Suavely, Dr. Thorndyke strode down the aisle. He faced the judge and
explained who he was and why, then he backed it up with a wallet full of
credentials, cards, identification, and so forth. The judge looked the
shebang over sourly but finally nodded agreement. Thorndyke smiled
self-confidently and then went on, facing me:
"It would be against my duty to permit you to incarcerate this
miscreant," he said smoothly. "Because Mr. Cornell has Mekstrom's
Disease!"
Everybody faded back and away from me as though he'd announced me to be
the carrier of plague. They looked at me with horror and disgust on
their faces, a couple of them began to wipe their hands with
handkerchiefs; one guy who'd been standing where I'd dropped my little
patch of Mekstrom Flesh backed out of that uncharmed circle. Some of the
spectators left hurriedly.
His Honor paled. "You're certain?" he demanded of Dr. Thorndyke.
"I'm certain. You'll note the blood on his finger; Cornell recently
picked off a patch of Mekstrom Flesh no larger than the head of a pin.
It was his first sign." The doctor went on explaining, "Normally this
early seizure would be difficult to detect, except from a clinical
examination. But since I am telepath and Cornell has perception, his own
mind told me he was aware of his sorry condition. One only need read his
mind, or to dig at the tiny bit of Mekstrom Flesh that he dropped to
your floor."
The judge eyed me nastily. "Maybe I should add a charge of contaminating
a courtroom," he muttered. He was running his eyes across the floor from
me to wherever I'd been, trying to locate the little patch. I helped him
by not looking at it. The rest of the court faded back from me still
farther. I could hardly have been less admired if I'd been made of pure
cyanide gas.
The judge rapped his gavel sharply. "I parole this prisoner in the
custody of Dr. Thorndyke, who as a representative of the Medical Center
will remove the prisoner to that place where the proper treatment awaits
him."
"Now see here--" I started. But His Honor cut me off.
"You'll go as I say," he snapped. "Unfortunately, the Law does not
permit me to enjoy any cruel or unusual punishments, or I'd insist upon
your ninety-day sentence and watch you die painfully. I--Bailiff! Remove
this menace before I forget my position here and find myself in contempt
of the law I have sworn to uphold. I cannot be impartial before a man
who contaminates my Court with the world's most dangerous disease!"