The living alarm screeched; its piercing sound a mere half-second of warning before a mass of black-and-white feathers tore into aluminum, polycarbonate, and whatever else was now falling out of the sky and into the orange orchard. A few drops of blood fell with the remnants of the drone, but the harpy eagle looked no less majestic despite the small wound near its talons.
“Old Girl’s still got it.” Derek said to himself, navigating the debris field with a knapsack on his back, a thick brown leather falconry gauntlet over one hand and a fresh cutlet of veal in the other. He held out his arm and she landed. She was certainly the quickest 41-year-old Derek had ever met.
She was also the most impatient, not even asking for her reward. Instead, she ripped the cutlet out of Derek’s left hand and swallowed the thing whole, not even bothering to tear it up, unlike the other prey she’d caught this afternoon.
Derek gave her a nod then lowered his gauntlet. She understood the signal and resumed her patrol of the property while Derek took a look at what remained of the drone. Its silicon viscera shimmered on the grass, its glimmer only partially muted by Derek’s shadow as he leaned over it.
Picking through the damaged chassis, Derek was able to find the remnants of sensors and cameras. Another recon unit. He sighed. “They’re checking to see if you’re dead Old Girl. Probably checking to see if I’m dead too. It has been just about thirty years after all.” Derek smirked to himself before starting to pick at the carcass for any salvageable components.
The next morning, Derek awoke to a knock at the door. He got up slowly, thinking that one of the techs who maintained the harvester drones was coming to him with a problem. Instead, Derek was greeted by half a dozen police officers.
Their uniforms were not the forest green of Inland Empire officers. Instead, they wore midnight blue uniforms with red piping and matte black sunglasses to match their (supposedly) bulletproof vests.
“Derek Hobbes, consider yourself served.” The lead officer said, handing Derek a stack of ruffled papers before he could even speak.
“What the hell is this? You have no right to be here. Do I need to remind you who won the war?” Derek said, his face a mixture of disdain and contempt.
“Very cute Mr. Hobbes, but we do have a right to be here. Everything is explained in those papers. And don’t worry, it’s just a civil case, so we’re going easy on you. Well, not you exactly.” The officer’s grin could’ve held a dump truck’s worth of fertilizer. They were smart enough to leave the property before Derek could finish reading; the weight of their three armored trucks cracked the surface of the pavement.
The heading on the first page read:
REPUBLIC OF CALIFORNIA DEPARTMENT OF NATIONAL DEFENSE, Plaintiff
vs.
“OLD GIRL,” A HARPY EAGLE, Defendant
SUMMONS AND COMPLAINT FOR TORTIOUS DAMAGE OF PROPERTY
VENUE: NATIONAL COURT OF THE REPUBLIC OF CALIFORNIA: DISTRICT OF SALINAS
JUDGE: ADESEWA OYEWOLE; SUMMARY HEARING REQUESTED & GRANTED
Derek didn’t even get to the end of the page before accidentally shouting aloud: “Wait, they’re suing MY BIRD!?!?”
After cooling off for half an hour or so, Derek gave his lawyer a call.
“Law Office of Catarina Rivas —How—” Came a rehearsed, sing-song voice from the other end. Derek cut it off.
“Good morning Catarina. Sorry to bother you so early, but it’s urgent.” Derek said.
“No problem Derek. It’s not like you’re a flat fee client.” Catarina laughed, her voice already much more sincere now than it was in her greeting.
“Anyway Derek, how can I help you? Did you have questions about those advance directive docs we set up last month?” Catarina said.
“No. Those were perfect. I’m being sued. By California. Well, not me. My bird.” Derek said.
“I’m sorry. What?” Catarina laughed for half a breath.
“I know that it sounds like a shitty joke. But she took out one of their recon drones yesterday. Obviously it sent back footage of the incident before it was destroyed. Took them all of 16 hours to file suit and track me down.”
“Ok. Lots of problems here. But first, when’s the hearing?”
“Seven days exactly. Apparently they requested a summary hearing.” Derek said. “Don’t know as much about the law as you do, but I’m guessing that’s not good for me. Or her.”
“You’re right. How long have you got?”
“One week. Not a lot of time to prep a defense. Think you can do it?”
