Entry: July 1, 654 A.E.

Late Afternoon

The Terrible Day

I should have seen it coming. I should have been more careful. But how do you protect against that kind of evil?

I was out at the diggings when it happened. Kellogg had set up camp across the run from mine with Mallin and some hired muscle named Kurt Borch. Goldilocks—one of the new Fuzzies who'd just joined us, a sweet little female—wandered over to their camp. She'd found a pretty silver charm that Ruth Ortheris had given her, and she was proud of it. She just wanted to show someone her new treasure.

Kellogg kicked her. And when she tried to defend herself with her little weapon, he kicked her again. Then he stomped on her. Crushed her to death under his boot. I heard her scream—a sound I'll never forget, a shrill, thin shriek like a file on saw teeth. I ran. When I got there, Goldilocks was on the ground, her fur red with blood, and Kellogg was standing over her. I hit him. I hit him as many times as I could before his bodyguard, Borch, drew a gun on me.

I shot Borch. Three times. Center mass. He went down and didn't get up.

Ruth Ortheris was there. She'd seen the whole thing. She was kneeling by Goldilocks's tiny crushed body, crying. The little silver charm was still around Goldilocks's neck, and it jingled faintly as Ruth touched her.

I've killed men before. Never felt good about it, but never felt bad either when they needed killing. But this—this was murder I'd witnessed. The murder of a helpless, innocent person who'd only wanted to share her joy.

George Lunt, the constabulary lieutenant, arrived within the hour. I made a formal complaint: Leonard Kellogg had murdered a sapient being. And I was being charged with killing Kurt Borch. "Self-defense, Jack," Gus Brannhard said when he agreed to represent me. Gus is the best lawyer on Zarathustra, a mountain of a man with a magnificent beard and a brilliant legal mind. "But we're going to have to prove the Fuzzies are sapient. That's our only defense."