Down for the Count, twelfth part: Reiterate
by Deb H
Tuesday 04 September 3004
I had yesterday all planned out. I talked to Fry first. Then the Turangas. Then I went to the police.
Talking to Fry was the easiest, because he already knew what happened.
But in some ways, it was also the hardest.
We were having breakfast that morning when Fry aksed me, "So what do you want to do today?"
I sighed.
"Something the matter?" he aksed.
"Fry, listen," I said. "I'm... I'm sorry."
"The ambassador thing?" he aksed. "It's okay. That's no biggie."
"It's... it's not that."
"Oh."
"Fry... I'm sorry about... about Leela."
"What?"
"I fucked up," I told him. "I know I did. I totally fucked it all up. It was... that is totally not what I meant to do."
Suddenly, I felt his hands taking mine.
I started to say, "I... I feel like I..."
"What?" he aksed.
"I... well, I never said it, Fry. I just, you know, never said it."
"Sure you did. You told me what happened."
"Well, yeah, I told you. But I've never said this."
"Said what?"
"I never said that I'm sorry. Fry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I killed Leela. I'm sorry I fucked everything up. I mean, I wish I... I wish there was, like, a giant undo button I could hit. But there isn't."
"Yeah," Fry said. "And if there was, it would have unintended consequences. Like that one time on The Scary Door when the guy invented the giant undo button, only when he used it, it undid him inventing it."
"Fry, shut up for a second," I said. "I'm trying to tell you..."
I stopped, pulled my hands free of his, and tried to wipe my tears away.
He got me some tissues and helped me clean myself up a bit. It didn't really seem to help a lot, though.
"Thanks, Fry," I said.
He kissed me.
That almost made me start to cry again.
But I managed to keep my emotions in check for just a bit longer.
"So... yeah," I said. "I'm sorry. I fucked everything up, and I'm sorry, and I... well, I was hoping that maybe you'd... maybe you'd forgive me."
"Forgive you?"
"Yeah. Could... could you? I mean, I know it's a big thing. I know it's, well, I did kill your one true love. I'd... I'd understand if you can't. If you... if you think it's too big. I'd be okay with that. Really. But I was hoping that..."
I trailed off, shaking my head a bit.
"Amy?"
"Yeah?"
"I have."
"What do you have?"
"No, I mean, I already have. I already forgove you."
"'Forgove'?"
"Yeah."
"It's 'forgave'."
"Pretty sure it's 'forgove'," he said.
"It's not," I told him.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, Fry."
"Oh. Well, I've forgaven you too. So it's okay."
"Really?" I aksed.
"Of course, Amy."
He wrapped his arms tight around me. I held onto him, just as tightly, as we kissed.
"I love you, Fry," I said.
"I love you," he answered, giving me another kiss.
"So do you want to come to Earth with me?" I aksed him.
"You mean, fly you to Earth?"
"Yeah. Look, I'm... I'm sorry I've been such a burden."
"You're not," he said.
"But... well, you've had to fly me everywhere."
"Yeah, I guess," he said. "But that's not a burden."
"But it's not just that. I mean, like, with the blindness and everything. You know? I pretty much can't do anything by myself."
"It's okay."
"But I... I'm sorry, I've been trying to say."
"It's okay," he answered. "It's not your fault."
"It pretty much is," I replied. "I mean, like, I went out on my own when the quake bomb hit."
"So?"
"So... like... it's my own fault."
"No it's not," he said as he wrapped me in another hug. "Listen, you had to go look for Clara. You couldn't just leave her alone. We had to make sure she was okay."
"Yeah, but..."
"And you're not a burden."
"You're sure?"
"Of course. I don't mind flying you everywhere. I like it."
"Good," I responded. "Because I want to go to Earth and... well..."
"What?" he aksed.
I took a breath. "I want to tell the Turangas."
"Tell them what?"
"That I killed their... their daughter."
From his side of the table, I heard a fork clang against a plate.
"You what?" he aksed me. "You can't tell them that!"
"I have to."
"But they'll..."
"I know," I said. "They won't like it. But I have to."
"You don't have to."
"I... Fry, look. I can't keep covering it up."
"It's not... you're not, like, covering it up. It's different."
I sighed, "It's not different. It's the same. It's exactly the same as a coverup."
"No it's not. You're just not telling them, that's all."
"That's exactly what a coverup is, idiot."
"No, a coverup would be if you lied about it."
"They think that dude killed her. That is a lie."