“Unfortunately not. I’m not licensed in Cal; they don’t allow any IE citizens who are licensed here to practice there. If I were born a few miles to the North or West, you’d be in luck, since Cal citizens are allowed dual certification. That said, I can still help you strategize. I’ve got a couple ideas. All come with their potential problems of course; everything is a tradeoff, and doubly so with the law. First, you could argue that your bird isn’t even a proper Defendant, being an animal and all, and therefore the whole suit should be dismissed.” Catarina said.
“That sounds great! What’s the catch?”
“Well even if the court agrees with you, California could still bring an asset forfeiture proceeding, since Old Girl is your property and you didn’t control her adequately, they could seize her.”
“Which they want to do anyway because they know she’s one of the last survivors of Howard’s Harpies.” Derek said.
“Exactly. Technically, at least from what Cal law I know—they restrict our access since we can’t be licensed there—they’re supposed to start a whole new proceeding, serve you again, and have another hearing. Unfortunately, given that she was part of Howard’s Harpies, they’d probably just move for a new hearing immediately. That means you have to be ready to argue both cases in one sitting.” Catarina said.
“Not surprised.” Derek snorted, taking notes on a legal pad in the hope it would turn him into an effective de facto lawyer for the next little while. “So Catarina, how do I fight the second case?”
“Well first, you can argue lack of intent. Old Girl is a predator, and knocking rivals out of the sky is what harpy eagles do. She isn’t smart enough to be negligent or reckless when she destroys something, and tortious destruction of property requires at least negligence. If a Defendant cannot have that intent, the complaint is asking for something impossible, and should be dismissed.” Catarina said.
“Yeah, problem is she’s far from a typical household pet. They know she’s been trained to do exactly what she did a yesterday. She’s an ace dozens of times over, thank God.”
“You made the counterpoint before I could get there; maybe I should bring you on part-time when my caseload gets heavy.” Catarina laughed. “That said, I agree that her service will be a problem in more ways than one. So you need another argument, namely that the drone was trespassing on your property.”
“It was!!!”
“According to common sense, it definitely wa. Unfortunately, air rights don’t extend up forever. If the drone was flying high enough, it was technically not on your property.”
“I guess the sensors will answer that question. Bullshit as it is.” Derek said.
“They will.” Catarina said, pausing for Derek to ask any more questions. After a brief silence, she spoke again.
“To sum things up: First, you ask to dismiss the complaint since Old Girl cannot be a defendant. If that fails, argue that Old Girl lacked intent, as intent is an element of the torts she allegedly committed. If there’s no intent, the complaint doesn’t state a claim the court can act on, think like if they sued an infant or someone with severe dementia. If those both fail, then argue that the drone was trespassing on your property. I know this is a lot, but you should be ok repping yourself. The people running the show over there can’t even see what’s in front of their faces, let alone above them. And besides, I’ll be there with you next week for moral support.” Catarina said.
The next week, Derek and Catarina went on a long car ride with Old Girl in tow. She had free reign of the back of the car, her wingspan nearly reaching from door to door. She spent most of the trip asleep as Derek and Catarina went over everything one last time.
After an hour’s drive through the farmlands of the Inland Empire, the landscape started to turn to desert, with the car finally reaching the sandy border outpost of Coalinga. There were only three industries there: the glassblowers who took advantage of the rich silica sand surrounding the town, the fireworks manufacturers that were there well over a century before The Split, and security personnel for the nearby border outpost.
They pulled over a bit before the crossing, with Derek getting out of the passenger seat and grabbing a cage from the trunk.
“Sorry Old Girl. You’ll be out of here in a minute.” He said, putting a scrap of meat on her perch. She was as obedient as she was reluctant, gobbling up the snack before Derek closed the door, giving her a couple more as a token of his gratitude.
The car pulled up to the border crossing where it was greeted by an officer in a very similar uniform to the ones the officers who served Derek wore, but with the primary color being deep red rather than blue.
“State your business.” The guard said. He was quite young, and his face was the type that was impossible to read even without the oversized aviators that seemed to cover a full 1/3 of it.
“Court appearance. Got copies of the docs here.” Derek handed the guard the Summons and Complaint, as well as his ID.
“Interesting case here.” The guard said, stoic as ever. “I’ll take it you’re Derek and *that’s* Old Girl.” He pointed at the bird.
“Yes officer. That’s correct.” Derek said.
“Then who might you be?” He gave Catarina the slightest hint of a smirk, apparently not minding that she was near double his age.
