A Private Matter

a story of the world of Zoolok

"So, you're just going to lie there all day?" asked Sidewalk Shaver, the tiger speaking in a deep, bass voice as he looked down disapprovingly at the teenage hawk sprawled on a chaise lounge chair on the sundeck of their hotel room.

Raoim Coromek yawned and stretched, his yellow, scaly hands and feet groping at the air. In contrast to Sidewalk's expensive and immaculate suit and tie, the hawk was wearing only a pair of blue silk shorts, his brown feathers soaking up the sunlight bathing his handsome athletic body, a pair of dark sunglasses perched atop his yellow beak. Attached to his waistband was a device about the size of a pack of cigarettes with a dial on it. "We spent the past week searching Itusto for that miserable, embezzling guinea pig."

The tiger shrugged. "So?"

"So, I'm not used to so much walking around. I'm tired and my legs are sore. I just want to relax."

Sidewalk smirked. "For someone whose body is constantly producing electricity, you'd think you'd have more energy."

"It doesn't work like that," said Raoim, rolling over on his side with his back to his companion and resting his head on his hands.

"Well, when you feel the urge to rejoin the world of animate objects, you can find me down at the pool, where I'll be having a tall glass of lunch."

Raoim waved a clawed hand at the tiger without looking at him. "Noma te daess," he said, which meant "close the door" in Itustan.

Sidewalk raised an eyebrow. "You picked up the local lingo pretty fast."

"One of my many talents," Raoim replied. "I have an ear for languages."

Sidewalk nodded. "Can I send you up anything? Maybe one of those fancy little lizards fat old ladies like to keep as pets, or a box of bon bons?"

"Noma te daess!" Raoim shouted.

Sidewalk did so as he left the room and descended a flight of steps to the swimming pool, where hotel guests of many species were either swimming, eating and drinking at the glass tables, or relaxing like Raoim. Most of them were dressed in bathing suits or very casual clothes, which made the tiger look somewhat incongruous in his suit and tie. He sat down at a table and ordered a drink from the thylacine waiter, charging it to his room. Idly, he contemplated going for a swim.

As he sat by the pool, nursing his drink, a pretty, tan-furred mouse girl in a yellow dress walked past, glancing at him curiously. She was short, like all mice, perhaps two thirds his height, and her build was lithe and slender. She suddenly stopped and turned around, her huge ebony eyes fixed upon him. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"Yes?" Sidewalk replied, turning in his chair to face her.

"I am sorry," she said, speaking with a strong Itustan accent. "I thought you were someone I knew."

Sidewalk smiled at her. "I wish I was."

"You are Mr. Sidewalk Shaver, the detective from Nexasho, yes?"

"Yes, that's correct."

She smiled, her big buck teeth gleaming. "I am Treseta. I thought I recognized you from your picture in the paper. You captured a thief who fled here from Nexasho. You and Volthawk, one of the Heroes of Zoolok."

The tiger sighed. "I suppose you'd like me to introduce you to him?"

She shook her head, her round ears wiggling. "Oh no, I would not. I am much more interested in you."

He smiled again. "Are you now?" He gestured at the empty chair beside him. "Please, have a seat."

She grinned bashfully, came over, and sat down in the proffered chair. "Quevor," she said, which was "thank you" in her native tongue.

"Gerata," Sidewalk replied, which was "you're welcome."

"So, you caught the thief and recovered the money he stole," she said, looking excited.

He nodded. "Yes, the company he embezzled from paid me to track him down."

"You must be very brave!" she said admiringly.

Sidewalk shook his head. "No, he was just an accountant, not a dangerous criminal."

"Then why did you bring a superhero with you?" she asked, looking puzzled.

He chuckled. "I'm sort of mentoring him. He wants to learn how to be a detective, so I let him come along on jobs sometimes. Plus, he's never been to Itusto before."

"Oh? And what about you?"

"Only once, briefly."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, then you must let me show you around! I grew up here! I know all the best places!"

He smiled. "That's very kind of you. I think I'd like that. Only . . ."

"Only what?" she asked.

"My partner is kind of worn out. I'm afraid he wouldn't be very good company."

She smiled and placed her tiny hand on his much larger one. "That is fine. I was hoping it might be just the two of us. Have you ever been to Eldosu?"

He shook his head. "No, what's that?"
"Old ruins, the ancient port of Itusto. I love to wander about in it." She looked at him shyly. "Would you like to see it?"

The tiger chuckled. "And wander about with you? I'd like that very much." He put down a tip for the waiter, and they got up and left the pool together.

The ruins of Eldosu consisted of a large plaza, with a mosaic floor depicting sea serpents and other figures from ancient Itustan myths, that was bordered by a ring of marble columns, all of them broken to some extent. It was not one of the more famous tourist spots in the old city, and they had the place to themselves.

Sidewalk wandered around, holding Treseta's hand as he took in the atmosphere of magnificent desolation, feeling the specter of history around him. "This is very beautiful," he said, smiling down at the mouse girl.

She smiled back up at him, but he noticed a sad look in her big black eyes. "Is something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Lieutenant Crol Shaver," came a sharp male voice from behind them. "United Provinces Army."

