A brief snicker in the courtroom caused Noble Voice to jerk his head around and glare at the cluster of reporters, who all suddenly had the sweetest, most innocent smiles on their faces. With a low growl, Noble Voice stomped over to his table and took a sheet of paper which his assistant had handed him. He began reading it as he moved back towards the center of the floor, finally looking up at Vigilance. “It says here that the short-range field analyzer—or as you called it, the machine—was completely destroyed. The side table had a leg torn off of it, and the female creature used that leg as a club. She threw her breakfast at Dr. Goodall. Her mattress was flung from her bed . . . does any of this sound familiar?”