this court."
Lawyer? Hank thought. This guy looks more like a male model than a lawyer.
"Male model or not, I'm all you've got."
"What?" Hank asked, completely bewildered.
"You do like to hear me repeat myself don't you? I said 'I am all you have.' "
What the hell? I didn't say that out loud, but somehow he heard it. How could that be?
"I can read your mind Hank," Rick declared. "How do you think I heard your request?"
"Requests? What request?"
"Not to die."
Hank's bewilderment continued.
"You asked not to die. Remember? I think your exact words were, 'This is it! My God, this is really it! I'm gonna die! I'm really gonna die! This is crazy! I can't die now! Not here! Not now! I Don't Want To Die! Please God Don't Let Me Die!' "
Hank was completely floored. Just as Hank was starting to wrap his mind around the idea that someone could read his thoughts, Rick surprised him again by quoting his own thoughts back to him; In Hank's Own Voice!
"How did you do that?" Hank inquired.
"Long story," was Rick's only reply.
Hank paused for a moment. He needed time to understand exactly what was happening.
"OK. Let me see if I've got this right. You're some kind of... angel or whatever... And this is You Bet Your Life, The Home Game."
"Close enough.
"This happens to everyone when they die?"
"Number one you're not dead. Yet. And number two, you're a special case."
"Special case?"
"Yes," Rick replied. Again, he was intentionally keeping his answers short.
"What do you mean by special case?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Why not?"
"What's with all the questions Hank?"
"My life is on the line here. I have a right to ask questions. Now, Who is this Tribunal and what do you mean by special case?"
After a brief internal deliberation, Rick realized Hank was correct. "O.K.," Rick said after a long exhale. "Here's the deal. The Tribunal consists of three otherworldly judges who settle disputes between good and evil. The Powers That Be, aka the good guys, found out that the forces of evil had you targeted. They felt your death would be an ...unnecessary complication... so The Powers decided to go to bat for you and informed the interested parties. The message was received and the interested parties sent someone to protect you. Unfortunately, help arrived just a little too late. Drusilla and her two friends got to you first, so The Powers went to Plan B and sent me. As for the rest, just know that there are rules I have to follow. One of them is, I can't tell you everything."
"The Powers That Be? Sent some kind of guardian? The guardian failed, so they sent you?"
"Yes. They need the Slayer's mind focused on..." Rick cut himself off, "Enough with the questions. OK."
Rick's last comment triggered a memory. Hank's mind flashed back to the attack in the alley.
Flashback"This is for the Slayer," Drusilla whispered in his ear just before she bit deep into his neck.
Back to the present
"Right before she bit me," Hank recalled. "That crazy English chick said, 'This is for the Slayer.' I don't know anybody with that name. Who is this Slayer person? And how can my death affect someone I don't even know?"
"Look Hank," Rick stated coldly. "You asked not to die. The Powers want you to live. They sent me here to help. I got you this trial. We win you get to live; we lose, you die. That is all you need to know."
The conversation between the two men was interrupted when the ground began to rumble and a strong wind blew. A large stone stage emerged from the ground. The Tribunal had returned. Both men turned to face the alley's new arrivals.
Hank was never the kind of man who believed in the supernatural. When Buffy was 14, she started having scary dreams about monsters and demons. Hank figured it was just a phase. When she started talking about seeing monsters at her school, he thought she was just acting out. He figured she was jealous of the attention he and Joyce were giving Dawn. When she started accusing classmates and teachers of being vampires, he began to worry about his daughter's mental health. He suggested, and Joyce agreed, that Buffy see a specialist. When she got caught fighting with a boy from her school she said was a vampire, Hank went from being concerned to being scared. But when the boy disappeared, that was when Hank's worst fear came true. His daughter had lost her grip on reality. He and Joyce decided to have Buffy committed. This was the first time in his life he has ever questioned that decision.
What Hank's eyes told him were true, his mind was having a hard time accepting. But, at the same time, it could not be denied. What he saw could only be called one thing, magic. Hank watched in awe as a major part of the alley was transformed into a makeshift courtroom. In the spot where the exit to 8th Street once was, a large stone stage with three male-like figures in three gold and velvet thrones now stood. All of the "men" had their faces covered by black veils; only their eyes were visible. All three of them wore long black robes that covered their entire bodies. They appeared to be hundreds of years old. Their skin was wrinkled and weathered.
"Honorable Tribunal," Rick said as he bowed in their direction. "Thank you for agreeing to hear us." The Tribunal returned his respectful greeting.
"We Call Forth The Remaining Members Of This Council."
Just then, a thunderclap was heard and lightning rendered the air as another magical entity entered the alley. A giant human-looking head materialized next to the judge's stage. It looked as if it was made out of water. It was almost transparent. It flowed and moved like a rippled refection in a lake as it hovered next to the Tribunal's stage. The giant head did not look happy. In fact, it looked downright mad.
"What the hell is that thing?" Hank whispered to Rick.
"That's Osiris, the Keeper of Darkness and guardian of the souls of the dead. He controls the doorway between this world and the next."
"Why is ...he... here?"
"If we lose Osiris is going to take your soul to the next world."
"Holy Crap!" Hank said. His voice was no longer a whisper, it was loud and full of panic. "You're telling me if we lose that thing gets my soul!"
"Don't freak out Hank," Rick reassured. "Consider him to be the bailiff."
"Since when do bailiffs get to keep your soul?"
"Osiris doesn't keep souls. He just transports them to the realm of the dead so they can face their judgment. He, just like the Tribunal, is completely indifferent."