"Amy, listen. Just... just think about how they're going to react."
"They're going to be fucking pissed, is how they're going to react. You know what they'll think? They'll totally lose it. They're going to want to slice me up into narrow strips, throw those little narrow strips onto the fire, and grill me up with a side of, like, rat feces or something."
"Well, I don't think it'll be that bad," Fry said.
"I do. I think it'll be... anyway, that's not all," I told him.
"What? What's not all?"
"There's something else I have to do today."
He paused, and then he aksed, "What is it?"
"I have to... I have to turn myself in."
"Into what?"
"The cops."
"You want to become a cop? Do they have blind cops? Or are you going to be, like, one of those sound cops? Like Michael Winslow? That would be so awesome! Can I be your cop partner? We could ride around everywhere, and do cop stuff, and bust perps, and talk to guys in furry hats. And we could respond to dispatch! I always wanted to respond to dispatch! I'd be like, 'Roger, we have a 402 in progress at the Seven to the Eleven, ten-four,' and you'd be like, 'Aw yeah, we gonna clean this up like Donny and Marie Osmond, pssssshhh, whoosh whoosh whoosh, fwoooow, weewooweewooweewoo, kawwak kawwak, badalaba-ba-ba, charge!' And I'd be like, 'What do Donny and Marie Osmond have to do with a 402 in progress at the Seven to the Eleven? Are they the suspects?' And you'd be like, 'No, dog, we're Donny and Marie Osmond! Because we're, like, clean and shit!' And I'd be like, 'I don't understand what that means,' and you'd be like, 'I don't either. I dunno why I said it,' and I'd be like, 'Well, we should figure it out before we head in there. Because otherwise our witty banter isn't going to make any sense,' and you'd be like, 'Bro, forget about the witty banter! We got us a 402 in progress at the Seven to the Eleven! We gots to get in there!' And I'd be like, 'You're right. A 402 in progress at the Seven to the Eleven is a sticky situation. We have to be on our toes,' and you'd be like, 'Right. Up periscope! Poong... poong... poong...'"
"Fry!" I shouted.
"What?"
"Will you just... shut the fuck up and let me talk for one second? I have to turn myself in! I killed Leela, remember? Did you think I was just gonna, like, get away with it? I have to serve my time! I have to face the consequences!"
"Consequences?"
"Yeah! Consequences! Everything we do has consequences! Murder is, like, twenty to life, or whatever!"
"But it's not murder."
"So say goodbye now, because I'm going to be locked up for a long time! And they're all going to want to fuck me up, because I'm the new girl, and because I'm the rich girl, and because I'm the cute girl! I've seen enough prison movies! They're going to cut me, and grope me, and beat me, and then they're gonna, I dunno, trade cigarettes for conjugal visits with me, or some shit! I mean, sure, some of that actually sounds kinda hot, but I don't like it that rough! But they're totally gonna treat me like a piece of meat! That's, like, not what I'm into! I only like it a little bit rough! Just the occasional spanking, and maybe a whip here or there! What did you say?"
"I said it's not murder," Fry repeated.
"It's... what?"
"It's self defence," he said.
"Wh... what?"
"You were defending yourself from the guy, right? So you shot him."
"What? No. I... the guy was nowhere near me. I was defending Leela from him."
"But he woulda come after you, right?"
"No, I... maybe. I don't know. But... look, it doesn't matter. Self defence is only if you kill the guy who's threatening you. The guy was threatening Leela. And I killed her, not him."
"You killed him too, didn't you?"
I glared at him and scowled, "Thanks Fry."
"No, but I'm saying, you killed him, which is fine, because he was threatening you. Or at least, you had no way of knowing that he wouldn't. There was just some collateral damage."
"Collateral damage?" I aksed, incredulously. "How is that collateral damage? Killing the person you're trying to save isn't collateral damage! It's fucking up! It's murder!"
"Only if you meant to do it," he responded, in a gentle voice.
"What?"
"Yeah. Murder is, like, Mr Green in the conservatory with the lead pipe, or something."
"Oh," I said. "Yeah, I guess. Well, it's still, like, involuntary manslaughter, or wrongful death, or some shit."
"Maybe," Fry said.
"It is," I insisted.
There was silence for a moment.
"So... will you fly me to Earth?" I aksed him.
"Earth?" he aksed. "Don't you have to go to Canopus 5 to turn yourself in?"
"Do I? I don't know. I thought it was, you know, because Leela's an Earthican, that..."