Sidewalk whirled toward it, startled. Beside one of the columns stood a young adult mouse wearing a leather jacket and trousers and holding a pistol, which was aimed at him. Another mouse emerged from behind an adjacent column. The tiger glanced at Treseta, who had released his hand and was backing away, looking apologetic.

"Remember me, Lieutenant?" the mouse with the gun asked in an Itustan accent. "Or do you forget your men so soon?"

Sidewalk took a moment to place him. "Domathan," he said at last. "Riva Domathan."

"Private Riva Domathan," the mouse growled. "Of the rear rank."

Sidewalk heard footsteps behind him and turned toward them. Approaching him were three more mice—two mature adults, and an elderly one walking with the help of a cane. They were all looking at him with hard, unyielding expressions. Riva and his companion were approaching, too, the five mice closing in around the tiger on all sides.

Riva gestured at the older mouse. "My father, Cavirago Domathan." He indicated each of the other mice in turn. "These are my older brothers Andir, Boas, and Umpolo. My sister, Treseta, you have already met. And my beloved twin brother, Rumi Domathan, who cannot be with us today, for reasons best known to yourself."
Sidewalk nodded to each of the mice, his arms folded. "Nice to meet you gentlemen." He turned back to Riva. "So, what is this, Riva?"

"A court-martial," Riva replied, baring his teeth as he glared at the tiger with undisguised hatred.

"Is that so?" asked Sidewalk. "Who are we trying?"

"You," said Cavirago, "for the murder of my son, Rumi Domathan. You will be taken from here to the place of Rumi's childhood. There, you will be tried and judged. And if you are found guilty, you will be shot."

Sidewalk looked at each of the five mice surrounding him. He was taller and heavier than any of them, and though unarmed, he still possessed the natural weapons of his species. However, Riva's pistol trumped those. He shook his head, trying to convince himself that this was only a dream.

"If you would run, I would shoot you now," snarled Riva. "Perhaps that would be for the best. Come along, Lieutenant." He gestured toward a nearby car with his gun. Sidewalk nodded and began walking down a flight of worn stone steps toward the car with his arms still folded, Riva close behind, the other mice following but slowed by Cavirago.

"So," said Sidewalk, "Private Riva Domathan, on the steps of an old Itustan ruin. Small world, isn't it?" He stopped suddenly and turned to face him. "Did you ever make PFC, Riva?" As the mouse stared at him, surprised, Sidewalk's arm shot out and snatched the gun from his hand, spinning him around in the process. The tiger began backing down the steps, holding the gun on Riva. "Nice magic trick, isn't it, turning one man into the equal of five?" he asked, fangs bared. "Tiaon!" he added, which meant "goodbye" in Itustan.

With his attention focused on the five mice before him, Sidewalk failed to notice a sixth mouse emerge from behind a crumbling wall of ancient brick and mortar, holding a pistol like a club. The mouse slammed the gun's butt down on the back of the tiger's neck, and he collapsed to the ground. The six mice gathered around his unconscious form, carried him to the car, put him inside, and drove off.

Raoim awoke from his nap feeling much better, the aches in his feathered legs and clawed feet having subsided. This was a nice hotel, he thought, and he regretted not bringing his girlfriend Adeni along. But she had school, which made things awkward. Remembering that Sidewalk had said he would be having a drink by the pool, the hawk rose from the chaise lounge, checked to make sure his voltage regulator was working properly, slipped on a terrycloth jacket, and went downstairs.

Raoim walked out to the swimming pool and cast his gaze around it. There was no sign of Sidewalk. He went to the front desk and had the tiger paged, then waited. When Sidewalk didn't show after ten minutes, he walked back to the pool and sat down at a table, one talon tapping on the glass.

"A drink, sir?" the thylacine waiter asked as he came over to the hawk.

"Quevor, I don't drink," Raoim replied, looking up at him. "Was there a tiger in an expensive suit out here earlier?"

The waiter nodded. "Yes, sir. He was sitting right over there." He pointed at a table that was occupied by a boar who was drinking alone.

"Did he meet with anyone?" Raoim asked.

"Yes, a mouse girl came and sat with him. They talked for a while, then left together."

"You didn't happen to overhear what they talked about, did you?"

The waiter looked indignant. "I am not in the habit of eavesdropping on people's private conversations, sir," he said. Then he smiled. "However . . ."

Raoim sighed, took his wallet out of his jacket pocket, and handed the waiter a bill.

"Ah, I seem to remember her mentioning Eldosu. It is the ruins of the old port of the city."

"Is it far from here?" Raoim asked.

"Only a few miles."

"This mouse girl, describe her for me."

"She was tan, sir, and quite pretty, with a most appealing shape." The waiter grinned.

"What was she wearing?"

"A yellow dress, and she carried a small pink purse with a silver clasp. It was made of leather, I think. It did not look very expensive."

Raoim nodded. "Quevor, you've been very helpful." He got up and went back to his room to change.

The car containing Sidewalk pulled into an old villa on the outskirts of the city, bordering a vineyard. It stopped, and the tiger, Cavirago, and his sons got out. A second car, a sporty coupe Treseta had driven Sidewalk to Eldosu in, pulled up behind them, and she got out as well. The tiger noticed dozens of mice pouring out of the ancient stucco buildings—men, women, and children, all of them staring at him.

