Chapter 869

Where a crime is committed, the offender should be tried where the crime occurred. It was a simple enough principle.

Apparently, aliens were exempt.

It didn’t matter if they entered illegally without filing a single request. It didn’t matter if they dragged an interstellar conflict onto Earth or caused massive casualties and property damage while they were here.

S.H.I.E.L.D. could spend weeks risking their lives to capture an alien criminal, only for someone to suddenly appear and shout, "Wait! This is a matter for Asgard! The offender descended to Earth while everyone was asleep! Please allow us to take them home and discipline them ourselves."

And S.H.I.E.L.D. would usually agree.

Then they’d be left to clean up the mess.

It made Earth look less like a sovereign nation and more like somebody’s poorly maintained colony.

The worst part was that everyone had grown accustomed to it.

The underlying assumption was obvious: alien civilizations were more advanced than Earth. Refusing their demands might trigger an interstellar diplomatic crisis—or even a war.

If an alien fleet had actually parked outside Earth’s atmosphere with its guns pointed at the planet, or if the criminal happened to be someone as politically sensitive as Loki, an extraterrestrial prince, then compromise made sense.

The mistake was treating Loki’s situation as the rule rather than the exception.

People had forgotten to ask one very important question.

Were all alien civilizations really that unreasonable?

Take Lorelei.

S.H.I.E.L.D.’s original plan had been to capture her and immediately hand her over to Sif so she could be returned to Asgard. The property damage and casualties she’d caused on Earth would simply be written off as unfortunate collateral damage.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had wanted to preserve its good relationship with Asgard.

But Sif had already made one thing perfectly clear.

Lorelei was an escaped Asgardian prisoner. She had no political status whatsoever.

So why would Earth demanding that she answer for the crimes she’d committed on Earth damage relations with Asgard?

If it did, what did that say about Asgard’s rulers?

And how fragile were their people’s egos?

Sif had said that the Queen had ordered her to bring Lorelei back. She had never said the order was non-negotiable.

In other words, she’d named her price and simply waited for S.H.I.E.L.D. to decide whether to pay it.

Regardless of the grand strategic considerations S.H.I.E.L.D. had been worrying about, abandoning the matter without even attempting to negotiate was simply foolish.

They’d been given an opportunity to make their case.

They hadn’t bothered.

That wasn’t diplomacy. That was surrender.

And constantly bowing your head didn’t earn respect. It earned contempt.

That was why Evenson had arranged for Sigrun to keep Lorelei.

He had no particular interest in making a grand statement about American sovereignty or the sanctity of its laws.

What he wanted was contrast.

The Black Badge could handle extraterrestrial incidents just as S.H.I.E.L.D. did.

The difference was that, when circumstances allowed it, the Black Badge was willing to defend American sovereignty and enforce American law.

After this incident, the Black Badge’s reputation would inevitably rise.

And Evenson had no objection to that.

Back aboard the aircraft, McKenna stood in front of Lorelei with an expression of absolute seriousness.

"Under the authority granted to me by the Constitution, you are under arrest."

She handed Lorelei a document.

"Here’s your arrest warrant. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used as evidence against you in court."

Lorelei stared at her for a moment.

"That’s a lot more civilized than Asgard."

Then she simply extended both hands.

"Go ahead. Put the cuffs on. And how long until I get sent to an American prison?"

She sounded almost eager.

Colson and the others stood nearby, watching in stunned silence.

"What a waste," Colson muttered. "I can’t believe Lady Sif was actually willing to compromise. Asgard agreed to let Earth handle one of their own."

"Only for the duration of her sentence," Evenson reminded him with a smile. "After that, she’ll still be transferred to Asgard."

"That’s at least two hundred years from now."

Colson rolled his eyes.

"At that point, I doubt I’ll be around to complain about it."

He sighed.

"Still, we should have negotiated with Lady Sif. But you just stood there and watched."

Evenson gave him a sidelong glance.

"What did you expect me to do? Start a fight and kidnap her?"

"If we have to fight, I’ll fight," Colson said. "But have you considered what S.H.I.E.L.D. would have to tell the U.S. government afterward?"

