[REND] 14.2 - Human Rights of the Non-Humans

“Recall, Marty, the Due Process Clause in the Bill of Rights,” said Professor Holtz, striding near the students’ tables. “No one shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law—this does not apply to Adumbrae, yes. One can view that the Bill of Rights ensures ownership of property and its bundle of concomitant rights. Ergo, Adumbrae don’t have property rights.”

Ergo. Sounds like the name of a French pastry. But ‘ergo’ was Latin, I think? Latin pastry. What were Latin pastries? Bread with honey or something?

I was distracting myself because I was pissed off with this talk of Adumbrae lacking rights. I owned my stuff, whether the law says so or not. I’d invoke the aged tradition of ‘try taking my stuff and I’ll kill you.’

It worked for my ancient ancestors during a time when there were no laws. It should also work for me. Like, everything in my pocket was mine. The phone that I borrowed from Deen… okay, not that. I also had the bullet from the first time I was shot, and the crystal that I had dug out from my palm. Those were definitely mine.

Although… I probably shouldn’t bring these precious souvenirs around. But I really wanted to.

“Even if Adumbrae are not protected by the Due Process Clause,” said Professor Holtz, “they are required to be verified as Adumbrae. Human, until proven otherwise.” The professor then rattled off the long line of jurisprudence on the matter to show off his memorization skills. There was no need to memorize all that shit because we could look it up.

The thing in movies where lawyers debated in the courtroom, throwing around this or that laws and cases to support their arguments, rarely happened. I found out in law school that most of lawyering was tedious paperwork. No one was stopping you from researching books or the internet.

While Professor Holtz forgot that this was Real Property Law class, lecturing about Constitutional Law instead, I opened my right hand to check the inhuman growth situation. It was safe because there was no one beside me.

An unspoken rule in law school was that the back rows of classes with lenient professors were reserved for people busy preparing for the next class or catching up on assignments. Meryl and Alexis, sitting on the row below mine, were studying for an elective I didn’t get: ‘USBID and the Panderton Act’. I could see the presentation on their laptop screens.

Panderton Act… The law allowing the BID to be judge, jury, and executioner in all matters Adumbrae. Given my current predicament, I should enroll in that course next semester. Might be helpful given the crystals on my palm.

Crystals. Plural.

The first crystal had grown larger while a smaller one popped near it.

Did it grow because I tried on the mask last Monday night? Without transforming, the crystal and golden veins still spread; I knew that. But using the wolf mask might’ve accelerated the process. Or was our training yesterday the culprit? This happened overnight, so a higher chance that it was the training. My superstrength and regeneration got a huge workout during that hysterical strength stuff.

I’d know tomorrow since Deen and I were going to train later. Even if my suspicion was proven true, I’d still push through with training because I had to be as ready as I could be to attack the docks this Friday. Only two days left. Any hastened transformation was inconsequential once I’d found some sort of cure at the docks.

If things get desperate, more desperate than they were, I could reveal my secret to Dario. I’d blame his idiot ass for the artificial Core malfunctioning or something. That might get the Professor to help me. But I’d rather not do that because of the risk that the secret organization might think I’d be a better test subject than running free around La Esperanza.   

Hopefully, things wouldn’t reach that point. For now, the changes were minor and manageable.

Unless someone focused on my palm, it didn’t look weird at all. I pushed down the pimple patches to make sure they were sticking properly, then I reapplied makeup to blend the patches with my pale skin tone and to disguise the gold vein connecting them. This morning, while eating breakfast, I asked Deen for the best sweat-proof makeup she could recommend and immediately ordered it online.

I wasn’t a sweaty person, mind you. But I’d rather not risk it. It was also a bonding opportunity with Deen, talking about girly stuff. Got to cultivate our connection for when I’d use her someday.

Disguising the crystals was the easy part. What was difficult was preventing myself from absentmindedly picking at it. I couldn’t just ignore the damn thing! I remembered the mysterious woman in ‘The Princess and the Pea’ fairy tale, who turned out to be royalty because she could feel a tiny pea through like twenty mattresses and twenty feather beds.

Was I a princess? Mom told me a few times that I was, but had never presented proof of our alleged royal lineage. Being a secret princess was reserved for the main characters. I had a long way to go before claiming that spot.

That would be so cool if I were a secret princess. Secret royalty, secret Adumbrae. I would become an Adumbrae Queen! Deen could be my lady-in-waiting. Wait… Why would I want to become an Adumbrae Queen? Was Spooky Erind affecting my thoughts?