"This is where my son Rumi was born," said Cavirago, fixing Sidewalk with a stony gaze. "Where we all were born. This is where he played as a child, the place he should have come home to, married and had children, worked the land as his family has for centuries, grown old, and died, surrounded by those who loved him. Not in some distant foreign land." As Sidewalk looked around at the crowd of mice watching them, he added, "We are all family here, Lieutenant. No one will help you." He turned and limped slowly toward a nearby doorway. Riva poked his gun in the tiger's back, urging him to follow.

The doorway led into a dining room with bare stone walls and a long wooden table surrounded by rough wooden chairs. Cavirago sat down at the head of the table, his older sons to either side. Sidewalk sat down as well, and Riva stood behind him, keeping his gun trained on the tiger.

"I regret the necessity of doing this, Lieutenant," said Cavirago.

"I still don't understand why it was necessary, Mr. Domathan," said Sidewalk. "You said I was to be tried for the murder of your son. Rumi was killed in action during the Hesban War, six years ago. Riva knows this. He was there."

Riva angrily shouted something in Itustan to his father, and Andir shouted something back. Cavirago looked sternly at both of them, and they fell silent.

"This man will be on trial for his life," said the old mouse. "While he is in our house, we will treat him with courtesy and respect by speaking to him in his own language." He turned his attention to Sidewalk. "You were commander of the company to which Rumi and Riva's platoon belonged, were you not, Lieutenant?"

Sidewalk nodded. "Temporarily. Our captain was killed, so I assumed command."

"And you sent Rumi and Riva out on patrol together," said Cavirago. "A patrol from which only Riva returned."

"Riva and three others," said Sidewalk. "The patrol encountered enemy forces, and Rumi was shot and killed."

"Shot in the back!" Riva shouted. "With his hands in the air!"

"By a Hesban soldier," said Sidewalk. "At the risk of sounding callous, Mr. Domathan, Rumi knew the danger when he enlisted. We all did. That's why there's a space on the application form that says 'next of kin.' I'm sorry about what happened, but I don't see how it's my fault."

"Liar!" yelled Riva. "You hated him! You hated both of us! You sent us out there on a suicide mission, knowing we would not come back!"

"But you did come back," said Sidewalk, "and so did three others in that patrol. And the army didn't see fit to charge me with incompetence or negligence, let alone murder. Rumi was killed by enemy action and that was that. Case closed."

"Closed for them," said Cavirago stoically. "Not for us. We prefer to find the truth for ourselves."

"Why?" Sidewalk asked. "Why are the army's findings not good enough for you?"

Cavirago gave the tiger a penetrating look. "Do you know why Rumi and Riva enlisted in the United Provinces' army, Lieutenant?"
Sidewalk shook his head. "No, it was none of my business." He gestured at Riva. "Why don't you ask him?"

"It was because they wanted to prove that not all mice are cowards," said Cavirago.

The tiger sighed. "That is a very old and outdated belief, sir."

"Itusto is an old country," said Cavirago, "and we are an old family. And I am old enough to remember when that belief was widely held."

"In the United Provinces," said Sidewalk, "all species are equal under the law."

"Laws still require people to enforce them," said Cavirago. "Can you say that this belief has been completely eliminated?"

"No, I can't," Sidewalk admitted. "But great progress has been made in that direction, even within our lifetimes."

"Then how can we be confident that justice has truly been done?" asked Cavirago. "In Itusto, we mice still prefer to handle our own affairs, because we do not trust bigger, stronger species to treat us fairly."

"With all due respect, sir," said Sidewalk, "that also sounds like an outdated belief."

All the mice in the room muttered in their own language, and Cavirago narrowed his eyes. "Do you deny it has been so in the past?"

"The past is not the present," said Sidewalk. "We can't control the past, but we can learn from it and not repeat it."
Cavirago nodded. "You are correct, Lieutenant, we cannot control the past. But we can control this!"

"And what do you think you'll learn that the army didn't find out six years ago?" Sidewalk demanded.

"The truth," said Cavirago firmly. "You will be given ample opportunity to defend yourself. I will ask two friends from outside our family to assist me as judges. We are simple people, Lieutenant. Honor is of the highest importance to us. We do not seek vengeance, only justice."

Sidewalk pointed at Riva. "Why don't you tell him that? He can't wait to pull the trigger!"

Riva sneered. "And should the duty fall to me, I will do it with the greatest pleasure, murderer of my brother!"

Sidewalk smirked. "You're a lot more enthusiastic about doing your duty than you were when I knew you, Private."

Riva angrily opened his mouth to speak, but a raised hand from Cavirago stopped him. Then Cavirago turned to Andir. "You are the eldest. Will you serve as prosecutor?"

Andir nodded. "I will, father."

Cavirago looked around the room. "And who will serve as the lieutenant's advocate?"

There was a moment of silence. Then Umpolo spoke up. "I will defend him, father, if he will have me."

"Why?" asked Sidewalk, looking surprised.

"Yes, why?" asked Riva, looking furious at his older brother. "You would side against your family, deny us our revenge?"

Umpolo regarded him coolly. "Our father spoke of justice, not revenge. It is not only the lieutenant who will be on trial, but the honor of our family. We must be certain that we are right in this."