“I’m Catarina Rivas, a friend of Derek’s. He’s very shaken up by all this and I thought I’d offer him some support. Plus he’s such a wreck that he can’t even drive.” She said, handing over her ID.
“And what is your business in Salinas? Are you representing Mr. Hobbes?”
“I’m a lawyer, but no, I’m not representing Derek today. All this international sovereignty stuff is a little too much for me. I just do the basics: real estate transfers, wills, powers of attorney, business entity creation, the odd secured transaction for farming or industrial equipment. That’s just about all we folk in the Inland Empire really need.” She shrugged.
“I’m shocked you even need that much.” The officer said as Catarina forced a laugh. Apparently classism was the only thing that got him going.
“Well, best of luck with whatever you’re dealing with.” The officer said, his eye roll obvious even through his sunglasses. He handed them back their ID’s and the car drove away, with Old Girl finding a way out of her cage before Derek could do it for her.
Some time after, the car reached Salinas, a city that had grown quite a bit over the last few decades, with new residents coming from North and South for its relative affordability more than anything else. This growth led to the generation of micro-neighborhoods of expats from either Silicon Valley or L.A., as well as improvised streets with a smattering of hastily constructed rowhouses, duplexes, accessory units, and the like to incorporate the new residents.
After navigating the messy yet charming pastel ring around the city center, Catarina finally reached the courthouse; a squat structure with an imposing columnated facade that looked almost neoclassical, yet also had modernist glass windows. The building was almost as bizarre an amalgamation as the case against Old Girl was.
“Thank you again Catarina. And yes, I remember. Dismiss for lack of standing, dismiss for impossibility of intent, defense that the drone was trespassing.” Derek said, only looking at his notes once.
“Very good. You can always ask to approach the bench or ask for a recess if you’re having trouble. And just refer to the other side as Plaintiff; don’t worry about official titles or anything. It’s much easier.” Catarina said as Derek got Old Girl back into her cage.
The two did the same act with the court security, who wore the same uniforms as their compatriots, except theirs were gray with yellow-and-white piping before entering the courtroom. Derek and Catarina had to pass through the metal detector; thankfully, Old Girl did not, on account of her cage being completely metal.
Catarina took a seat in the gallery while Derek plopped Old Girl’s cage on one of the benches.
“Hey genius, you’re at the wrong bench.” Came a voice from behind Derek. He turned to see a man in a pristine navy blue suit, pink shirt, gold tie, brown belt, and brown shoes. While the latter two items looked like leather, the man’s tone and facial expressions made Derek think they weren’t made of cow leather.
“Sorry if I spooked you. I was joking. I’m Jonathan Hsai, representing our Grand Republic of California.” He set down the tablet and offered his hand.
“Derek Hobbes, representing my bird.” Derek shook it, and was a bit surprised to see this aesthete could actually squeeze.
“That is quite the bird you have there. A real majestic specimen. Imagine if her power could’ve been harnessed for good.” Hsai said.
“It was.” Derek said. Hsai looked ready to rip open his jugular for half a second, but Derek was granted a reprieve by the bailiff, who said “All rise” before Hsai could properly respond. Hsai straightened his posture and went to his bench as if nothing had happened.
Judge Oyewole walked in, her braids as black as her knee-length robes, and roughly 2/3 as long. She nodded at both parties before ascending to her bench.
“Be seated everyone. We are now on the record. The case at bar is the Department of Defense against Old Girl, a harpy eagle, regarding the alleged tortious destruction of property. This is an expedited hearing because it concerns a matter of national security. Are the parties present?”
“Yes your honor. Jonathan Hsai, representing the Plaintiff.”
“Your appearance is noted Mr. Hsai. And for the Defense?”
“Derek Hobbes your honor. I am not an attorney, but Old Girl is my bird, if you couldn’t tell.” Derek said, keeping eye contact but fidgeting just a bit. He hadn’t been on enemy territory in awhile.
“I can see that Mr. Hobbes. Your appearance is noted.” Judge Oyewole said.
“Now, to business. Mr. Hsai, I have to say I’m confused by the Plaintiff’s approach here. Mr. Hobbes is the rightful owner of the Defendant, who is an animal. Why not just bring this action against him?” Derek was stunned that the Judge was at least partially making his argument for him. He turned to Catarina in disbelief, who gave a quick thumbs up then nodded at him to turn his attention back to the Judge. Derek was no lawyer, but he knew enough not to interrupt when things were going well.