"I don't think that matters, though," he said. "I mean, like, if you try to go to the police on Earth, they'll be like, 'Dude, that's out of our jurisdiction, yo,' and you'll just be stuck there, because it's based on where the thing happened. Right?"
"I don't know," I said. "I've never killed anyone before."
"Listen," he said. "It wasn't your fault."
"Yeah it was."
"It wasn't."
"It totally was," I said. "Quit trying to convince me that it wasn't. I know it was."
"Well, can we just agree to disagree?" he aksed.
"No. It was my fault. And you're going to blame me eventually."
"So there's... there's nothing that I can say that'll convince you?"
"No. Come on. Let's just go to Earth and talk to the Turangas. And then I'll go to the cops."
He sighed and said, "Sure. Whatever you want, Amy."
He helped me get dressed in my new work clothes, and then we left for Earth.
A couple of weeks ago, Fry and Vyolet helped me pick out a new set of clothes for me to wear to the office that Fry and I shared in the clinic. We found some slacks that I had liked but hadn't really had a chance to wear yet.
Vyolet wanted me to find a variety of coloured blouses to go with them, but I just wanted a plain white shirt.
"You don't want something you can change around?" she aksed.
"Like what?" I aksed her.
She suggested things like jackets, scarves, and ties to go with it. Even neckerchiefs. I kept saying no. Those things weren't appealing to me any more.
"What about these?" I heard Fry say.
"What about what?" Vyolet aksed him.
He had been rummaging around in the boxes filled with stuff that we took from my old apartment in New New York. He came over to me and put something in my hands.
"What are they?" I aksed. They felt thin and silky.
"Vests," Vyolet said.
"Vests?" I repeated.
Fry said, "Yeah. That one's red. You have a bunch of different colours here."
I put on the red one and turned to the others.
They didn't say anything.
"Well?" I aksed them. "What do you think?"
I heard a high whistle, followed by a snort.
"It doesn't make you look like a boss," Vyolet said.
I responded, "Well, I don't want to look like a boss."
She said, "No, I didn't think you did. So, yeah, I think that's good for you. Makes you look... approachable. You know? Not like a suit. It's like, you still look like you're in charge, but you're the kind of boss who keeps her office door open. The kind who knows everybody's birthdays and celebrates them by inviting everyone to a happy hour after work at the local bar. Somebody that people want to work for."
I nodded. "What about you, Fry?"
"Hm?"
"What do you think of this?"
"I like it. It looks good."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Would you want to work for me?"
"Yeah," he answered. "Of course. I'll work for you any time."
"So what do you have to tell us?" Mr Turanga aksed me.
I turned to him, surprised.
"It must be something important," he added. "Why else would you be here so late?"
"Well, our planet has a different clock," Fry said. "So, you know, we had to come early in the morning. For us, I mean."
It was a little after 21:00 in New New York. Back in Jenningsville, it was about 09:30.
Mr Turanga said, "So you don't have something to tell us?"
I told him, "No, you're right. I do have something to tell you."
Fry sat next to me on the couch and held my hands.
By now I knew what his hands felt like. I knew the way they felt across my hand, the way they laced their fingers with mine, the way they twitched after a few Slurms.
His grip was totally familiar.
"It's about Leela," I said. "It's about how she..."
Fry's hand was a calming influence, but not enough to make it any easier to talk to them.
"How she died," I finally said. "Look, I... there's something I haven't told you. Leela went to go meet that... that guy. So she was there for a while, and when she finally came back, she was running. She was running toward our ship, and she called me and said to get a weapon. And I did. I got, like, a gun, and I went down the steps, and I looked around, and then... and then I saw her. The guy was chasing behind her. And then she... and then the guy caught her. And he had his hands around her neck, and... and I knew there wasn't much time... and..."
There was silence for a moment.
Later, Fry told me that Mrs Turanga was glaring at Mr Turanga.
He said it was the same look that Leela used to give him when he fucked up a delivery.
Fry thought that Mrs Turanga knew what I was going to say. I didn't think that made sense – why had she been so nice to me up until then?
Finally, I said, "I took the shot. I... I took the shot. It wasn't him. He didn't even have a gun. I shot... well, I was trying to shoot the guy. I did. I did shoot him. But I also... I wasn't all that close, and they were close together, and I guess my hand wasn't steady, and..."
"You killed her," I heard Mrs Turanga say, in a faint whisper.
"It... it was an accident," I responded.