Riva just glared at him.

Cavirago rose slowly and stiffly from his chair. "Take the prisoner downstairs. The trial will begin at dawn tomorrow in the courtyard." He looked at Andir and Umpolo. "You have that long to prepare your cases." The old mouse left the room, cane tapping on the wooden floor as he walked.

Raoim arrived at the ruins of Eldosu in the car he and Sidewalk had rented, got out, and began searching. The place appeared to be completely empty as he stalked among the ancient stone columns and crumbling brick walls. Under other circumstances, he would have admired their picturesque disarray, but his present concern was only for his friend, of whom he saw no sign. However, he did find a number of recent cigarette butts behind one of the columns. They were not Sidewalk's brand, and so many in one place suggested that the smoker had stood there for quite a while, perhaps waiting for someone. He noted that the location of the butts would have put the smoker out of sight of the main plaza.

As the hawk descended a flight of worn stone steps from the plaza back toward his car, he noticed something lying in the grass nearby. He went over and knelt down to examine it. It was Sidewalk's wallet. He opened it up. There was still money inside. Frowning, he went back to his car, got in, and drove off.

In a dark, ugly basement, Sidewalk sat in a chair smoking as Umpolo questioned him about what had happened on that day six years ago. The mouse had a slender, gray-furred build and, like his client, was dressed in a rather expensive suit and tie, in contrast to the simple clothes the rest of his family favored. He had attended the University of Itusto's school of business and was in charge of the sale and distribution of the wine his family's vineyard produced, as well as managing the accounts of the winery.

Sidewalk was being sullen and reticent. Umpolo could fully understand that, given the unfortunate circumstances, but he sensed that there was more to it. Rather, he suspected, these events had reopened a chapter in the tiger's life that he would have preferred remained closed, stirring unwelcome and unloved memories. However, it was necessary for the mouse to learn as much as possible about the events that had lead to his brother's death if he was to save his client's life.

"Why did you send two brothers out on the same dangerous patrol, Lieutenant?" Umpolo asked.

Sidewalk took a deep draw on his cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke out of his mouth and nostrils. "I can't tell you that."

"Riva claims it was because you hated them and wanted to see them both killed."

Sidewalk crushed out his cigarette on the table. "That's a lie."

The mouse looked at his notes. "You said that Riva was a poor soldier."

Sidewalk nodded. "He was lazy, irresponsible, and disrespectful to his superiors. He was a disgrace to his uniform and an embarrassment to his platoon."

"So you hated him," said Umpolo.

Sidewalk shook his head. "I didn't hate him."

"Riva said you repeatedly assigned him the worst duties, the ones nobody wanted."

The tiger nodded. "And he complained that I was singling him out because he was a mouse, rather than because he was a lousy soldier, ignoring the fact that his brother wasn't getting those details along with him."

"So you deny you bore him any personal animosity."

"Absolutely, I deny it. It was standard disciplinary action. Any other officer would have done the same thing."
"But any other officer did not send him and his brother on that patrol. You did."

Sidewalk nodded. "Yes, I did."

"Why?"

Sidewalk said nothing as he lit another cigarette.

Umpolo leaned forward urgently. "Lieutenant, this is a question on which your life may depend!"

"I'm acutely aware of that," the tiger replied.

"Perhaps, in the stress of the moment, you did not realize what you were doing?" the mouse asked hopefully.

Sidewalk shook his head. "I knew exactly what I was doing."

Umpolo slumped back in his chair and sighed, then raised his eyes to the tiger. "It is a difficult thing to order men to their deaths, is it not?"

Sidewalk glanced at him. "Have you ever done it?"

"Thankfully, no."

"Then you have no idea. You have no idea what it does to you."

Umpolo nodded, and they sat in silence for a time while the tiger smoked.

The city of Itusto had more shops selling purses per square mile than any other city on Zoolok, Raoim thought bitterly as he entered the thirty-first such establishment he'd visited today. It was a long shot, he knew. After all, the mouse girl might have bought her purse in a different city, or it might have been a gift from someone, or the person who sold it to her might no longer work there, or it might have happened so long ago that no one would remember it, or she might not have given her name. But it was the only lead he had.

The shop was much like all the others, the walls lined with a dazzling variety of ladies' accessories, all exhorbitantly priced. That was to be expected. After all, Itusto catered to the tourist trade, and it was one of the fashion capitals of the world. Raoim was now glad that Adeni hadn't been able to come. She would have wanted to buy half the shop, and being a Hero of Zoolok didn't pay that well.

Behind the counter stood a very cute female chinchilla, with huge black eyes, iron-gray fur, big round ears, and an enormous fluffy tail. Despite her attractiveness, Raoim experienced a moment of anxiety when he saw her, since the Heroes of Zoolok's deadliest enemy, Maxoran, was also a chinchilla. That was totally unfair to her, of course, and he immediately felt ashamed of himself. It wasn't her fault that the man who'd tried to kill him several times was a chinchilla, and he'd never been one to hold someone's species against them. He smiled at her and said, "Hello!"

"Hello," she replied, with a strong Itustan accent, her black eyes glittering as she smiled back at him. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I hope so," said Raoim. "I'm trying to find a girl who may have bought something here."

