Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
The seat tilted back into place and the door shut with a final sounding thunk. Then the vehicle sped off in a burst of wind which scattered her documents everywhere.
“Oh, no!” Imani gasped, throwing her arms over the papers that were left. There were considerably fewer of them than she had started with—most of them were currently being flattened by the fast moving vehicles in the street beside her, which sped by so quickly she barely caught a blur of color before they were gone again.
Since there was no way to gather the lost documents without being flattened by an alien vehicle going two hundred miles an hour, Imani pulled together the much smaller pile of paperwork and clutched it to her chest.
Well, at least she still had the drive the Kindred operative had given her. Unfortunately, she had no way to look at its contents since the tablet had also been lost, along with most of her paperwork. She could see it, not five feet away from her, already flattened on the road by hundreds of whizzing wheels.
She was going into this case blind and with no way to look at the evidence which might exonerate her client.
The thought hit her like a hammer but Imani wasn’t one to give up easily. Grimly, she gathered what she could. Far up ahead she could see a raised crosswalk, arching high over the busy road. She would have to use it to get to the other side and then walk all the way back down to the legal building.
Imani just hoped she could make it in time. With another glance at her watch, she started off at a brisk pace. It was beginning to seem like someone didn’t want her to make this court date but she’d be damned if anything was going to stop her!
Five
“I’m afraid I can’t let you go in.” The female attendant at the door—who was dressed more like a sex worker than a bailiff as far as Imani could see—sneered at her.
“What? But I made it—I’m on time. I’m even five minutes early,” Imani protested. She didn’t need this right now—it had taken almost forty minutes of walking to finally get to the legal building and find the right courtroom. She was exhausted and her feet were aching. “I’m the councilor for the defendant—I have to get in there!” she exclaimed.
Even though she had no idea what she was going to say or do once she got inside, she thought unhappily.
“I’m sorry,” the attendant snapped. “But you can’t go into Judge Thoughtgood’s courtroom dressed like that.” She nodded in derision at Imani’s conservative button-down blouse and pencil skirt. “I mean, you look like a peasant. The judge will never consider your motions if you cover yourself so completely.”
“My clothes? You’re keeping me out of the courtroom because of my clothes? Because they cover too much?” Imani demanded. She had served with conservative judges back on Earth who demanded that people dress up for their court and not wear jeans or flip-flops or tank-tops, but she had never been told she wasn’t showing enough skin to get into court.
“It’s disrespectful to the court to dress in such a dowdy fashion,” the attendant informed her icily. “I can’t let you in unless you do something about your appearance.”
For a moment, Imani was at a loss. The case was going to start in less than five minutes—what was she going to do? Then she saw a woman walking by wearing a bikini top studded in diamonds and she had an idea.
Quickly, she began stripping off her outer clothing, right there in front of the courtroom door. Off came the white silk button-down blouse and down came the black pencil skirt. Soon Imani was wearing only her bra and panties—thankfully, a nice white lace set which looked lovely against her chocolate-brown skin.
She tied the arms of the blouse around her waist, making a kind of abbreviated skirt, which was open in the middle and still showed her panties. Finally, she took her long black braids down from their tight bun and let them swing free around her shoulders.
She looked up at the attendant who had been watching the whole process with a bemused look on her face.
“Well?” she demanded. “Am I decent now? Can I go into court?”
“Yes…” The woman nodded, a look of grudging respect on her formerly sneering face. “Yes, I think you’ll do—barely. You can go in.”
Imani didn’t thank her. She just grabbed her crumpled skirt, her remaining papers and the tiny drive the Kindred operative had given her and finally entered the courtroom.
Six
“All rise for the honorable Judge Thoughtgood,” another female attendant dressed like a stripper was announcing just as Imani slid into her seat at the front of the courtroom. She looked around as she stood, but didn’t see her client anywhere. Had they not brought him out yet? Where was he?