She continues, drawing in as much breath as her lungs will hold. “Citing the eight hundred and ninety-seventh subset of the Gen Imperative Decree, no Gen’s franchise may be revoked by the state amid unsubstantiated charges of crimes against Crache, or unsubstantiated charges of treason made against one or more of its members. Further citing the two thousand, four hundred and seventy-second subset of the Crachian Articles of Citizenry, no member of a Gen operating under sanctioned franchise of Crache may be convicted of a charge of treason in absentia.”

Lexi watches their faces at the end of her address, and she is certain she couldn’t have produced more stunned expressions if she had ascended those fabled steps separating petitioners from the Councilmembers, squatted, and proceeded to urinate at their feet.

“Stated simply, Councilmen, and Councilwoman, you cannot convict my husband of treason without him present to first face those charges, and you cannot revoke my Gen’s franchise without first convicting my husband of treason.”

There is silence in the Council chambers for what threatens to drag on into agony.

Stru, the oldest of them by a quarter century, is the first to stir.

“I… I can find no fault in your argument, or your citations—” Senior Councilman Stru begins, only to have Councilwoman Burr trample his next words as if a herd of water buffalo collapsed a fence in her mouth.

“There remains the singular core issue at hand in this case,” she insists. “That issue is the most important criteria for revoking a Gen’s franchise: obsolescence. You are the last kith-kin member of your Gen, Lexi. Gen Stalbraid’s function is to provide the Crachian political arena with its statesmen and leaders. You are not a politician. You’ll bear no children to become politicians. Does Gen Stalbraid plan to absorb a new kith-kin?”

Lexi is unshaken. “We have no immediate plans to do so, no, Councilwoman.”

“Then the issue of obsolescence remains, and must be answered.”

Lexi ascends a single step, breaching Council session protocol just enough to throw even Burr off-guard.

“A crime has been committed against my Gen,” Lexi says, a dark fire staining the edge of her voice. “My husband has been abducted, possibly… murdered. I cannot know. Neither can you. And until definitive evidence is offered in open council, Brio is still kith-kin elder of an active Gen franchise, and both he and it will be afforded all protections, courtesies, and resources promised in your own franchise codes.”

Councilwoman Burr’s gaze may be composed of daggers, but none of them are lethal, nor can she seem to locate the words to weaponize her stare.

Senior Councilman Stru takes advantage of her abnormal silence. “Respectfully, can any member of this Council cite a legal precedent or subset in which a set amount of time to declare a Gen elder dead in absentia is outlined?”

Neither Jochi nor Burr offers any citation.