"Oh, a girl," she said, looking a bit disappointed.

"Yes, she's a mouse with tan fur. She may have bought a pink leather purse with a silver clasp."

"I think we carry a purse like that," the chinchilla said. She looked at the wall to the right of her. "Ah yes, there it is! It is a leftover from last season. Marked down."

Raoim nodded. "Have you sold one to a tan mouse girl lately?"

She thought for a moment, then her eyes brightened. "As a matter of fact, I did! She was in here about two weeks ago!"

The hawk leaned forward. "You wouldn't know her name, would you?"

The girl smiled. "Her name is Treseta Domathan. She comes in here all the time to peruse the latest fashions. Her family owns a villa on the outskirts of town. They are an old family, well known in Itusto."

Raoim blinked, scarcely able to believe his good luck. He grasped her furry hand in his scaly one and pressed his beak to it. "Quevor!"

The girl looked at the hawk, surprised. "Gerata! Is she a friend of yours, sir?"

Raoim shook his feathered head. "I've never met her."

"Oh. In that case, would you like to have a drink with me? I get off work in an hour." She smiled at him.

Raoim hesitated. She was very pretty, and seemed quite nice, but he already had a girlfriend. Of course, Adeni was also thousands of miles away in another country, but even so . . .

He shook his head. It was all a moot point anyway. His first priority was Sidewalk. "Sorry, I don't drink," he said. "Tiaon!" He ran out of the shop and headed for his car, and she watched him go, a look of disappointment on her pretty face.

Raoim arrived at the edge of the villa, stopped his car, got out, and looked around. It was made up of old stone buildings, from which a dozen or so people were emerging to greet him. They were all mice, and they were not smiling, not even the children. The hawk got the distinct impression he was not welcome here.

"Hello!" he called out. "I wonder if someone could help me. I'm looking for someone." A wall of silent furry faces gazed back at him.

"He's a tiger. Good dresser," Raoim added. "His name is Sidewalk Shaver." There was an obvious look of recognition on some of the faces in the crowd, and the mice muttered among themselves quietly.

"Look," said Raoim, annoyed, "I don't know what's going on here, but if you don't take me to Sidewalk right now, I'm going to the police."

"Turn around slowly, Volthawk," came an Itustan-accented voice from behind him. Raoim did so. There were three mice holding shotguns aimed at him, standing about twenty feet apart.

"If you know who I am," Raoim said, "then you know what I can do." He reached down to turn the dial on his voltage regulator.

"Stop!" one of the shotgun-armed mice shouted, and Raoim's hand froze. "We know what you can do. I trust you know what these can do."

Raoim frowned. The mice with the shotguns were standing far enough apart that he couldn't get all three with one bolt, and without his insulated costume, he was as vulnerable to their weapons as anyone. "I just came to get my friend," he said. "Hand him over, and we'll leave and I promise nobody will say a word about this."

The mouse who had spoken shook his head. "We cannot allow you to leave at this time. But we will take you to your friend."

Raoim nodded. "All right. Lead on."

The mice with the shotguns moved toward him, careful not to get too close together. Raoim allowed them to guide him toward a doorway in the side of a building. They entered and descended a flight of stone steps, the hawk sandwiched between two mice who kept their guns trained on him. The stairs led down into a basement, and Raoim saw Sidewalk and another mouse sitting at a table. They both stood up quickly when they saw him.

"How did you find me?" Sidewalk asked, astonished.

"It wasn't easy," said Raoim. "Here, you dropped this." He reached into his jacket, removed Sidewalk's wallet, and tossed it to the tiger, who caught it. "What the hell is going on?"

"It seems I'm to stand trial for the murder of one of their family," Sidewalk replied.

The hawk stared at him. "What?"

Sidewalk nodded. "This is my defense attorney." He gestured at Umpolo.

Raoim looked at the mouse, flabbergasted. "You can't do this! There are laws in this country! Hell, Itusto invented law!"

"I've already been over this with them," said Sidewalk. "Unfortunately, the head of the family is determined to go through with it." He shifted his gaze past Raoim. "Ah, speak of the devil." The hawk turned around to see an elderly mouse coming down the stairs with the aid of a cane. "Volthawk, allow me to introduce Cavirago Domathan, patriarch of the Domathan family."

Cavirago bowed stiffly. "It is an honor to have a Hero of Zoolok in my home. Contrary to what the lieutenant says, I am not a devil. Just a grieving father who seeks justice for a beloved son."

"Sir," Raoim said, "you must realize that what you're doing is completely illegal by the laws of your own country."

"There are laws older than the laws of Itusto," said Cavirago, "and those are deeper and more binding. They are the laws of our family. We can trace our ancestry back over two thousand years, before the founding of this country. And we have always looked after our own."

Raoim glanced at Sidewalk. "He's really serious about this."

The tiger nodded. "Dead serious."

The hawk looked around at the other mice in the room. "And you're all willing to go along with this, become accessories to murder?" The question was met with stony silence.

"If you wish," said Cavirago, "you may observe the proceedings. But I must ask that you give your word of honor, as a Hero of Zoolok, that you will not interfere."