“Well your honor, as you well know, but the Defendant likely does not, one of the terms of the Second Convention, also known as the Split Agreement, was that the Successor States were allowed to accept Supreme Court jurisprudence, even concurrences or dissents, as law. Our Grand Republic chose to consider Justice William O. Douglas’ solo concurrence in Sierra Club v. Morton as law, namely the section that states nature and natural organisms, including but far from limited to birds, should have standing in certain cases.”
“I’m well aware of Morton Mr. Hsai. But that case was about the protection of plants and animals in an ecosystem, not the punishment of a specific animal. Why should I extend standing here when the facts are inverted?” Judge Oyewole said, her tone even more terse than when the proceedings started.
“An excellent question your honor. In my view, it comes down to the fundamental principle of fairness, which along with due process, forms the foundational pillars of our great court system. Without those pillars, this Court would lack the legitimacy required to truly serve the needs of our Grand Republic, as its base would be far too shaky due to uneven standards.” Hsai said.
“That is a novel theory. I still don’t understand why you did not simply go after Mr. Hobbes, even as just a failsafe in case your new idea was unsuccessful.”
“Your honor, if I may, I think I know why the Plaintiff sued my bird instead of me. And it’s not, well, whatever that was about foundations and pillars and all that. I can’t pretend I caught it all.” Derek said.
“Please speak Mr. Hobbes, but keep it short. There is no need to denigrate opposing counsel.” Judge Oyewole said, staring at Hsai the whole time.
“It relates to her military service your honor. She, well, she humiliated Plaintiff during the conflict. So she’s being targeted in this lawsuit as a reprisal of sorts for her success.”
“So you’re saying that the Plaintiff’s actions leading to this proceeding, as well as the filing of the complaint, are arbitrary and capricious?”
“Not arbitrary your honor. May I approach the bench?”
“You may. We’re off the record.”
“I’m sorry to fit into stereotypes your honor, but what does capricious mean? I’m sure I learned it somewhere, but must’ve forgotten it.”
“Nerves happen to everyone Mr. Hobbes. You’d do well not to worry too much about them.” She smiled for a second. “In this situation, capricious means that the other party targeted you for no legitimate reason, filing suit because of an old grudge, sadism, or something like that.” Judge Oyewole said.
“Thank you your honor. I’m ready to proceed.” Derek said.
“We’re back on the record. Whenever you’re ready Mr. Hobbes.”
“Thank you your honor. I believe the Plaintiff’s actions are not arbitrary, but are certainly capricious. Old Girl is a retired member of Howard’s Harpies, a military unit I’m guessing most of you are familiar with. For those who are not—he gave Mr. Hsai a quick glance—Howard’s Harpies were a drone-hunting unit of Harpy Eagles that were part of the Inland Empire Independent Forces, taking inspiration from the French Army’s unit of golden eagles at the turn of the 21st century.”
“I’ll admit I’ve heard of Howard’s Harpies, but I was barely a teenager when the war ended. What made them so special? There are many Inland Empire military assets, even elite ones; why was yours targeted? Especially since Defendant is now retired.” Judge Oyewole said.
“Because she destroyed dozens of drones during the conflict. Almost certainly more than any one person or other piece of military equipment did. The only ones who got close were her fellow birds. Most of Howard’s Harpies are buried with Howard—not literally, your honor—but most of them, like Howard, who they—Plaintiff?—couldn’t find, are deceased. This case is, this case is just a trophy hunting exercise, probably by some general trying to save face before they retire.” Derek said.
“Your response Mr. Hsai?” Judge Oyewole sounded less skeptical at least, even if Derek could tell she wasn’t totally sold.
“Your honor, while it is indeed true that the Defendant served in our neighbor’s military during the Eastern Border Conflict, this suit is being brought because of the destruction of Plaintiff’s property last week, not for those actions.” Hsai said.
“That is certainly correct Mr. Hsai. There is only one count here for the destruction of some rather valuable property destroyed last week, not dozens of pieces of property destroyed decades ago.” Judge Oyewole turned to Derek. “Does Defendant have a response?”
“Yes your honor. While there is only one charge in the Complaint, the drone was on my property in an attempt to bait Old Girl into attacking it. There is no reason that any Cal—any of Plaintiff’s drones should be anywhere near my property. They know that Old Girl is one of the few eagles remaining from Howard’s Harpies and have been trying to bait her for the last year or so. This one just happened to succeed.” Derek said.