Rick returned his focus to the Tribunal. "My I begin," he inquired of the court.
"No. All Are Not Present," The Tribunal decreed.
"Not present? Honorable Tribunal, all of the necessary forces are here; no other parties are needed."
"Think again Lansing," a female voice said. Hank felt a moment of worry; once again there was a female voice that came out of nowhere. Pain-filled memories of Drusilla's recent attack flooded his mind.
Suddenly, there was a strong smell of ozone in the air as a large circle of green and blue energy appeared to the left of the stage. A woman emerged from the pool of light. Both Hank and Rick turned to look at the new arrival.
"Damn it," Rick said under his breath.
"Who's the babe in the power suit?" Hank asked.
"Lilah Morgan. Attorney for Wolfram & Hart," the new arrival stated to the Tribunal. "I will be representing the defense."
"Defense! Rick. What's going on? You look like someone just kicked you in the balls. Who is she? Why is she here?"
"I'm here to insure your death Mr. Summers," Lilah coldly stated to Hank.
Hank studied her for a moment. She had long brown hair, green eyes, and a beautiful face. She was tall, with a slim build, and extremely attractive. Her clothes complimented her slim figure nicely. She wore a black and gray power suit with matching shoes.
This Lilah chick is a real hottie, Hank thought. I should have listened when Clare read my Horoscope this morning. I doubt it said I was going to be surrounded by models and nearly killed.
"You never know Hank," Lilah said. "The stars do tell all. Horoscope charts can be full of surprises."
"You can read my mind too, huh?"
"Of course."
Hank looked at Rick. He was surprising quiet. He had not said a word since her arrival.
"What are you doing here Lilah?" Rick asked. His tone was just below that of a command.
"I already said. I'm here to make sure he dies. Like he's suppose to."
"How did you even know about this trial? There's no way you could have found out and then gotten here fast enough. Unless... you arranged it."
Hank did not say a word. He didn't have to. The confused look on his face said it all.
"She set you up Hank. Drusilla and her two large friends. She told them who you are and how to find you."
"Why?" Hank posed the question both of them.
"So she could kill you of course," Lilah responded. She laughed a little at the absurdity of the question. "Dru wants revenge for her lost love and we want the Slayer busy elsewhere. Your death fills both of our needs."
Lilah's last comment triggered another, much older, memory in Hank.
"Lilah Morgan? THE Lilah Morgan? From the IBM vs. Microsoft Case? THAT Lilah Morgan?"
"One and the same," she stated proudly.
"Ohhh Crap!" Hank yelled.
For the first time since this ordeal began, Rick was the confused one.
Hank read Rick's confusion and explained. "Our company acquired a software development firm back in the 90s. They were working on a new operating system for PCs that was extremely stable yet easy to use. Microsoft heard about it and tried to buy us out. We said no, so they launched a hostile takeover. We survived, but just barely. One of the things that saved us was the lawsuit. IBM took Microsoft to court for a bunch of reasons, but the main one was unfair operating system development practices. Gates was basically holding Big Blue hostage. They were supposed to be working on Windows together, but Gates would only dole out their parts of the software after IBM paid them for each individual piece. We needed IBM to win, just to stay alive. The boys at Big Blue had everything they needed to win. Witnesses, documents, memos, even a tape of Gates himself talking about his dirty deals. It was a slam-dunk. Then Microsoft switched legal teams and those Wolfram & Hart sharks took over. Next day, witnesses disappeared or refused to testify, documents vanished, and computers got erased. And then there was John Gordon. He was the head of Microsoft's operating system development branch. He was going to testify against them, but the day before his court appearance, he disappeared. They used every dirty trick in the book and they got away with all of it. And SHE orchestrated the whole thing."
"One of my proudest achievements," Lilah beamed. "The police never found Gordon's body. And they never will. We threw him into a demon dimension. Right into a nest of Kly'ren Spider Demons. They should be done eating him by now."
"Don't ask," Rick said, anticipating Hank's next question.
"Kly'ren Spider Demon like their meat fresh," Lilah clarified. "The spiders hook you up to this feeder thing that shoves a tube into your neck and feeds water and nutrients directly into your stomach. They avoid most of your critical organs and just stick to the muscle. Usually, It's the legs first, then the arms, and then the torso. They can keep a man alive for up to 4 years while they slowly eat your flesh. In other words, they eat you alive. Just like I'm going to do to you Lansing."
Rick and Lilah locked eyes. The two exchanged hostile looks for a few minutes until the Tribunal interrupted.
"State Your Grievances," the Tribunal demanded. "Why Have You Summoned This Court?"
Rick straightened his stance, adjusted his suit, and began to speak. But before he could begin, Lilah beat him to the punch.
"Honorable Tribunal, I bring a formal request to your court stating that this man is unworthy of your mercy."
"Objection! Honorable Tribunal, this woman has no right to be here. By the very act of coming here proves she arranged for Hank Summers to be killed. I petition that she be removed immediately!"
"We arranged for him to be killed because he serves no purpose in this life."
"She admits her crimes. Remove her from these proceeding."
"Silence!" the ground shook from the sound of the Tribunal's anger, "She Will Remain."
"What does that mean?" Hank whispered to Rick.
"It means our chances of winning just dropped... Dramatically."
Hank searched the pockets of his overcoat. He was looking for something he knew he was not going to find.
"You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on you would ya?" Hank requested as he padded the pockets of his overcoat.
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End Chapter 2