"Who said anything about fighting?"

Colson had absolutely no intention of going down that road.

The U.S. government’s patience with S.H.I.E.L.D. was already wearing thin. If S.H.I.E.L.D. attacked Black Badge personnel and forcibly seized a prisoner from them now, the situation could become irreparable.

"You already have a good relationship with Lady Sif," Colson continued. "And you’re familiar with her. You’re also considerably better at talking than the rest of us. Couldn’t you go over there and negotiate? Convince her to let us take the prisoner?"

Evenson stared at him.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You didn’t negotiate when you had the chance. Now that they’ve agreed to leave the prisoner here, you want to demand her back?"

He snorted.

"And naturally, you want me to be the one to do it."

Colson straightened proudly.

"I’m a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. We’re specially trained professionals. We’re not supposed to worry about embarrassing ourselves."

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"That’s quite a speech."

"We only worry about it when it’s exceptionally embarrassing."

"You’ve got another thing coming."

Evenson folded his arms.

"Once someone has accepted the steak you’ve handed them, they’re not going to spit it back onto the plate. And Lady Sif is hardly a nobody in Asgard. She gave her word."

He shrugged.

"She has her reputation to consider. You can’t expect her to take it back just because you finally realized you wanted something different."

Colson studied him for several seconds.

Then his expression became suspicious.

"Wait."

Evenson stiffened.

"What?"

"You haven’t been bought off by them, have you?"

For one brief, terrifying moment, Evenson’s mind went blank.

Had Colson noticed?

Had he somehow figured out that Evenson was quietly favoring the Black Badge?

Where had he slipped?

Then Colson continued.

"I heard you recently received some kind of special civic award from New York."

Evenson’s tension vanished.

"They say the government gave you some pretty generous benefits, too. Your shop doesn’t even have to pay its utilities."

Evenson’s expression darkened.

"How dare you."

He turned on his heel and stalked away.

Colson blinked.

"What just happened?"

"He really is angry," Colson added, baffled.

"Don’t bring that up around him."

Melinda watched Evenson’s retreating back with a barely suppressed smile.

"If he hadn’t gotten that ridiculous award, nobody would have noticed what he did to his utility meters."

Colson fell silent.

Ah.

Right.

Evenson knew engineering.

And everyone knew engineering was the fastest way to spend three generations being poor.

So aside from modifying his car, he’d apparently found other outlets for his talents.

Like tampering with his home’s electricity and water meters.

And honestly, what was wrong with that?

He had saved New York.

He had helped repel the Chitauri invasion.

Surely that entitled him to free utilities.

Apparently, the government disagreed.

Lorelei was now officially in Black Badge custody, and McKenna had already reported the situation up the chain.

When the aircraft landed at the designated airfield, General Hogg himself was waiting with a contingent of U.S. troops.

The importance the government attached to the incident was obvious.

So was the satisfaction on Hogg’s face.

He practically beamed when he saw the Black Badge team.

When he addressed Colson and the others, however, his attitude was noticeably more dismissive.

Then Sif appeared.

Hogg’s entire demeanor changed.

"Lady Sif. On behalf of the President and the United States government, I offer you our most sincere greetings."

Sif stared at him blankly.

Sigrun quietly stepped closer to Hogg.

"If you’re representing the United States and the President, you should first offer your respects to the Queen."

Hogg paused.

"Oh."

He turned back toward Sif.

"The President and the United States government respectfully inquire after the Queen’s health."

Only then did Sif smile.

"The Queen is in good health. Your efforts are appreciated, General."

"Of course. Of course."

Hogg gave a nervous laugh.

"Asgard has long been a valued friend of the American people. Lady Sif’s willingness to respect American law and allow this offender to face justice here on Earth is proof of the enduring friendship between our two nations."

Enduring?

Colson’s eyes narrowed.

Enduring?

If Hogg had been talking about almost any other country, Colson might have believed him.

But the United States?

Their relationship with Asgard hadn’t exactly been around long enough to qualify for an archaeological designation.

