When Hale's defense was subjected to semantic analysis, it was discovered that his statements, taken at face value without the emotional content, were a confession and admission of guilt!
The press had a field day. The three judges of the majority were forced to resign by public opinion, and the other two left the bench soon after. The entire judicial system of Vega VII was revamped in a frenzied flurry of legislative activity.
But it was too late to do anything about Leland Hale—he was three sectors away by that time, and the law couldn't touch him anyway.
Hale was glib, clever, and persuasive. Within fifteen minutes, he was heading towards the home of Yon the Fisher with his pack on his back and a goodly crowd following well behind.
Hale rapped on the door and announced himself. A feminine voice from within said: "Go away! The Plague is here!"
"Never mind! I've had it! I'm immune! Let me in!" He tried the door and found it unlocked. He stepped in—and stopped.
Before him, staring wide-eyed, was the most beautiful honey-blonde he had ever seen.
If all their women look like this, Hale thought, it's no wonder they keep them at home!
"Where is Yon the Fisher?" he asked aloud.
"In—in the bedroom," she said softly, pointing.