The Unincorporated Man

by Dani Kollin; Eytan Kollin

  Chief Justice Lee cleared his throat. “The prosecution will present its closing after lunch. Court is in recess until two o’clock.”

  Can Justin Cord actually win this thing?

  —NEURO COURT NEWS

  Peaceful demonstrations are developing all over the system both for and against the Unincorporated Man. Unlike the earlier riots, the “pro” demonstrators gather and chant “one free man” together, and listen to speaker after speaker talk about the evils of incorporation. Another popular activity is called public divestiture. An example of this would be a person getting up in front of a crowd and publicly divesting themselves of all stocks they own in another, either by selling the stocks outright or in acts that are called “pure divestiture”—giving the stocks back to the people they’re formed out of. Although not widespread in terms of the total population, “divestiture” has spread to tens of millions of people systemwide. The penny stocks are taking a hard hit, and economic growth and forecasting are being affected. Divestiture makes economic forecasting difficult, because for the first time in a long time millions of people are making economic decisions for reasons that are more political than economic.

  —MICHAEL VERITAS,

  THE TERRAN DAILY NEWS

  Janet Delgado got up, composed herself, and stood. “Mr. Black would have you believe that you must validate a law that is centuries out of use. He insists that you interpret the Constitution, no . . . two Constitutions, in an unprecedented way. He also insists that you must accept a form of payment that is not only repugnant but may be impossible to collect. And,” she asked, with a look of outright disgust, “you must do all of this so that one man will be able to choose? Well, does Mr. Cord have the right to yell fire in a crowded room? The law is clear. He may not. Not because he cannot yell fire at the top of his lungs if he so chooses. But because his freedom cannot impinge on the freedom of others to be safe in a crowded room. Well, justices of the Supreme Court, there are over forty billion of us. That’s a mighty crowded room. Mr. Cord’s actions constitute a danger to me, to you,” Janet indicated the spectators, “and to them. He is not allowed to choose a course of action that is harmful to others when he, I, and you know that such course of action is indeed harmful. We need only look at the Grand Collapse to realize how insidious a request Mr. Cord is demanding of us. For the past two centuries the government and society have existed through the seamless blending of incorporation. We have a method that is not harmful to anyone. Not even Justin Cord. The government would be remiss if we allowed Mr. Cord to choose a method of payment that was harmful to everyone, even Justin Cord.

  “The Supreme Court must act, not for the good of Justin Cord, as Manny Black would have you believe, but for the good of us all. Thank you.”

  Janet went back to her table and took her seat.

  “The court will recess to consider the arguments placed before it,” said Chief Justice Lee. “We will reconvene in one week’s time. Court dismissed.” He banged his gavel and the justices, as one, got up and left the room.

  The trial was recessed while the Terran Supreme Court went to deliberate somewhere in the Alps. This left Janet with a lot to consider. She called a meeting with the prosecutorial staff for later that evening. They were an unhappy lot, to say the least, as each of them was hoping to get in some family time and relax now that the trial was finally in hiatus. They were, after all, government employees, and had they wanted to work that hard they could have stayed in the private sector. But Janet was the lead prosecutor, and they had to follow where she led. It was while she was waiting in the hallway for her sullen staff to leave that she saw . . . him.

  He was a ridiculous little man. Didn’t he know that there were nanos that could make him look presentable? True, they didn’t have much to work with, but at least it would be an improvement. At least his clothes were clean and matched, which, her research showed, was never the case outside of court. Even that suit he’d procured was obviously just a standard five-piece outfit that could have easily been assembled at any vending machine for spare change. What made his whole ensemble even more infuriating was his hair. As Janet watched, almost in horror, the ridiculous little man was taking his hair out of its ponytail (an antiquated fashion) and shaking it vigorously until it was once more lying in an unruly and tangled mess atop his head and shoulders.