I heard a momentary squelchy sound, which I guessed was tentacles against the arms of a chair. Then I heard footsteps going up the stairs behind me.
"Just a minute," Mr Turanga said. Then there were more footsteps going up the stairs, these at a slower pace.
Fry put his arms over my shoulders. I held on tight and let him try to wipe away my tears.
"They hate me now," I said.
"No they don't."
"They totally do."
"They don't," he answered. "They just need some time to come to terms with it."
"How long?" I aksed. "Am I gonna have to go freeze myself like you did? You can come with me. Wanna come to the year 4000 with me?"
"I've been there," he said.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I've been to the year 4000. Remember? With Michelle?"
"That was LA."
"Yeah, LA in the year 4000. Although it surprised me a little bit. I thought they woulda fixed the 405 by then."
"Whatever. Look, Fry. They hate me. They're pissed off that I killed her. And that I lied to them."
"Amy, come on. You didn't lie to them. You just didn't tell the truth."
"That's the same thing, asshole."
"It doesn't matter," he said. "They'll forgive you. Just like I forgoved you."
I sighed and held him tighter.
After a few minutes, some footsteps came back down the stairs.
"Hey," Fry said.
"Hey," I heard Mr Turanga say.
"How is she?" Fry aksed.
Mr Turanga said, "She's not too happy."
"Told you," I said to Fry.
But then Mr Turanga added, "But she'll get over it. I know she will. She's just a little mad that you didn't tell us until now."
"See?" I said to Fry.
Fry aksed, "What about you?"
"Me?" I aksed.
"No, him."
"Me?" Mr Turanga aksed.
"Yeah," Fry said. "Are... are you mad at us?"
"Nah," he said.
"Really?" I aksed. "How come?"
"Shit happens," he said.
"Yeah," I replied. "I know it does."
He said, "Well, I know you were trying to help. And, well, I know the things we do don't always turn out how we wanted them to."
"Yeah," I said again.
"Like when we left her up there," he added.
"What?" I aksed. "You mean when you left Leela on the surface? What was wrong with that? She turned out great. She was so... well... she was my... she was my best friend. I..."
I started to cry again, but then someone's arms lifted me off the couch. Not Fry's arms. These arms were more flaky.
I stood up and sank into Mr Turanga's hug.
"It was the right decision," he said. "Of course it was. Don't get me wrong. It's just that, well, it made her feel so alone. She really had trouble dealing with that. Thinking that she was the only one on the planet."
I said, "Yeah, but it, like, made her strong. It made her independent."
Mr Turanga let me go and added, "And it gave her a violent temperament. And it made her too eager to get with guys who were a mess and who weren't any good for her, instead of guys who were always there for her and could help her deal with her problems and not actively make them worse. Not on a permanent basis."
Fry aksed him, "Wait, am I the first kind of guy or the second kind?"
"The second."
"Oh. Good."
"That's the problem," Mr Turanga replied. "She got those two kinds of guys mixed up."
"Yeah," I said. "I guess she did. Anyway... I'm... I'm really happy that you did leave her up there, Mr Turanga."
"Yeah, me too," Fry added.
"Good," Mr Turanga said. "So am I."
I aksed, "Is it okay if I go upstairs and talk to Mrs Turanga for a second?"
There was a pause.
Then I added, "Or is it too soon?"
"Probably too soon," Mr Turanga agreed. "I think she'll need some time."
"I don't have any more time," I said. "After this, I'm going to prison."
"You're what?! What are you going to do?"
"I'm turning myself in."
"Turning yourself in?" he aksed. "For what? What have you ever done?"
I sighed, "The thing I just said."
"Oh, that," Mr Turanga said. "But... but that was an accident. They can't get you for that, can they?"
"Of course they can. Killing somebody by accident is still illegal."
"Still, you can't turn yourself in."
"I have to," I insisted.
"Dude, Fry, tell her. She can't."
Fry answered, "I've been trying all day to talk her out of it. She's pretty sure of it."
"Yeah," I said. "Look, I'm going. Mr Turanga, I'll be back in, like, twenty years. Maybe less, with good behaviour."
"Amy," Mr Turanga said, "you can't go. They need you. On that... on that new planet of yours. They need you."
I answered, "Fry will be there. He'll take care of everything. I trust him."
I held out my arms and waited for a hug from Mr Turanga. He obliged.
"I'm sorry," I said. "Tell her, will you? Tell her that I'm sorry. Both for... you know, what I did, and for not telling you guys."
