I was saving the lives of a lot of livestock, but it wasn't doing my nerves any good.
The judge asked in a voice that managed to be both friendly and condescending, "Could you explain what you're about to do so we'll understand what's happening and for Elaine--Ms. Beck--to get it into the court record?" He motioned at the dark-haired woman at her little folding stool and table.
His request stopped me. In all the years I'd been raising the dead, no one had ever asked me to explain. Most people treated me like a dirty little secret. Something you may need to do, but you don't want to know the details. Like sausage making. People love eating sausage, but they don't want to know too many details about how it's made.
I closed my mouth, then managed to say, "Fine." Of course, since I'd never explained before, I wasn't sure how to explain at all. How do you explain magic to people who don't do magic? How do you explain psychic gifts to people who have none? Hell if I knew, but I tried.
"First we'll do a circle of protection," I said.
Salvia asked, "I have a question for Marshal Blake."
"She's not a witness, Mr. Salvia," the judge said.
"Without her abilities, this testimony would be impossible to retrieve. Is that not true, your honor?"
The judge seemed to think about that for a second or two. "Yes, but all I've asked of the marshal is that she explain the mechanics of what she is about to do. That isn't witness testimony."
"No, but she is an expert witness, the same as any other forensic expert."
"I'm not certain that an animator is a forensic expert, Mr. Salvia."
"But she is an expert on raising the dead, correct?"
Again the judge thought about it. He saw the trap that his little request for an explanation for the court record had gotten us into. If I had information for the court record, then my information was suddenly open to questioning by the attorneys. Shit.
"I will concede that Marshal Blake is an expert on raising the dead."
Laban, the head attorney for the other side, said, "I think we'll all agree to that. What is the defense's point?"
"If she's an expert witness, then I should be able to question her."
"But she's not giving testimony," the judge said. "She's explaining what she's doing so we'll be able to follow along."
"How is that different from collecting any other evidence?" Salvia said. "If she were any other expert, I would be allowed to question her methodology."
I had to give it to him, he was making a point. A point that could keep us here for hours.
"Your honor," I said, "may I ask Mr. Salvia a question?"
The judge gave me his long, considering look, then nodded. "I'll allow it."
I looked at the lawyer. He wasn't that much taller than me, but he stood straight for every inch of it. So did I, but his stance was more aggressive, as if he were squaring himself for an attack. I guess in a way he was.
I'd testified in court a few times when a lawyer got clever and tried to win an appeal on a zombie who had said this will is real, not this one. I'd even been called into court for an insurance company that decided to appeal the zombie's testimony on the grounds that the dead were not competent to give testimony. I'd stopped getting dragged into court to defend myself after I'd offered to bring the zombie into court to give open court testimony. The offer was accepted. And that was back in the days when my zombies actually looked more like the shambling dead than a person.
We'd all made the papers, and the media had made much of the fact that the mean of company had traumatized the family a second time. In fact, it had been the beginning of a countersuit for mental distress. The insurance company would eventually pay more in the second suit than in the original life insurance claim. Everyone learned their lesson, and I got to stay in the cemetery and out of the courtroom. But I'd spent weeks being drilled with the argument that I was not a true forensic expert. Salvia was about to hear me spit that argument back at him.
"Mr. Salvia, would you say that most evidence is open to interpretation depending on which expert you get to interpret that evidence?"
He considered that for a moment. Most lawyers won't answer questions fast, especially not in court. They want to think it through first. "I would agree with that statement."
"If I was here to collect DNA or some other physical evidence, my actions might be open to scrutiny, because my method of collection could impact how reliable my evidence was, correct?"
Micah gave me a look. I shrugged at him. I could talk lawyer-speak up to a point, in a good cause. Getting us out of here before five a.m. was a good cause.
Salvia finally answered a cautious "I would agree. Which is why I need to question your methods, so I can understand them well enough to represent my client."
"But, Mr. Salvia, what I'm about to do is not open to interpretation of any kind."