Hogg was a soldier, but a general at his level couldn’t avoid politics. He could produce diplomatic pleasantries on command without even blinking.

And then he extended another invitation.

To ensure that Lorelei received a fair trial—and that her rights were fully protected—Sif was welcome to attend the proceedings.

She could even sit on the jury.

Under normal circumstances, allowing an extraterrestrial who knew absolutely nothing about American law to serve on a jury would have been absurd.

But this trial was never really about ordinary circumstances.

It was a spectacle.

Once McKenna’s report reached the government, the President had practically celebrated.

A cabinet meeting was called immediately.

The Attorney General and the Chief Justice were brought in, and the basic direction of the case was decided before Lorelei ever saw a courtroom.

Her sentence had essentially been determined in advance.

The trial itself was merely the procedure.

But it had to be a very public procedure.

An extraterrestrial being standing trial under American law was unprecedented.

It would become a landmark event in both diplomatic and legal history.

More importantly, it was exactly the kind of victory the administration desperately needed.

Public confidence in the government had been slipping. The President had taken a beating over the S.H.I.E.L.D. controversy, and even reelection had begun to look uncertain.

Now an alien was being tried in an American court.

What more could a politician ask for?

This is it.

Forget reelection problems. Who in American history has ever put an alien on trial?

Take that, political opponents.

Mr. President, forget everything else. Get the press conference ready.

Federal judges were already maneuvering for the honor of presiding over the case.

Prosecutors were practically fighting each other for the opportunity to serve as lead counsel.

And because Lorelei knew nothing about Earth’s legal system and had no attorney, public defenders initially prepared to represent her.

They were quickly overshadowed.

Law firms across the country began volunteering their services.

For free.

Some were even willing to pay their own expenses.

Winning or losing barely mattered.

The publicity was priceless.

This was the kind of case that could turn a lawyer into a household name.

The final legal team was absurdly prestigious.

The country’s top federal judges, prosecutors, and defense attorneys all wanted a piece of the case. The courtroom lineup was even more impressive than the legal spectacle surrounding Fisk’s trial.

And the trial itself quickly became a performance.

The judge sat with solemn dignity, displaying his encyclopedic knowledge of the law.

The prosecution thundered through its arguments with dramatic gestures, impassioned rhetoric, and enough emotion to power a theater.

The defense responded with increasingly creative arguments designed to attract attention.

One argument in particular sparked considerable discussion.

"Does turning a human being into a zombie constitute murder?"

The defense attorney spread his hands.

"Can magic, supernatural abilities, or sorcery legally qualify as a deadly weapon? Is a zombie necessarily dead? Perhaps we should recognize it as an alternative form of life."

He paused.

"At worst, my client committed aggravated assault. Murder requires the victim to have actually died."

It was a fascinating argument.

It was also doomed.

Everyone involved already knew Lorelei would be convicted.

The defense arguments were rejected.

The jury deliberated.

Then the judge delivered the verdict.

"Lorelei is found guilty of twenty-three counts of first-degree murder."

The sentence followed.

"Two hundred and thirty-five years in federal prison."

The trial attracted enormous public attention.

The unusual defense arguments attracted nearly as much.

Before long, legal scholars began citing the case in their own work.

Eventually, the resulting precedent became known as the Lorelei First Amendment—though the public quickly gave it two more colorful names:

the Enchantress Amendment.

Or the Alien Amendment.

Its central provision was simple.

Supernatural abilities, magic, sorcery, and other extraordinary powers could legally qualify as weapons.

Using such an ability against another person without consent could constitute aggravated assault.

If the victim died, the offender could be charged with manslaughter or murder depending on the circumstances.

The amendment filled a glaring hole in American law.

For the first time, the legal system had a framework for prosecuting superhuman and magical offenders.

Its influence would eventually extend far beyond the United States.

It became one of the most significant developments in the history of modern law.

Evenson nearly threw his television through the wall when he heard about it.

"Are you kidding me?"

He stared at the screen in disbelief.

"How did this somehow become my problem?"

The entire thing felt suspiciously personal.