"I forgive you, Amy."
"Thanks. Maybe your wife will too, someday."
"Munda? Of course she'll forgive you. She just needs a little time."
I let go of Mr Turanga, and then Fry took my hand.
"Come on," I said to Fry. "Let's go."
"Good night," Mr Turanga said as we left. "Good luck."
As Fry led me back to the surface, I thought about that.
I knew there was a possibility that they wouldn't take me into custody. I was sure that there were any number of technicalities they could have used as excuses. So I needed some luck in order to get locked up.
I was fairly certain that that was not what Mr Turanga meant.
Anyway, I went to a police station in New New York and basically held out my arms for them to cuff. I just about demanded that they lock me up.
The desk sergeant refused. He thought it was a gag or something. He was sure that we'd planted hidden cameras.
Eventually he called the chief of police, and then the district attorney. They both agreed to meet with us, but not until the morning.
So Fry and I went back to the Leela. It was still the morning for us, so we hung out there for most of the day.
We watched a couple of movies – that is, Fry watched a couple of movies and I listened to them. Fry kept trying to talk me out of it, and I kept refusing.
"Well, can I at least get you a lawyer?" he aksed me.
"What?" I aksed. "Why would I need a lawyer?"
"Because you're, like, dealing with the law, and whatever. You should have a lawyer."
I said, "Lawyers are supposed to get them to acquit you. I want them to convict me."
"Yeah, but... well... a lawyer could still help you."
"How?"
"I dunno. A lawyer could, like, reduce the charges. You could get a lighter sentence."
"Fry, I don't want a lighter sentence. I want them to send me up the river. I want them to lock me up for as long as they can."
"Why do you... why do you want that?"
"Because I killed Leela," I sighed. "You're a total fucking idiot if you've forgotten about that."
He said, "Doesn't mean you have to have, like, the maximum sentence. Actually, it doesn't mean you have to have any sentence at all."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, the point is to be, like, a deterrent, right?" he aksed. "To make sure you don't do it again. And, well, you feel bad about it."
"What, you want me to go up to the judge and be like, 'Hey, I know I killed my best friend and shit, but I totally feel bad about it!'? And the judge will be like, 'Oh, well, that's okay then!'? You're totally insane if you really think that's going to work."
"Amy..."
"Fry, no lawyers. I mean it."
I reclined on the couch and listened to a couple more movies with him, my arms around him. We didn't talk much for the next few hours.
Finally, it was 09:00 New New York time, and so we went to Citihall to meet with the police chief and the DA.
The DA, Ava Palacios, was an interesting person. She said she was a surrogate mother on a permanent basis, which apparently meant that she was always pregnant. She let me feel her belly.
"That is huge," I said as I ran my hands up and down. "How far along are you?"
"One of them is due in about three weeks."
"One of them?" I aksed. "What do you mean?"
"There's six of them in there. The oldest one is eight months and a week along."
I stammered, "I... I don't... what does that..."
Fry said, "So you can have multiple kids in your womb at different times? That's cool."
She told us, "Well, it's one kid per womb, actually."
"Wait. So you... you have six wombs?" I aksed.
"Yeah. Every six weeks or so, one of them is ready to be born. Then when it is, the doctors implant the next embryo. Then I rotate my wombs."
"You what?"
"Each womb just shifts to the next position," she said. "That way I can give birth to the next one, just in case it's premature."
Last Xmas, LaBarbara told me that she and Hermes had a daughter, for about a month and a half. Dawn had been born premature but didn't survive.
I wondered how many of Ava's children were premature, and if any of them hadn't made it.
I wondered if she even knew if any of them hadn't made it. She was a surrogate, so maybe she didn't even know what happened to them after they were born.
But I couldn't bring myself to aks her.
Instead, I said, "So you're like a revolver."
"What's that?" she aksed.
"It's a kind of gun they used to have. You load it with multiple bullets."
"Oh. I didn't realise that you had an interest in antique weaponry."
"Well, not me," I answered. "My mother. That's the kind of gun she shot herself with."
There was silence in the room.
I thought to myself that the particulars of my mother's suicide were probably not the best thing to discuss with a new acquaintance. I decided that a change of subject was in order.
So I said, "So anyway, I killed my best friend, and I want to serve my time. How best can I accomplish that?"
There was more silence in the room.
The police chief, a guy called Imran Madjiriha, cleared his throat and said, "Well, you see, Ms Wong, that's going to be a little difficult. I've been reading up on your case. I understand this took place on another planet?"