“Your honor, I would like to make a few quick points.” Hsai said. “First, this is a civil complaint, not a criminal one. There are only causes of action, not charges. The Defendant is not going to prison, though I guess she is already caged anyway.” Hsai saw Judge Oyewole’s dirty look and quickly changed the subject.
“But more importantly, the reason behind the drone’s dispatch does not matter. The treaty that ended the Eastern Border Conflict allowed for both sides to use unarmed craft in each other’s airspace, where the drone in question was, even if it appears to be over the property Defendant lives on. Air rights do not extend up indefinitely from property lines. California v. Ciraolo, a case that both our Grand Republic and our eastern neighbor agreed to accept at the Second Convention, stated that air rights extend at most 1,000 feet above a property. The drone was taken down at 1,217 feet, as seen by its last sensor report, which we would like to enter into evidence as Exhibit C. We welcome Defendant’s response to this verified, scientific data.” Hsai handed Derek a spreadsheet full of incomprehensible numbers, though a large 1,217 was circled on the upper right corner of the page.
“Mr. Hsai, this exhibit is not in the Complaint. How can the Defendant respond to it?” Judge Oyewole said.
“I’m sorry your honor, the data wasn’t recovered in full until after we filed the Complaint. Normally we’d wait, but given that it’s a matter of national security . . .”
“National security is no excuse to be sloppy Mr. Hsai. However, even disregarding that evidence, Mr. Hobbes’ belief that the drone was baiting his bird is just a hunch, and not enough for me to find Plaintiff’s action arbitrary or capricious.” She hammered the gavel once.
“Still, there are other issues to be worked through here. Namely whether the Defendant can even be a Defendant, and if she can, were her actions justified? I would like to hear further argument on these questions next week. Plaintiff will have five days to prepare papers for submission. Since Defendant is pro se, he does not need to make any filings, but will need to make a spoken defense. Do the parties understand?” Judge Oyewole said. Both Derek and Hsai said “Yes, your honor.” at the same time. The veins in Hsai’s neck and forehead were peeking out a bit, but he dared not risk another round of the Judge’s wrath.
“Good. Once again, Mr. Hsai, you have five days to make additional submissions. I advise you get to work on them promptly. Adjourned.” Judge Oyewole hammered the gavel twice and left the courtroom.
“You kicked some fucking ass in there!” Catarina said as she and Derek walked back to the car.
“Thanks, but I lost the one argument I made.” Derek said.
“You did, but that bar is almost impossible to clear even for Cal citizens, let alone enemies of the state, or as that asshole put it ‘Grand Republic’.” Catarina laughed as she made a sweeping gesture before turning back to Derek. “More importantly, you were able to get the judge on your side. Granted, all you had to do was not be a shitheel like their lawyer was, but you still did well. He really thought he had you with that withheld evidence.”
“The judge saved me with that sensor data; I didn’t know how to respond. Still don’t. If those numbers are real, we’re in deep shit. We can’t argue it was accidental. Everyone involved knows that Old Girl was—and probably still is—the best at what she does.” Derek said.
“Then we put all of our chips on her not being a proper Defendant.” Catarina said. “Problem is, they’ll just re-file a suit against you and turn it into a property forfeiture. So you’ll have a couple more weeks at most.” She said as the car started to get back into the mountains.
“Sounds like I need to contingency plan then. I’ll have to talk to Howard when I’ve come up with something; I’m still too angry to think straight.” Derek said.
“Best of luck talking to the dead. From my experience in estates law, they can be pretty cranky.” Catarina said.
Once he got home, Derek released Old Girl, but only into her enclosure. It was still a dozen times larger than any zoo exhibit Derek had ever seen, but had a roof overhead in case that bastard Hsai and his paymasters wanted to bait her into filing any more complaints.
Once she was on her perch, Derek got out a laptop with a yellow case thick enough to stop a howitzer shell. After entering his name and password, an archaic, all-text chat UI came up, the type that only allowed one line at a time for each participant and auto-deleted after five minutes. It sat open and empty for over an hour while Derek thought of his plan.
