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  "There is also a recording of this interview being made, for my protection as well as yours, so I can not guarantee you privacy."

  "That recording can be sealed as proprietary material." The Judge raised an eyebrow. "You sound uncommonly knowledgeable for your years."

  "I am. Please let me talk to you alone." He nodded to the matron, who quietly retired. "I am not merely a runaway fifteen-year-old girl, H addict and prostitute," Jolie said. "I am a more mature woman who is animating her body as a temporary host and a still more mature woman who is operating during the incapacity of the other one. Can you grasp this?"

  "Certainly this is possible, if the host consents. What would be the purpose in such a grouping?"

  "The host is important to another person, who does not wish to interfere directly. The other ghost is important to me, so I brought her to this host in order to prevent her soul from sinking to Hell, where it does not belong."

  The Judge gazed at a spot on the ceiling. "Allow me to remind you that the charge against you is limited to abuse of an officer of the law, in the circumstances a misdemeanor. You have not been charged with substance abuse or with prostitution, and may not wish to volunteer such information to the court." That's for sure! Vita put in. It seemed she was monitoring this dialogue.

  "Oh, but I do," Jolie said. "In fact, I am prepared to turn state's evidence in exchange for treatment and witness protection."

  You're crazy! Vita protested. The pimp was bad, but not as bad as prison. You know what happens to girl prisoners? I wear a null-preg, null-VD charm to keep me clean, but in prison they get mean, and the charm won't help.

  Startled, Jolie glanced at the girl's wrist. There was the magic band, matching her light brown skin, which she hadn't noticed before.

  "I am not certain you understand what such action would entail," the Judge said. "You would have to remain in protective custody, and with our present limited facilities, that means an adult prison. I believe I would prefer to return you to the street."

  Jolie smiled. "My host would prefer to return to the street too. But I am proceeding on the assumption that she would only become fully addicted to Spelled H. would be mercilessly exploited and abused by her pimp, and would come to a sad end. I also believe that there was reason that we were sent to her, and that she must be restored to her family."

  No way! Vita snapped. My band's no good against that either.

  "To which she does not wish to be restored," the Judge said. "I would suspect that she has been abused there, perhaps sexually molested. But prison is not the answer."

  "Neither is the street," Jolie pointed out.

  His eyes came down to focus on her face. "Tell me more about yourself. Not the host; I mean you the ghost. When did you live, and why did you not go to Heaven?"

  "I don't think that's relevant."

  "It is if you are in control of the body. It is your responsibility that will determine the host's overt actions, and this will help me make a decision."

  Jolie nodded. "Stop me when you've heard enough. My name is Jolie. I was born in southern France in the year 1191 A.D. of common peasant stock. In 1205, when I was fourteen, I was summoned to the house of the local sorcerer, a young man a year my senior but of infinitely greater experience and education and power. He fed me and talked to me and said he wanted my love, and in due course he had it, and I married him. I was killed by a crusader in 1208, but there was enough evil in my situation to put my soul in balance, and I remained with my husband as a ghost. He became a friar, but when he was of middle age, I animated a living woman and tempted him into sin, and thereafter he was prey to a demoness sent by Lucifer, and I could not approach him."

  "Lucifer?"

  "Satan's predecessor. When my husband died, he replaced Lucifer and became Satan. Today I keep company with Gaea instead of with Satan, but I still love him and visit him when I can. Now I am trying to help Gaea's daughter, and—"

  What?

  Jolie bit her lip. "Oh, I said too much! She didn't know, and it wasn't yet time to tell her. I got carried away by what I was telling you—"

  "Some might suppose a person who told such a story was either inventive or crazy," Judge Scott remarked.

  Jolie nodded. "So I might as well finish it while you're still listening. Gaea sent me to Luna, and Luna sent me to help this host. I do not know what her interest in this host is, but I do know the girl needs help, so I am trying to help her. Most immediately, I am trying to get her off the street and off H, and this is where I beseech your help."