Satisfied with my handiwork on my hand—I’m so great at wordplay—I returned my makeup kit into my bag.

No problem so long as I kept my right palm concealed. It wasn’t like people touched my hand often.

I wasn’t into having my future predicted through palm reading—one possible instance avoided. What was unavoidable was shaking hands with others once I became a lawyer. By that time, crystals on my hand would probably be the rest of my worry; I might already have horns, sprouted wings, or grown tentacles.

The other problem was the whitening strands of my hair. I had commented about it to Deen, pretending it was due to genes. I already laid the foundation for dyeing my hair—Deen would notice if I’d do it.  

“The latest development is Hutchinson vs. Wyoming, promulgated last year,” said Professor Holtz. “The Supreme Court held that the law does not distinguish between recently-seeded Adumbrae, who mostly retain their mental faculties, and those who are already transforming. They are all categorized as Adumbrae, no matter the stage of infection. Now, why do I say this is a development?”

I heard about that case, but couldn’t recall what the noise was about. There were protests against some dissenting justices, with some politicians calling for their impeachment. Fortunately, Professor Holtz was there to remind me what happened.

“It was the voting,” he explained. “Six to three, upholding the State of Wyoming’s right to order the forfeiture of the property of a recently infected person. Everyone expected the voting to be unanimous. Or at least eight to one, with Justice Meriga dissenting. But two more justices joined the dissent, each writing their own opinions. Marty, what was their stance?”

Marty hesitantly stood up, not expecting to be called to answer. “Uh, sir… I didn’t follow the case that closely. I haven’t read the dissenting opinions.” I bet this moron asked a question earlier to make himself appear attentive in class. He made Professor Holtz think that he was invested in the topic.

“I advise you to read it in your free time,” said Professor Holtz. “Not just Marty. All of you. Not only is it interesting… controversial, yes… but it shows a possible future trajectory of caselaw. Therein, the dissenting justices were of the thought that forfeiture should be carried out only when the infection has ‘sufficiently progressed’—that is the standard proposed. No concrete parameters yet. Now, Adumbrae rights activists seized on this phrase to trumpet support for their cause.”

A wave of angry murmurs crept through the room. Unsurprisingly, most people thought that the Adumbrae rights activists were crazy. I still did, even though I was an Adumbrae. It was insane to trust the infected. Didn’t people learn this from movies? Whether it be a zombie movie or an Adumbrae movie, it was always the wrong move to trust the infected.

Heck, I had killed three people already. Brought down a building, too. If I were in a zombie movie and got bitten, I’d bite others out of pettiness. And the drama.

A hand was raised. “Sir, what about the case of the McHunters’ property?”

Professor Holtz chuckled. “I suppose it’s time we return to Property Law. The McHunter’s topic will be extensively discussed in the latter half of the semester, but we can have some preview now. The property under Raphael McHunter’s name was ordered forfeited to the government. But… there was nothing to forfeit. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you know what the McHunters did to preserve their vast wealth?”

“Under his name…” I muttered under my breath. Even a monster could do some estate planning. What if I became a lawyer for Adumbrae? Attorney-client privilege would protect our secret—or maybe not, since Adumbrae didn’t have rights. Still, a cool idea for a career path.

“If your answer is that Raphael McHunter transferred his property to his children while infected,” said Professor Holtz, “then you’d be correct. It’ll be a fascinating discussion on how they did it. Laws were drawn up afterward to plug loopholes. Hmm… I suppose I can talk about it somewhat now.”

It took twelve minutes—I timed it—for the discussion to return to the syllabus. By then, half of the period had passed. The rest of the class was uneventful. I spent it watching videos on my phone underneath the table, learning how to punch and kick properly. Never in my life did I imagine that I’d try to learn how to fight. I was a small girl, as much as I hated to admit that. I wasn’t going to win a fight against a huge guy even if I learned martial arts, which I have. Judo, at one point. I always groaned when I saw actresses in movies throw around guys twice their size.

But now that I was an Adumbrae, I could do exactly that. It was such a fun feeling intimidating Overdrive and his men. Power fantasy genre.

After class, the eventfulness of things had returned. Ramello was waiting for me outside the classroom.

Was he going to ask me out for lunch? He knew that my next subject was at three. My mind rushed whether I should brush him off or talk to him. His face looked worried—this might be something else.

Fine, I’ll talk with him. “Hi, Ramello,” I said, brushing my hair away from my face. Let him think that I cared about my appearance when facing him. I tucked my hair behind my ear, acting all cutesy. Feminine wiles activated. “What’s up?”