“Howard. I need you.” Derek typed after his brain finally figured out a workable outline after rejecting a couple dozen ideas. He kept the laptop open and made himself dinner while he waited for a response. He got one after forty-five minutes, right as he was digging into a slice of his dessert, a tart made from his orchard’s oranges.
“I know. I’ve heard you have a plan to deal with your and Old Girl’s predicament?”
“I do. Well, the start of one.”
“So you want to get her out. And probably yourself too?”
“Her. I don’t see how I walk out of that courtroom a free man.”
“Well I have a few ideas. But I’d rather not start another war. Not yet.”
“Agreed. Besides, I have my affairs in order.”
“Always good to handle those, but don’t worry too much. We won’t leave you to rot.”
“I would hope not. Anyway, back to the plan.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Old Girl stays in the cage so she doesn’t go through the metal detector.”
“So we can sneak some things into her feathers. Jammers probably?”
“Yes. Maybe a small EMP as well. Mess with security’s targeting systems.”
“Then jam the drones once she’s out. Hopefully there’s cloud cover.”
“Yes, we don’t want optical scanning to be viable for the drones.”
“And if it is?”
"Hope she can fly like hell. I’d rather her be dead than caged.”
“Agreed. My unit’s perfect record of zero captured in action must stand.”
“Never heard that one before.” Derek laughed. Howard bragged about that almost as much as he did the thousands of aerial kills his birds had: 4,724 to be exact.
“My man will be over the day of the appearance. Be ready.”
“Understood.” Derek closed the laptop, let out a sigh of relief, and finished his dessert.
The papers arrived in Derek’s inbox three minutes before the deadline. They were two minutes earlier than he’d expected, and five minutes after Catarina had arrived.
“How courteous of that shitheel. Let’s take a look.” She laughed, her leather boots kicked up on Derek’s kitchen table.
“Looks like the first attachment isn’t even a brief or memorandum. It’s a statute. Passed the day after our appearance last week. Shit.” Catarina said.
“Looks like Hsai, or more accurately, the Cal DoD, really has it out for us. The law explicitly states that any trained animal that attacks someone or destroys property is a proper Defendant in an action.”
“Shit. But that law was passed after the complaint was drafted.” Derek said.
“It was, but it’s ex-post facto—sorry, retroactive—to January 1 of this year. And it applies to all trained animals, not just yours, so while you could argue it was a bill of attainder—a bill directed at a specific person—you would likely fail." Catarina said.
“That’s fucking bullshit. I’m guessing the Cal Constitution doesn’t restrict those laws like the 1787 one did.” Derek said.
“Like the 1787 one was supposed to.” Catarina corrected. “But yes, you’re right.”
“So we don’t really have much of a defense, do we? Not if that altitude data is true and it was in neutral airspace.” Derek said.
“Correct. Typically, you would be able to do discovery and dig into how they got their data, but the summary procedures over there seem really strict, so I doubt that will work. You can still try and buy some more time.”
“More time for what?” Derek said.
“You know what for.” Catarina said gravely.
“I do, but that plan’s already in place.” Derek said.
“I’m glad you found one to stick with. In case anything goes wrong, or right I suppose, the farm and the rest of your assets will be transferred to the proper parties.” Catarina said.
“Yes. I cannot thank you enough for all this Catarina.” Derek said.
“You already have. Unless you want to throw in one of those orange tarts too.” Derek gave her two.
The morning of the appearance, an old truck painted a few shades darker than the scarlet sunrise rolled into Derek’s driveway. All analog, and therefore impossible to track. Out came a kid with long, dark hair and round eyes that were just a few shades lighter. While he still had his babyface, even with a smattering of facial hair, the kid’s work as one of Howard’s apprentices and on the family farm had him in more than fighting shape.
“Hey Cam. How’s grandpappy?” Derek asked. He whistled while he waited for Cam’s answer. Old Girl heard his call and swooped onto his falconry gauntlet before Cam had even opened his mouth.
“Not bad. Well, at least by the standards of someone his age. I think we both have experience dealing with some spry oldies. This one over here is basically a hundred-and-twenty herself.” He gave Old Girl a pet under her beak.
“You could say that, but I only know how dog years work, not eagle years.” Derek shrugged. “So, we’ve got the jammers and a micro-EMP?”
“Yes sir. Should be a quick install.” Cam dug into the satchel he was carrying over his shoulder. Derek spun his left index finger around, making Old Girl face him and raise her black-and-white striped tail feathers, each of them nearing a foot long. She didn’t even wince at the tech attachment; if anything, she was used to more, even if it had been decades.