Raoim shook his head. "I can't do that, sir."

"Then you leave us no choice," said Cavirago. "We must keep you locked up until the trial is concluded."
"Father," said Riva, who had come down the stairs to stand beside him, "why not take that device on his belt away from him? I saw him reach for it. It must be the source of his powers."

"That's a very bad idea!" said Raoim, alarmed.

Riva grinned, buck teeth gleaming. "See how scared he is at the thought of being powerless, like a normal person?"

Sidewalk stepped up beside Raoim. "Mr. Domathan, that device is not the source of Volthawk's power. His power comes from inside him. The device enables him to control it so he doesn't hurt anyone."

"Liar!" spat Riva. "You are hoping he will save you from being shot!" He lunged at Raoim, reaching for the regulator.

The hawk seized the mouse's arm and pivoted, throwing him to the stone floor. Instantly, the shotguns were pointed at him. "You idiots!" Raoim shouted at the mice. "If you remove my regulator, or one of your guns hits it, everyone in this room is dead!"

Cavirago said something harshly in Itustan to Riva, who got to his feet and stood sullenly beside him, glaring at Raoim. "I know you to be an honorable man, Volthawk," said the old mouse. "I believe your concern is for our safety. Therefore, no one will try to take that device from you."

Raoim breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mr. Domathan."

"I must ask again for your word that you will not interfere with the trial," said Cavirago.

Raoim opened his mouth to refuse, then stopped when Sidewalk put a hand on his shoulder. "Give it to him," he said.

Raoim stared at the tiger. "I can't just stand by while they shoot you!"

"They mean to have this trial, no matter what," said Sidewalk. "If you try to stop them, either they'll kill you, or you'll have to kill them. Is that what you want?"

The hawk swallowed, then turned to Cavirago. "I give you my word of honor, as a Hero of Zoolok, I won't use my powers to interfere."

Cavirago nodded. "That is enough." He turned and started going back up the stairs, Riva and the other mice following, until only Sidewalk, Raoim, and Umpolo were left in the room.

"Thanks for coming," said Sidewalk.

"Don't mention it," said Raoim. "I just wish there was something I could do!"

Sidewalk nodded. "We shall see."

As the sky grew rosy in the east, tables and chairs were set up in the courtyard of the ancient stone villa. Cavirago and two other elderly mice sat down at a simple wooden table, and Sidewalk, Raoim, Andir, Umpolo, and Riva seated themselves behind another table, facing them. All the mice in the villa had come out to watch, many looking anxiously at Raoim, knowing that the hawk could hurl lightning bolts, like the gods of legend. Raoim simply sat quietly, hands in his lap, making no move that might be construed as threatening.

Umpolo rose. "Before we begin," he said, "the accused wishes it known that he does not recognize this as a court of law. It has no authority to try or execute him."

"He will be just as dead as if it did!" sneered Riva. Cavirago gave him a warning glance, and the younger mouse fell silent.

"I have something to say as well," said Raoim, standing up slowly and deliberately, "with the court's permission."

Cavirago nodded. "Proceed."

"I'm told that you believe the official story regarding Rumi Domathan's death is unreliable due to the historical prejudice that mice lack courage," said Raoim. "The leader of the Heroes of Zoolok is a mouse. Since my parents died, he's been like a father to me. I've never known a braver man, or one more dedicated to truth and justice. I hope someday to be half the hero he is. And I can say, without hesitation, that he would consider this trial a travesty of justice, and a mockery of Itusto's proud heritage as the birthplace of law." He sat down.

"Your words do you credit, Volthawk," said Cavirago. "They show you have wisdom beyond your years. Rest assured, we would not be here today if we did not have good reason to doubt the 'official story,' as you put it. We seek only to uncover the truth. Surely, your leader could understand that."

Raoim merely snorted and leaned back in his chair, arms folded.

"The prosecution may present its case," said Cavirago.

Andir rose from his chair and went to stand before the three judges. He was a black mouse, unusually stocky and heavy for his species, with a scar above his right eye and a broken snout that suggested he had been in more than a few fights. "Six years ago, two brothers, Rumi and Riva, went to live in the United Provinces with their uncle. They wanted to return wealthy and successful. But that is not how they returned. One came back destitute, the other in a coffin!"

He went to the table he'd been sitting at, picked up three items, and held them up for all to see. "This is all that is left of our dear brother Rumi—a jacket and a shirt, both stained with his blood, with a bullet hole in the back where he was shot, and a gold bracelet, engraved with his and his brother Riva's names." He replaced the items on the table. "The prosecution will show that Rumi's death was the result of a malicious vendetta against him by his commanding officer, Lieutenant Crol Shaver, United Provinces Army. I call Riva Domathan to the stand!"

Riva rose, came over, and sat down in a chair beside the judges' table. "Please tell the court what happened on that day," Andir said.

Riva took a deep breath. "Five of us were sent on a patrol into enemy territory. Somehow, Rumi and I became separated from the others, so that only we were captured by the Hesbans. I raised my hands, like this," he held his hands above his head with the palms facing forward, "and Rumi put his hands up also. They told us which way to go, and I went." The mouse paused for a moment, shivering. Then he continued, his voice tight. "I heard a shot behind me. I turned around and saw Rumi fall to the ground, shot in the back. I thought they would shoot me, too, so I broke and ran. The Hesbans fired, but they missed, and I got away."