“Erind, can we talk?” He nudged his head down the hall, away from the other students trooping out of the classroom.

“Sure, yeah. But I’ll have lunch with Deen in a bit.” There, I had my exit if needed.

“This is going to be quick,” he said while we walked. “How have you been lately?”

“Doing good,” I replied with obviously fake cheer. I had practiced this many times in front of the mirror. I’ve gotten back into the swing of things. “Yup… doing good. Definitely…” I flickered a pained expression to make him concerned. This could be about the Adumbrae attack. Why else would he ask me that question?  

“Listen, my uncle told me to observe you.”

“Huh? Observe me?” Uh-oh. Tower Cop was setting up his second appearance in the series. “Your uncle, as in Sergeant Hall? Why?”

“Yeah, him,” Ramello continued in a low voice. “Didn’t tell me why. But it must be something serious for him to ask me to do it.”

“Oh…” How should I go about this? Disclaim anything and find out what Tower Cop knew. “Am I in danger?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Uh, does he think that I’m up to no good?”

“Not that either. He’s worried about you. I think that’s it. The missing fourth Adumbrae’s been dwelling in his mind.”

My mind was already thinking of ways to dispose of Ramello and Tower Cop. But I shouldn’t act too hastily. I doubted that Tower Cop had an inkling that I was an Adumbrae. This was probably something else. “Wait, what about that Adumbrae? Does he think it’ll go after me?”

“I’m not sure,” Ramello replied. His eyes darted around everywhere but me. He knew why Tower Cop was interested in me. “It’s just that some survivors have been disappearing,” he added in almost a whisper. He shook his head. “Never mind that. Anyway, is there anything new with you lately?”

This is the 2Ms’ fault. “New? Uh, I don’t think so… other than I’ve made friends with Myra. Myra Fletcher, the sister of Kelsey.” It was possible that Tower Cop kept on observing me after our meeting. I needed some explanation for this. “I remember that you’ve told me to attend the memorial service for some peace and closure. I think I’ve found closure, but Myra hasn’t. I want to help her by being her friend.”

Ramello’s concerned face softened into a smile. “You’re awesome for doing that, Erind. I may have a clue about what my uncle’s on about. I heard him mention that Kelsey’s total disappearance is suspicious.” He was opening up.

“They… they really haven’t found any trace of her?”

He shook his head. “Don’t tell Myra, okay? What I’ve heard is that even if people get eaten by Adumbrae, there should be some remains inside the monsters’ stomachs. In Kelsey’s case, Uncle told me that they haven’t found anything yet. Yet. I’m sure they eventually will. It’s hard work piecing together body parts and DNA testing them. It might take weeks to be completely certain. Unfortunately, Uncle seems to think there’s something wrong with this.”

“And he probably saw me hanging out with Myra while investigating her,” I said. Probably the other way around. Tower Cop spotted me with Myra and checked her. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m a criminal and arrest—”

Ramello held up his hands. “No, no! That’s not happening.” He carefully patted my shoulder as if I might suddenly slap him. I wanted to. But I also didn’t want to separate his head from his shoulders in public. “It’s just uncle’s paranoia acting up sometimes. He’ll get things under control once other cases pile on his plate. You have nothing to worry about.”

I put on a concerned face. “How can you tell me not to worry when a cop’s actively investigating me?”

“You’re innocent. There’s really nothing—”

“We’ve both taken up Constitutional Law. We’ve both read cases about cops violating procedure. I’m not saying that Sgt. Hall is a corrupt cop. Just that in the pursuit of justice, he might become too overzealous and make a mistake. I don’t want anything to do with what he’s investigating!” A bit of dramatic flair to pressure Ramello to side with me.

“Erind, that’s not gonna happen. I promise you,” said Ramello. “Uncle’s not making a mistake like that again, falsely accusing innocent people. Which is why I’m confident he’ll eventually put this matter to rest. I’ll convince him, okay? I was just giving you a heads up in case he questions you.”

“Okay… What did you mean by ‘a mistake like that again’? Did something happen in a past case of his?”

Ramello frowned as he scratched the back of his head. “It’s a rather old case. I don’t want to—oh, Amber’s coming. Enjoy your lunch!” He then fled as if I had rejected him.

“Erind, what was that?” Deen asked, coming up to my side.

“I’ll tell you later.” Could I get Deen’s help to get rid of Tower Cop?