"Yeah," I said. "On Canopus 5."
"So yes," he continued. "That is most definitely out of our jurisdiction."
I sighed. It seemed like Fry was right. Except for the "yo" part, he was exactly right.
Fry's hands made contact with my shoulders. He pushed them down a little, and so I sat down in the chair that I trusted he was positioning behind me.
There were some rustling sounds as the others sat down. Fry took my hand.
"So we'd have to go to Canopus 5," I said.
"Well, actually, I've been in contact with the police federation on that planet," the chief said. "They have not filed any charges against you."
"They haven't?" I aksed. "Well, it doesn't matter. They can once I get there and turn myself in."
The chief responded, "No, I mean, they haven't filed any charges because they have completed their investigation."
I said, "Completed? No, that doesn't make any sense. When did they do an investigation? And how come they didn't file any charges?"
"The investigation was performed the day after the... the incident. And I am told that the investigation was closed due to insufficient evidence."
"Well, that's no problem," I said. "We can get them to reopen it if we have more evidence."
"Like what?" Fry aksed me.
"Like my evidence. I know what happened. If I go there and tell them what happened, they'll have to charge me. And then I can plead guilty, and then I can finally serve my time."
The chief said, "Er... I believe they would require some sort of physical evidence."
"Like what?" I aksed him. "Like if there was video? That would prove it. That would totally prove it. Fry, the external cameras on the ship were running then, weren't they? Yeah, if we have that, we can give it to them."
"Actually," the chief responded, "I am led to believe that the local police department for the western hemisphere of Canopus 5 already had video of the incident. And I am led to believe that this video is what prompted them to close the investigation."
I turned to Fry.
He grasped my hand a little tighter.
"Wait," I said, turning back toward the police chief. "Are you... are you saying that they've had video the whole time?"
"Yes, that's right."
"And they still thought that wasn't enough? Was it, like, a bad angle or something?"
"I couldn't say, Ms Wong. They have told me that they did not have enough evidence to file any charges against you or anyone else. If you want to know more, I think you would have to go there and aks them."
"I will."
"You ready?" Fry aksed me.
"Yeah. I guess."
He took my hand, and we stepped together onto the surface of Canopus 5 for the first time since Leela died.
Well, let's not play word games. It was the first time since I killed her.
That time, we had landed in a rural area, or a park, or something. Fry had to walk a while to deliver the package.
It was similar this time. I didn't hear hovercars honking, or trains rushing by, or anything. There was a little wind, but that was it.
"Where is everybody?" I aksed Fry.
"I'unno."
"We're going to, like, the police building, right? Shouldn't that be in the middle of downtown or something?"
"Yeah," Fry said. "It is."
"Then how come there's nobody here?"
"There's somebody here."
"Besides us, I mean."
He replied, "Yeah, that's what I mean, too. There's a guy over there."
"Over where?"
"Over there."
I waited for a moment.
"Oh, wait," he said. He lifted up my hand and pointed it to our right.
"Over there?" I aksed.
"Yeah."
"Who is he?"
"Some guy. He's walking something."
"Something?"
"Yeah. Looks like a brick. A shaggy brick."
"He's walking a shaggy brick?" I aksed.
"Yeah. I guess so."
"That's weird."
"Yeah. Anyway, I looked up the stuff about this planet. It's just sparsely populated. Everything is spaced out more than it is on, like, Earth or something."
"Really? So how far are we from the police building?"
"That's the precinct," he said. "Right in front of us. And over to our left, there's the capitol building. And I think the building past that is the courthouse, but it's far away. I can't see it."
"Fry?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks," I said.
"What for?"
"You know. For, like, describing stuff. And explaining everything that I can't see."
"Don't worry about it," he answered. "What else am I gonna do?"
"Well, I... I really appreciate it."
I reached across and wrapped my free arm around his as we kept walking.
"Besides," I said, "I know you won't be able to do that for me much longer."
"What?" he aksed. "How come?"
"You know. Because I'm going to prison."
"You're not going to prison, Amy."
"Of course I am."
"No, you're not. I've been talking to a lawyer."
"What?"
"Oh. Here he is."
"Fry, what the fuck?" I snapped. "I said no lawyers!"
"Shh," Fry said. "He's here."
"Good morning," I heard from in front of me.
It was a gruff, scratchy voice. And it seemed to be coming from some way above me.
"Hi," Fry said.