Andir nodded. "You said you had misgivings about the mission. Were these misgivings shared by any of the others?"

"All five of us did," Riva said. "It was not just dangerous, it was suicidal! You could tell by the way they chose who was to go."

"Describe how they chose them."

"Each of the platoon leaders put their soldiers' names in a helmet and drew one at random. My name was chosen from the third platoon."

"So, one soldier was sent from each of the five platoons," said Andir.

"There were only four platoons in the company!" Riva insisted.

"I do not understand," said Andir. "You said that one soldier was randomly chosen from each platoon. How did there come to be five soldiers in the patrol?"

"After the four names were chosen, the company commander called us together and said, 'I have decided to send five soldiers on the patrol, not four. Rumi Domathan will be the fifth.'" He glared angrily at Sidewalk. "Is that not correct, Lieutenant? Is that not how you sent Rumi to his death, how you murdered him as surely as if you had fired a bullet in his back yourself?"

The tiger silently nodded.

Andir glanced at Umpolo. "Your witness."

Umpolo rose and walked over to stand before his younger brother. "During the patrol, did Rumi say anything to indicate why the Lieutenant decided to add him at the last minute?"

Riva sighed. "I have told you a hundred times, Umpolo, there was no time for him to say anything. We had barely been separated from the others when we were captured. There was only time for us to put up our hands, and for Rumi to be shot in the back!"

Umpolo nodded. "You claim that Lieutenant Shaver wanted you and Rumi killed."

Riva looked at Sidewalk, his eyes narrow. "Yes. He hated us!"

"Suppose I were to tell you, Riva, that at the time you say the lieutenant was conspiring against you both, he had already sent in a recommendation for Rumi to be promoted to corporal. What would you say to that?"

Riva blinked at his brother in surprise, and Cavirago and the other two judges murmured among themselves. Then Riva glared at Sidewalk. "I would say that he is lying to save his own skin!"

Umpolo shrugged. "I am certain that the United Provinces Army has his recommendation on file somewhere. Unfortunately, since we are not a legitimate court, we have no access to their records, forcing us to rely on the lieutenant's word." He turned to the three judges and addressed them passionately. "Which is yet another reason why this trial, if it is to be held at all, should be held in a legitimate venue, with full access to all pertinent information!" He turned to Riva. "No further questions!"

Riva rose from the witness chair and stalked back to his seat, seething with anger, his eyes fixed venomously upon Sidewalk, who didn't appear to notice.

Cavirago leaned forward and addressed Andir. "Does the prosecution have any more evidence to present?"

Andir shook his head. "The prosecution rests, father."

Cavirago nodded and looked at Umpolo. "The defense may present its case."

Umpolo turned to Sidewalk. "I call Lieutenant Crol Shaver to the stand."

Sidewalk rose, walked to the witness chair, and sat down, not looking at anyone.

"Who made the decision that four soldiers were to be sent on the patrol?" Umpolo asked.

"I was company commander," said Sidewalk. "It was my decision."

"Who decided to make it five?" asked Umpolo.

"That was my decision, too."

"What made you change your mind?"

Sidewalk glanced at Cavirago, who was looking at him intently. "I can't tell you that."

"You must!" Umpolo said desperately. "Your life depends on it!"

Sidewalk shook his head.

"Surely, it cannot be a military secret," said Umpolo, "not after all these years!"

"I've said all I'm going to say about it," said Sidewalk firmly.

Umpolo paced back and forth in frustration, then stopped and looked at the tiger. "Was there another person involved in this decision?" he asked. "Someone whom we do not know of?"

Sidewalk looked up at him. "I did discuss it with one other person."

Umpolo pounced on this. "Who? Who was it?"

Sidewalk took a moment to answer, and when he did, he answered slowly. "I promised that person . . . for good reasons . . . that the discussion would remain a secret."

Cavirago leaned forward. "Surely, Lieutenant, under the circumstances, this person would release you from your promise!"

Sidewalk looked at the old mouse. "I can't be sure of that, and there's no way of asking him."

Cavirago sighed. "You are presenting us with a serious problem, Lieutenant."

"You have a bigger problem than me, sir," said Sidewalk.

"What problem is that?" Cavirago asked.

Sidewalk pointed at Riva. "Him."

Riva blinked. "Me?"

Sidewalk nodded. "He's turning you into a gang of murderers, and destroying the honor of your family."

Riva leaped to his feet, eyes blazing. "I am not on trial here, Lieutenant! I did not kill Rumi! He was my brother!"

Sidewalk rose from his chair slowly, like water coming to a boil. "And he was my friend!" the tiger roared. Then he hung his head, his eyes closed. "No matter what Riva says, Rumi was my friend."

Umpolo turned to the three judges. "The defense rests."

Sidewalk walked wearily back to his seat as the three judges talked among themselves for several minutes. Finally, Cavirago spoke. "We find ourselves in a difficult position, Lieutenant Shaver. Riva claims you sent Rumi to his death out of personal hatred. If this is true, then the honor of our family demands your life for his. Honor is of the highest importance to us, so to satisfy it, we cannot commit an injustice. Yet you refuse to tell us why you added Rumi to the patrol on which he was killed. What are we to think, except that Riva's claim is true?"