“She’s a very good patient.” Cam smiled, making sure the tech was tight enough to the feathers not only stay attached, but also avoid being caught in an inspection. After another few seconds, he was finished. “Job’s done. Well, my end at least. I’m sorry about all this Mr. Hobbes. It’s just, just so fucking unfair. Everyone in the country, well, everyone who matters in it, knows that this is fucking bullshit. But the cowards in Fresno, they’re, they’re too scared to—” Cam stammered.
“Don’t worry. Howard and I have everything arranged. But in case something goes wrong and I’m not back soon, I’d like to congratulate you on being named one of the new directors of the Hobbes Orange Orchard and Eagle Sanctuary. Catarina should have already sent out the papers.” Derek smiled.
“Thank you again Mr. Hobbes. I hope the other directors know more about business than I do.” Cam said, holding back tears.
“You’ve earned it Cam. And don’t worry, the other four directors all know at least one thing about business, so they’re well ahead of you.” Derek laughed.
“Very happy to hear it Mr. Hobbes. Godspeed, and see you soon.” Cam said, turning away and wiping his face with his shirtsleeve before driving off.
The drive to Salinas was uneventful this time, in part because Derek was alone. The border guard actually wished him good luck, though his tone essentially said “He who is about to die, I salute you!” as if the guard were a spectator watching Derek stare down a dozen starving lions in the Colosseum armed only with a rusty dagger. Still, any positivity was useful. And much more importantly, there was a massive storm coming in off the Pacific, exactly what Old Girl needed. Derek could only hope it would last a few more hours.
Upon his arrival at the courthouse, Derek had to go through an extra layer of security compared to his first visit, another sign that he was about to get a verdict he didn’t like. Apparently the Cals really wanted to make sure he wouldn’t take his anger out on them. But as thoroughly as Derek was checked, Old Girl was allowed to bypass the metal detectors given her cage.
Derek arrived in the courtroom to see Mr. Hsai already there. “It was a valiant defense Mr. Hobbes, but well, you read the papers. At least I hope you could.” Derek just rolled his eyes and ignored Hsai’s outstretched hand, going to his bench.
Judge Oyewole entered and began her boilerplate introduction. Upon finishing she let Mr. Hsai make his argument. He stood and paced around the courtroom, focusing his gaze more on the media in the gallery than Judge Oyewole.
“As both this Court and the Defendant’s representative are aware, our Grand Republic has seen fit to pass a statute into law. This statute was just passed a few days ago, but its effective date is January 1, 2121, and therefore it applies to this proceeding. As there is now no doubt that the Defendant—he pointed at Old Girl—is a proper Defendant, and our data shows that the destroyed drone was unarmed and attacked in neutral airspace, this Court should find Defendant guilty, and incapacitate her from damaging Republic property ever again, however Your Honor may see fit, within reason of course. May I suggest clipping her wings?” He said, the smirk never leaving his face.
"Judge Oyewole nodded. “Do you have anything to say Mr. Hobbes?” Her tone as apologetic as Hsai’s was joyful.
“Yes your honor, I do. Mr. Hsai has talked about fairness being one of the pillars of your ‘Grand Republic.’” Derek couldn’t help but make the air quotes. “And yet, here we have a law passed during a legal proceeding that targets one specific Defendant who can’t speak for herself. Not only that, but the law somehow totally changes a complaint filed before the law was even a thought. This is fuc—fundamentally unjust. Fundamentally unjust.” Derek said, nearly letting his temper get the best of him, his fingers alternating between splaying out and forming fists. Hsai just kept smirking at him
“I understand your anger Mr. Hobbes, but everything done by Plaintiff in this case was constitutional, or at the very least not provably unconstitutional. And not only that, but Defendant, a trained animal, destroyed Plaintiff’s property in neutral air space, just as she’d been trained to do. I see no option but to rule in Plaintiff’s favor. Defendant will be kept here—and be very well cared for—while I write my opinion and decide on how to best give Plaintiff relief. You will be able to take Defendant back to your property once the relief has been granted. Are there any questions?”
“No your honor.” Mr. Hsai said.
“Just one question your honor: May I at least say goodbye?” Derek said.
“Of course.” Judge Oyewole nodded.