  The Judge seemed undisturbed. "Since you are a long-term ghost, you will have mastered the tricks of the trade, as it were. You will be able not only to animate a willing host, but to manifest directly to those who are interested enough to perceive you."

  "Yes. Do you wish me to?"

  "Yes, please."

  Jolie drew herself out of the host and floated in the air beside her. Then she intensified her image until she manifested in her natural living guise: a seventeen-year-old French villain girl. Even so, few could have seen her.

  The Judge looked directly at her and nodded. "Can you speak also?"

  "If you can hear me."

  "I can hear you. Who remains in charge of the host?"

  There was a pause. Then Orlene spoke. "I suppose that's me. I wanted to sink down to Hell, but now I am uncertain. This girl does need help, and it may be my penance to bring her out of her slough."

  "And you are?" the Judge inquired.

  "Orlene. My baby died, and I committed suicide and am trying to reach him in the Afterlife. But the Incarnation of Night played a cruel trick on me, and I can not forgive myself for what it brought me to."

  "Will you, also, vacate the host?" the Judge asked.

  "But she'll sink to Hell!" Jolie protested.

  "Perhaps not, now," he replied. "She cannot be condemned to Hell for evil inflicted on her by another."

  "But she doesn't believe that!"

  "I am coming to believe it," Orlene said. "Certainly I understand now that others have problems as bad as mine, and it behooves me to do what I can to help them, instead of merely giving up." She moved out of the body and floated.

  "Who remains in charge of the host?" the Judge asked again.

  Vita looked around craftily. "Look, Judge, this is all a big mistake. If you'll just let me go—"

  "You would be back on the street in a moment, looking for H," the Judge concluded.

  "I didn't say that!" She glanced at him appraisingly. "I can pay, if you like young flesh." She shaped her hair with her hands and inhaled, trying to enhance her figure in the plain prison dress. "Anything you want, just don't put me in prison or ship me home."

  The Judge nodded again. "Point made. Return to your host, ghosts, and we shall discuss ways and means."

  "But they won't let me have—" Vita protested. Then Orlene approached her from the left and Jolie from the right. She tried to bat them away, but her will was not in it: she knew that only Jolie was competent to deal with the Judge at this stage. So after token resistance, she allowed them to reenter her and resume control.

  The Judge considered for a moment. "I want your commitment, Jolie, that you as the dominant personality will remain with this host until her situation has been clarified."

  "Well, that depends on Orlene, and on Luna. If Luna asked me to leave—"

  "You are referring to Senator Kaftan?" he asked sharply.

  "Luna Kaftan, yes. But I wouldn't want her name brought into this until I know more about her interest in this person."

  The Judge touched a panel on the arm of his chair.

  "Senator Kaftan, please."

  In a moment the air between them flickered and a holo picture of a young man appeared. "Senator Kaftan's office," he said. "Oh, hello, Judge Scott! She's in conference at the moment, but I'll have her call you back."

  "No need, Joe," the Judge said. "Merely inform her that I propose to assume jurisdiction over one of her clients, with her pe
rmission."

  Joe's eyes moved around until they spied Vita. "No problem, Judge; her permission is noted."

  "Thank you." The image faded.

  "What's going on?" Jolie asked, amazed.

  "When you mentioned Luna Kaftan, I knew this was no ordinary case. So I verified that you are what you claim to be, and that this girl, your host, is indeed a concern of Luna's. She wants the matter handled discreetly, so I am assuming personal jurisdiction. But I am not about to take an errant juvenile girl into my home unsupervised. I must have your commitment to remain with her until this matter has been resolved."

  "Your home?" Jolie still was struggling over the Judge's evidently close acquaintance with Luna.

  "There are no appropriate facilities for such a project. My housekeeper will see to your comfort. I will release you on your own recognizance, and you will report to my residence immediately. There you will be able to tend to your host's needs without harassment. Will you make that commitment, Jolie?"

  If Luna knew this man and trusted him, Jolie realized she could do no less. "Yes."

