Fort Freak

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Authors: George R.R. Martin
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction
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clearly.”
    The D.A. was fulminating. “That’s incredibly prejudicial. Where’s the proof?”
    The judge stared over the top of his glasses at the five perfectly groomed young men. The smirking jerk expressions had been replaced with those of respectful attention. He looked back at Charlie. “The D.A. raises a valid question, Mr. Herriman. Where is the proof?”
    “The proof is on their bodies, Your Honor.”
    I winced and watched the D.A. pounce.
    “So she’s admitting to assault and battery?” His tone was silky.
    Charlie opened and closed his mouth several times. “She had a right to defend herself, and they assaulted her first.” He yanked photos out of his briefcase and tried to wave them dramatically. They slipped out of his prothesis and went flying like frightened birds all over the front two rows. As he rushed about trying to pick them up he said, between sharp pants, “They stuck pins in her.”
    The D.A. didn’t like where this was going. “Your Honor, granting this motion would be like giving the police a warrant without probable cause. There is no evidence that this pinprick occurred at Barrington, or that the defendant didn’t injure herself after the fact to support these claims.”
    “And I suppose the wounds on the boys’ penises will be attributed to some quaint initiation rite at Barrington?” Charlie pulled out an asthma inhaler and took a hit.
    The silver-haired lawyer seated next to Assemblyman Fairbanks stood up. He was very smooth, it was like watching water flow. “Gerald Pitken for the boys, Your Honor. I will resist any effort to traumatize and humiliate these young men. The public defender appears to be on a fishing expedition.” He sat back down.
    The judge glanced at the assemblyman who wore a ferocious frown. He studied the boys again. He looked over at Joanie with her flattened snout and those grotesque arms thrusting out from her waist. He banged down the gavel. “Motion denied.”
    I slipped away.
    ♦
    “Why, Officer Black, what a pleasant surprise. Do come in.”
    “Pardon me for imposing, sir,”
    Tate chuckled behind his lion mask. “ Sir, please, you’ll have me looking over my shoulder for my father. Lucas, please.”
    I ducked my head. “Lucas.”
    The apartment would have been elegant and tasteful if the living-room walls hadn’t been lined with masks. There were so many that you stopped seeing individual designs and were just overwhelmed by colors, feathers, and flashing sequins. Tate mistook my expression for one of admiration and launched into an exhaustive and boring monologue about the masks. “This one is from the court of Louis the Fourteenth.…”
    My eyes began to glaze over and soon all I was hearing was “Blah, blah, blah blah, Mardi Gras, blah blah blah blah, Hutu tribal, blah blah blah, Venetian Carnival, blah blah. I began to squirm because I’d come here with my own agenda, I had limited time, and he’d turned into a pedant.
    Tate finally seemed to realize that he was boring me insensible. “But enough of my particular hobby horse.” He led me over to a couch and gestured for me to sit down. “Now, what can I do for you?”
    “I need a photographer.” And I outlined the situation.
    When I finished I could tell Tate was smiling, though I couldn’t actually see his mouth behind the mask. “I’ll do it myself.”
    ♥
    When the kid opened the door his mouth dropped open and his eyes began to flick nervously from side to side. “Hi, Bruce,” I said. “First, the little morning game is gonna stop.”
    “Yeah, how you gonna make me?” The nerd bluster was back.
    “I’m going to sue you and your parents. Since I’m a lawyer it won’t cost me a dime, but it sure will cost your folks.”
    The kid went white again, and he grabbed at my arm as I started to walk away. “No, please. Don’t.”
    “Okay, then you’re going to do something for me .”
    ♣
    They really were a pack. Bruce and I sat on a bench at the edge of Central

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