“Goodbye Old Girl. I won’t see you for awhile.” Derek said, rubbing her beak through the cage. Then, in one motion, he unlatched the cage and opened it before breaking into Nahuatl. He yelled “Metztli! Xah atateca cuahitl tlaca!” Upon hearing her real name, Old Girl, no—Metztli—took flight. Before she even fully spread her wings, Hsai’s smirk was transferred from his face to Derek’s.
The entire courtroom was so stunned they froze, except for Mr. Hsai, who had the brilliant idea of trying to stop her, running towards the cage. He was too late; she was already out. Metztli’s nearly six-inch long talons tore into Hsai’s face, his blood splattering and pooling on his otherwise crisp white shirt and golden tie, as well as on the hardwood floor. Metztli had opened up four gashes on the right side of his face: three narrow ones from his forehead to his eyelids and a fourth, larger gash from his jawline to the top of his cheekbone.
Hsai first screamed in pain, then winced as he attempted to cover the wounds. After a couple more breaths, he gathered himself and turned to Derek:
“YOU FUCKING BACKWARD IMBECILE INBRED RETARDED HICK!! I’LL HAVE YOU KILLED! AND YOUR FUCKING ABOMINATION OF A BIRD TOO! SHE’S GOING TO BE MY DINNER TONIGHT!!!” Hsai yelled, hunched over on one knee as his wounds continued to bleed; the blood from them coated his hands, his shoes, and the plaintiff’s bench.
Hearing the chaos inside, guards and medics rushed in right as Hsai finished his rant, giving Metztli the opening she needed to fly out. Judge Oyewole was rushed back to her chambers by an escort of the bailiff and two more officers. Another dozen officers stormed in to secure the area. Hsai writhed on the floor, screaming as the medics cauterized his wounds.
Derek looked towards the officers. "Is it too early to plead guilty?” He said as held out his hands, still savoring the moment. The officers obliged Derek with handcuffs and gave him a couple extra shots to the stomach for good measure. The blows only made Derek’s stolen smirk turn into a smile.
Metztli still heard Hsai’s screams as she flew through the Courthouse, the mini EMP auto-triggering so the door controls would malfunction, keeping them open.
She flew through the courthouse so quickly that the guards couldn’t even brandish their weapons, let alone get a shot off. She could smell the rain and hear the thunder outside, getting closer and closer with each turn. Finally, she reached the doorway, and then . . .
There was a drone right outside the entrance, its color the same off-white as the faux-marble columns at the front of the building. It had a firable net attached to a launcher in its center, right between the front two rotor cones. Little did Metztli know that Hsai’s threat to make her dinner wasn’t an empty one.
It fired, only for Metztli to roll to the side, her talons leaving furrows in the wooden flagpole attached to wall before she launched herself at the drone, her talons cutting right through its central processor, just as they had hundreds of times before, crushing it, then throwing the lifeless husk to the floor.
Metztli flew into the storm, bits of drone metal still in her talons. The lightning combined with the jammers embedded in her tail wreaked havoc on the pursuit drones’ sensors. That interference, as well as with her low altitude, kept the drones well away for the rest of the escape.
After a couple hours of flying, Metztli—now back to her civilian identity of Old Girl since she was in friendly territory—reached the old desert outpost of Coalinga. Circumventing a rehearsal of the Separation Day fireworks show, Old Girl turned North-Northeast and kept flying, nice and low as she’d been told, with dozens of concentric explosions of green, tan, and gold illuminating the night sky behind her. After another hour and a half, she finally reached her destination: Hanford.
As for her specific destination in Hanford, the building itself was nothing special. Just an old, cream-colored two-floor house Mission-Revival-style house. Old Girl blended in almost perfectly with the cream paint job, less so with the dulled vermilion roof tiles she landed on. She was perched there for less than a minute before hearing a familiar whistle; a whistle she’d known even longer than Derek’s. One that she’d first heard coming from a teenager that was still unmistakable even in its owner’s middle age. Old Girl fluttered right onto the leather gauntlet, her talons wrapping around its entire circumference.
As she landed, the wind from the storm nearly pulled the old wooden sign up from the front lawn. Its fake-gilt calligraphy read: The Law Office of Catarina Rivas-Howard.
Howard looked up at the raptor, admiring her. “Well Metztli, it looks like we have some unfinished business. Let’s get to work on breaking your daddy out.”