  "Very well. You will be conducted back to your cell. This afternoon you will appear before me formally. Thereafter you will go to this address." He gave her a card. "I will provide a carpet, as the girl's pimp may be on watch for her release. Avoid him."

  "Thank you," Jolie said faintly. What was she caught up in here? The Judge seemed so direct and understanding but taking an underage prostitute into his home? If it wasn't for Luna's involvement, she would distrust this overwhelmingly; as it was, she distrusted it only significantly.

  The matron returned. The interview was over—and what an interview it had been!

  So he does want young flesh! Vita thought.

  Jolie, you can't put her into his power! Orlene thought. You know the sexual imperative of the male!

  Who cares? Vita retorted. He can't be as bad as the pimp was. If I do good, maybe he'll let me have some H.

  No sex! Orlene thought.

  No H! Jolie thought at the same time.

  We'll see, the girl responded smugly.

  If your father molested you, Orlene asked, why are you so eager for sex with strangers?

  I'm not eager, in fact I don't like it. But it's not incest, and if anyone finds out, it won't put my father in prison and break up my family and break my mother's heart. It's the only currency I've got now, so I might as well make it count. The H makes it okay, and it can really make a man jump. Sex is power.

  They reached the cell. "Here is your headache pill," the matron said, proffering a capsule.

  "Headache?" Jolie asked, surprised. Then she realized that the Judge must have ordered it, so she accepted it.

  "Thank you."

  They were alone. Is that H? Vita asked eagerly. "I'm near dying for a sniff."

  "You aren't dying," Jolie said. "I can feel your body, now, remember. It's only a moderate withdrawal discomfort; you really aren't addicted yet, and you aren't going to be. This pill is to ease even that symptom." She put it in her mouth, and it dissolved immediately into sweet juice, which she swallowed.

  Maybe it's just a symptom to you, but it's one hell of a craving for me! Vita retorted. If I were on my own now, I'd be out hustling for it, you bet.

  You will not have it while I'm in charge, Jolie retorted.

  Vita subsided sullenly. It was obvious that she was biding her time and would go for the H the moment she had opportunity. Even though they shared the body, they did not share the craving.

  Gaea is my mother? Orlene asked.

  "It is true," Jolie said, subvocalizing. "I'm sorry I said it like that, but it is true. She birthed you when she was mortal and could not marry, so gave you up to a Gypsy woman, who gave you to the family who adopted you. When she assumed the Office of the Incarnation of Nature, she had the power to influence your life, but felt that would be a conflict of interest, so she made no attempt to locate you. Instead a friend asked me to watch over you, and that I did, visiting you in your dreams. When you died, I couldn't tell her, but I still tried to help you, so that you could achieve some satisfaction. I hoped that I would be able to tell her that you died but were satisfied, but it got complicated."

  It got complicated, Orlene agreed. Jolie, how can you still try to help me, after what I did?

  What did you try to do that was so bad? Vita asked.

  "It wasn't her fault," Jolie said.

  I tried to rape her.

  Vita made a thought-whistle. How could—

  "She was turned magically into a man, whose passion then overwhelmed him," Jolie explained before Orlene could get into more guilt. "I am still trying to help you, Orlene, because I know you, and know that you would never have done such a thing in your normal state, either living or dead. It was the cruel prank of the Incarnation of Night, making you pay for your audacity in wanting your baby back."

  Some prank! Vita thought admiringly. But you know, men do like to do it to women, and you can't trust any man who denies it. That's why I know what to expect from the Judge.

  I don't think so, Orlene thought. The Judge glowed.

  He had a glow on?

  What?

  "She means was he intoxicated or under the influence of some drug," Jolie clarified.

  Oh. No, I mean I can see when a person is right for another, and the Judge is right for anyone. He's a good man, a very good man.

  Jolie had forgotten about Orlene's talent. Some people had individual magic, such as Gaea's for enhanced music, and Orlene's magic was to be able to orient on any person or people and tell by a glow she perceived whether they were suitable for each other. It was interesting that she endorsed the Judge. He had struck Jolie as a good man, but such impressions could be mistaken.