"Hi," I said, holding out my hand tentatively. "I'm Amy."
"Very nice to meet you," the gruff voice said. "I am Mr Rr, chief legal counsel of the planet Omicron Persei 8!"
A large, rubbery hand shook mine.
"Oh," I said to him. "Um... good to meet you."
He said, "Are you going to meet the DA now?"
"Yeah," Fry said.
"May I have a few moments with the two of you first?"
"Oh," Fry said. "Yeah. Of course."
There was a pause.
"Um... should we, like, go back to the Leela or something?" I suggested.
"Sure," Fry responded. "It's right over there."
I said to Mr Rr, "We'll... we'll catch up with you."
"Very good," he answered as his voice began to recede.
I grabbed Fry's arm again. "Fry?" I aksed him.
"Yeah?"
"Why is he Omicronian?"
"Because he was born on Omicron Persei 8, I guess," Fry answered.
"You know what I mean," I sighed.
"No I don't. I mean, like, he's Omicronian for the same reason you're Martian. Or the same reason I'm twentieth centuryian."
"Fry, I mean, why did you get me an Omicronian lawyer? Actually... why did you get me a lawyer at all? I told you not to."
"Amy, you... you need a lawyer. You can't just go in and represent yourself."
"I sure as fuck can. And I'm going to."
"Amy... please."
His hands gripped mine, tight.
He went on, "I know you want to go to prison, and do time, and shit. That's what you want."
"Of course it is," I said.
"But... what about what I want?"
I looked up at him in surprise.
From some distance away, I heard Mr Rr shout, "Um, is there another entrance? I can't seem to fit into this one."
Fry said, "Doesn't what I want count for anything?"
"What?" I aksed. "Yeah. Of... of course it does."
"Well... I don't want you to go to prison."
There was a long, uncomfortable pause.
Mr Rr shouted, "Oh, there we go."
"Fry?" I aksed.
"Yeah?" Fry answered.
"I... I don't want to go to prison either."
"Oh. Then... then why are you so..."
"What?"
"You know," he said. "You're, like, obsessed with prison. Sure sounds like you want to go there."
"Well, I don't want to go there," I replied. "But I have to."
"Well, will you at least give the lawyer a chance?" Fry aksed me. "You know, just meet with him for a few minutes and talk to him about our case."
"Fine," I said.
"Great."
I took his hand again, and he led me back to the Leela.
"So why did you get an Omicronian lawyer?" I aksed.
Fry said, "He came highly recommended. I talked to Bob, and he said this guy was the best defence attorney in the business."
"Oh."
Bob Chang-Diaz was the legal counsel for all of the business ventures that my parents were involved in. He still does that, but he also made himself available to Fry and me. We came to him whenever legal matters came up, especially when we were registering the clinic as a nonprofit organisation.
Not only that, Bob and Hermes seemed to work well together. So that meant we had someone to write up papers, and someone to file them.
I almost said to Fry, "Did it have to be him?"
But that reminded me of Mrs Turanga.
But she's not really like that, I thought. Only in my dreams.
I sighed, frustrated at how confusing everything had gotten, as we went on board the Leela and met with the lawyer.
As Mr Rr explained, it was going to be a challenge getting myself convicted. Apparently, laws on most worlds permitted the self defence argument even when you weren't defending yourself. It was okay to shoot someone else by accident if you were defending the life of a business associate, friend, or occasional lay.
Leela, of course, was all three.
But Mr Rr went on to tell us that on Canopus 5, they applied the self defence argument even more broadly. Apparently, people here had been acquitted on self defence when they shot people they thought were trying to rob their stores. He told me about one case about twenty years ago, when a guy got off even though he had shot someone wearing a Richard Nixon mask.
The person turned out to be wearing the mask because he had previously been shot in the face by the same guy in another mistaken identity case.
"So I feel that this would be an open and shut case, Ms Wong," Mr Rr concluded. "In fact, I don't believe it would even make it to trial."
"Oh," I said.
"I've spoken with the chief of police on this planet. He told me that based on the video evidence they have, they are completely certain that there was no wrongdoing. He also told me that he had no intention of taking you into custody, and I quote, 'no matter how much of a rich bitch attention whore tantrum she throws'."
"What's a 'rich bitch attention whore tantrum'?" Fry aksed.
Mr Rr responded, "I believe the best known example would be described as 'hashtag Miley twerking'."
"What's twerking?" Fry aksed.