Raoim, who had been examining Rumi's shirt and fatigue jacket, stood up suddenly. "Sir, I have something to say, if I may?"

Cavirago frowned at the hawk. "You gave me your word of honor that you would not interfere."

"No, I gave my word I wouldn't use my powers to interfere," Raoim corrected him. "But I don't need them for what I have to say."

"I am afraid there is nothing you can say that will change the outcome," said Cavirago.

"Actually, it's not so much what I can say as what these two gentlemen can say," said Raoim, indicating Sidewalk and Riva. "If the court would indulge me a moment, I'd like to talk to both of them. Then I promise I'll shut up, and you can go ahead and do what you have to do."

Cavirago nodded. "Very well. You may proceed."

Raoim went over to Sidewalk and stood before him. "Lieutenant Shaver, was there any compelling military reason for sending five soldiers out on that patrol instead of four?"

Sidewalk's mouth tightened, but he said nothing.

"You said you changed your mind," Raoim continued. "Does that mean someone changed it for you?"

"I didn't say that," Sidewalk replied.

"Well, you've been bending over backward trying not to say it. Did someone above you in the chain of command order you to send Rumi out on that patrol?"

"No," Sidewalk growled.

"Okay, then did someone below you ask you to send Rumi out on that patrol?"

Sidewalk averted his gaze, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Raoim turned to the judges. "Gentlemen, whether he says yes or no, it should be obvious that someone asked him to send Rumi out on that patrol, and that this same person also made him promise not to tell anyone. And it's my guess this person was Rumi himself." He turned and walked over to Riva. "Did your brother mention anything to this effect?" he asked.

Riva sighed. "As I have said again and again, he told me nothing."

The hawk nodded. "That's right, you were separated from the others, you were captured, and then one of you was shot by a near-sighted Hesban soldier."

Riva blinked. "Why do you say he was near-sighted?" the mouse asked angrily. "Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?"

"No, no joke," said Raoim. "It's just that there was a man lying dead on the ground wearing a gold bracelet worth probably a month's pay, and he missed it. And then you broke and ran, and he fired, and he missed you, too." He turned to Sidewalk. "Lieutenant Shaver, what did they tell you when Rumi and Riva were captured by the enemy?"

"They didn't tell me anything," Sidewalk replied. "The rest of the patrol wasn't with them when they were captured."

Raoim turned back to Riva. "So, there you and Rumi were, both of you with your hands in the air, and the Hesbans shot him."

Riva nodded. "In the back."

Raoim went over to Rumi's shirt and combat fatigue jacket lying on the table, pulled off his own jacket and shirt, and put Rumi's on. "Umpolo, would you come over here, please?" he asked. The mouse rose and went over to the hawk, who stood with his back to him, arms lowered. "How does the bullet hole in the shirt line up with the hole in the jacket?"

Umpolo inspected them. "They are the same."

"Okay, now let's try it the way Riva says your brother was shot," said Raoim, raising his arms.

The mouse checked them again. "The hole in the jacket is about three inches above . . . the one in the shirt," he said, dawning realization in his voice.

"What does all this mean?" asked Andir impatiently.

Raoim turned to face him. "It means your brother was shot with his arms down."

Sidewalk looked skeptical. "With his back to the enemy?"

Cavirago slowly rose from his chair, trembling, his hands gripping the table before him. "There was no enemy, Mr. Shaver," he said, his voice thick, his eyes fixed on Riva. "Rumi was killed by his own brother!" He sank back into his chair, still staring at him.

There was a long moment of silence. Then Riva jumped to his feet, shouted something in Itustan, and ran to his father, grasping the old mouse's hands and yelling at him pleadingly. Cavirago withdrew his hands and looked away. Riva ran to Andir, to Umpolo, to Boas, and finally to Treseta, speaking imploringly to them. Each turned away, unable to face him. At last, he wandered to the center of the courtyard, standing there alone.

"I begged him," the mouse said, "'Rumi, turn back, or we will both be killed! We are alone! No one will see!' He would not listen. 'We must complete our mission,' he said. 'If you do not come with me, I will leave you here and never speak to you again.' He said this to me, his own brother! I asked him why. He said, 'We must prove we are not cowards. We must not dishonor the family.' He turned his back to go." Riva trembled. "I could not bear it! I raised my gun . . ." He pulled his pistol out of his jacket and looked down at it. Then, he raised it to his temple. Sidewalk, who was closest, leaped from his chair and ran toward him.

He didn't even make it halfway.

A gunshot rang out, echoing through the courtyard, and Treseta screamed as Riva's body fell to the ground.

For almost a full minute, nobody moved or spoke, save for Raoim, who silently took off Rumi's shirt and jacket and put his own back on. Then he went over to Sidewalk, who was standing beside Riva's body, looking down at it, and placed a clawed hand on the tiger's arm. Sidewalk glanced at Cavirago, who sat in his chair, head bowed, eyes closed. The tiger shook his head, and then he and the hawk left the villa together, got in their car, and drove off. The courtyard was silent, save for the sound of Treseta's sobbing.