  Well, we'll see how he is when he gets me alone in his house. Vita concluded. You know, I can see why you'd be sent to watch Orlene, she being related to an Incarnation, but I'm sure not related! What's so important about a black teen whore?

  "I wish I knew," Jolie said.

  They relaxed, feeling the lethargy of the pill. It did seem to be countering the drug withdrawal pangs for Vita.

  In the afternoon they were conducted to the formal hearing. Judge Scott sat at his tall desk, in the traditional robe of the office. The clerk read out the charge, and the Judge dismissed it, with a warning to Vita not to repeat the offense. It was all done in a minute, and the next defendant was brought up.

  They walked out of the courtroom and to the carpet access. Immediately a carpet sailed up, recognizing Vita. They boarded, and it took off.

  Vita peered down. There's the pimp's limo! she thought. So he was waiting for me!

  "He was waiting for you," Jolie agreed. "With Spelled H in one hand and a club in the other."

  God, I want to go to him! I mean, for the H.

  You are off the H! Jolie retorted.

  You offered to testify, Orlene thought. You could have gotten that beast locked away. Why didn't you?

  "It's almost impossible to make it stick," Jolie said. "And new pimps and drug runners come in as fast as the old ones are taken out. It's hardly worth dealing with the minor criminals; it's the big ones the law wants."

  The carpet sailed up and over the city, following the established carpet routes. Jolie peered down, noting the activities on the tops of the megabuildings. Some were set up as parks, with shrubs and trees growing, and garden paths, and even fair-sized ponds. Others were set up for sports, with tennis courts, running tracks, game fields and swimming pools. Some were residential, in the archaic sense: little country villages set amid winding roads. The best way to get away from the bustle of the big city was to live on top of it—if you could afford the rentals. Jolie always looked with longing at such developments, because they reminded her of her origin in medieval times, when isolated villages were most of what there was. Were she alive again...

  You really are from long ago, Vita thought, picking up the thought.

  "Yes, I really am," Jolie agreed
wistfully. "I would have been long since dead and gone, if I hadn't died." She smiled, realizing the incongruity of that statement. But it was true: but for the crusade, she would have lived out her life with Parry, learning magic and growing old, perhaps having children and grandchildren. Yet she might also have died of one of the periodic plagues, or in childbirth, or some accident. The average lifetime had been short then. So there were ways in which she was better off now, as a ghost.

  And I thought ghosts were always moaning! Vita commented. You two ghosts aren't spooky at all!

  Jolie laughed. "Not at the moment!"

  The carpet approached an isolated megabuilding. This one was restricted, meaning that the average person couldn't enter it without a special pass. People in sensitive positions normally lived in such buildings: those subject to assassination or harassment, such as government officials, company presidents, prominent entertainers and, of course, judges. Luna—Senator Kaftan—was exceptional in her residence in the heart of the city. But, of course, she had special magic protection.

  Jolie hoped that the Judge would live on the roof, but was disappointed; his suite was buried deep inside the building. The carpet accessed it by descending into a central court and flying along a tube that curved like the inside of some giant serpent. You'd think a judge could do better than this. Vita remarked.

  Not an honest one, Orlene replied.

  That seemed to be the key: Judge Scott was not rich. But this residence would be quite secure from characters like Vita's pimp. It was also not the kind of place from which it would be easy to run.

  At last the carpet halted at a spherical chamber. There were several doors, one of which listed the name ROQUE SCOTT.

  Roque! Vita thought, with a giggle in the background.

  I like it, Orlene thought.

  Oh, I like it too—I just think it's funny!

  They got off the carpet, and it flew away, following whatever orders it had been given. They approached the door, and it opened. A grandmotherly woman stood there.

  "You must be Vita," she said. "I'm a V too: Vaasta. Your room's waiting."

  She glows too, Orlene thought.