"What's a hashtag?" I aksed.
"I heard about that," Fry told me. "It's something they used to use to help you search for things on the Internet."
"Oh, I get it," I said. "So it's like the thing we use now. When you pick which celebrity's genitals most closely describe your post. You know, a snatchtag."
Mr Rr said, "But the chief has agreed to show you the video. I understand that your puny human body is currently malfunctioning, Ms Wong, but Mr Fry has told me that he would like to view the video with his slightly less puny human body and then describe it to you."
I turned to Fry and said, "Really?"
"Yeah," he answered. "I mean, I'm not really looking forward to seeing... you know... seeing her... her..."
I held on to Fry's hand a little tighter.
"But I guess I should. You know, so that we know what... what really happened."
"You're sure you're ready to see it?" I aksed him. "We could always come back later."
"No, let's just go and see it," he responded.
"Okay. Then I guess we... we should go. Unless there's anything else, Mr Rr?"
"No, that completes the items I had."
Once Mr Rr was able to fit his oversized body through the hatch, we walked through the park to the police precinct.
On the way, Fry aksed Mr Rr, "So you're the chief legal counsel of Omicron Persei 8?"
"Yes," Mr Rr responded. "I have held that position for just over three years."
I aksed, "How did you... how does someone become the chief legal counsel of that planet?"
"I passed the bar exam."
"Yeah," I said. "Doesn't answer the question, though."
"In fact it does," he replied. "I am the first Omicronian ever to earn a law degree, and the first to pass the bar."
"How can your planet have a bar exam if there weren't any lawyers before you?"
Mr Rr said, "It doesn't. I passed the Stardustian bar exam."
"Stardustian?" I aksed.
"Yes. And to answer your question, upon being admitted to the Stardustian bar, I returned home and proclaimed myself chief legal counsel of Omicron Persei 8."
"Don't you mean the only legal counsel of Omicron Persei 8?" Fry aksed him.
"Wait," I said. "How come there aren't any other lawyers from your planet?"
"We never had a need for courts," Mr Rr told us. "Until we saw them on your Earthican television programmes, we had never heard of the concept. But such programmes are very popular. In fact, legend tells of a ruler of our planet who once threatened to invade Earth when such a programme was interrupted."
Fry protested, "That's not a legend!"
"No, I don't believe it either," Mr Rr said. "Regardless, now that Omicronians are emigrating to many planets of the galaxy and subjugating many others, doors are opening for us. So I attended law school at Columbia, and while I was there, I received an invitation for an internship on Stardust. One thing led to another, and now I am a proud member of the Stardustian Bar Association."
"That's awesome," Fry said.
"Thank you."
It was quiet the rest of the way as we entered the precinct and went up to the meeting room.
The meeting was actually pretty dull. The police chief and Mr Rr just spent the whole time saying the same thing in different ways. They both said that what I did was perfectly legal according to local law.
I kept trying to explain to them that what I did was wrong, by every reasonable definition of the word. They kept saying that didn't matter.
"Truth is, morality doesn't factor into it," the chief said at one point. "As a police officer, I am only empowered to enforce the law, not rewrite it. And the law of our planet has made it clear, on many occasions, that accidents should be treated as such."
"Accidents?" I shouted. "I killed my best friend!"
"But you did not intend to do that," Mr Rr said. "You have said so previously."
"Yeah, but that doesn't matter."
"It certainly matters. If you were trying to protect her, this planet's established law forgives you."
I slumped forward and buried my face in my hands.
The meeting went on like that for a little while longer, until they showed us the video.
This is about the only good thing about being blind, I thought.
There was no way in Robot Hell I wanted to see that again. I couldn't believe that Fry was actually willing to see it. I mean, I could tell he was apprehensive about it. He must have been aksing himself if he was really ready to see it.
"Is... is there sound?" he aksed.
"No," the chief said. "There's only a video track."
Still holding Fry's hand, I put my other arm over his shoulder and pulled him close to me.
Of course, I had no idea what he was looking at. For me, it was just silence for a few minutes.
Or maybe a few decades. One of the two.
Once the silence was done, I heard the police chief say, "So based on that evidence, I believe you can understand why we closed the case."
"Oh," Fry said. "Yeah. No, that totally makes sense."
He turned toward me – I could tell by the movement of his shoulders and the way his voice sounded – and said, "She didn't kill her."
He reached across and embraced me tightly. Then he gave me a kiss on my forehead.
"You didn't kill her," he repeated.