  And what made the whole scene even more repugnant was the fact that this tiny, odd-looking, insignificant specimen of a man might beat her in court . . . again. Without realizing it, she started heading in his direction. Such was the natural way Janet Delgado moved through the world, more an implacable force going unerringly toward a goal than a person walking somewhere. The crowd instinctively got out of her way. Janet never once thought about the fact that people parted for her. She would most likely have assumed it was her right. After all, she had important places to be. When she got to Manny Black she looked down at him—actually being a bit taller than he was. He didn’t seem to notice she was there.

  So engrossed was Manny in reviewing the information on his DijAssist that he was oblivious to the milling crowd, the reporters shouting questions from the ten-foot line, and the curious stares from people wanting a look at the man who was now one of the most famous in the system. A man whose very visage was becoming a cult icon, much like Albert Einstein’s had centuries earlier. More interesting, at least for the crowd of onlookers, was that Manny Black was ignoring Janet Delgado. For the V.P. of Legal this was a unique if exasperating experience. To be beaten was one thing, but to be ignored!

  “Where did you come from?” she snapped.

  Janet was so annoyed by his lack of acknowledgment that she ignored the reporters who were gleefully writing down and capturing what for them was clearly an unexpected encounter. They were cursing the no-drones rule enforced in the court building and had to make do with camereyes, which were notorious for poor quality and missed pictures. A camereye was in essence a nanite camera, located directly on the iris. It recorded what a person saw with one small drawback. People blinked. And blinking was a reflexive response that even the most ardent nanotechnologists had yet to be able to solve. Not that there was a great demand for it. In any event, Manny and Janet’s first one-on-one meeting was being witnessed by dozens of reporters, smiling, recording, and not blinking at all.

  “Where I come from?” Manny answered without looking up. “My mother, or so she tells me.” At Janet’s growl, Manny finally raised his head high enough out of his research to see who’d had the temerity to interrupt his train of thought. His look, upon realization of the answer, was one of genuine surprise. “Why, Miss Delgado, what a pleasure to meet you!”

  Janet was confused because, well, he did seem delighted to meet her. She’d made a career out of judging people and their reactions, and all her instincts told her that this man, who should have been apprehensive, annoyed, triumphant, aroused, or at least trying to conceal some combination of all the above, had nothing to hide. To mask her confusion she covered with an insult. “Miss? Miss? Did you just use ‘Miss’? What century were you born in? It’s Ms.,” she hissed, letting the zzzz trail for a good second.

  “Forgive me, of course it is,” he answered with earnest respect. “One of my little quirks, I’m afraid. You see, I am a sexist.”

  Janet was again taken aback. “You’re a what?!” Though she’d lost control of the conversation before it even began, and would normally have bailed, she had to find out what the little imp meant. “You feel women are inferior?” she sneered. “You really are a throwback.”

  “Oh no, not inferior,” Manny answered, oblivious to the insult. “If anything, I would have to say the evidence points to superiority in many areas. But I do feel the sexes are different, and the differences tend to be glazed over in our society. I just like to point out the differences in little ways. No reason why you should be burdened with my foibles. I will, of course, call you ‘Ms.’ ”

  Janet wasn’t sure what to make of his response, so
the question she’d had on her mind popped right out like a surfacing bubble.

  “How is it, Mr. Black, I’d never heard of you before all this?” she asked, referring to the trials.

  Manny seemed delighted to engage her. “I never went after cases that would generate a lot of press. I was more interested in cases that dealt with interesting aspects of the law. Such cases are rare, and when they did arise would often end up in the big firms. That left me with the mostly pro bono cases. The press doesn’t really care about the pennies . . . unless, of course, they become shooting stars.”

  “Well, then,” she asked, less petulance in her tone, “why didn’t you go work for one of the big firms?”

  “They wouldn’t hire me. The small ones would, but I would’ve gotten the same sort of cases anyway, only I would have had a boss. I was smart enough,” he said, with a slight twinkle in his eye, “to have rich parents, and so I figured, why work for someone else if I didn’t have to?”

  Manny’s stomach burbled.

  “Oh my. What time is it?” he asked.

  Janet didn’t bother to ask him why his avatar hadn’t told him, she just answered by moving her finger in a certain manner and having her avatar project the time on her eye as a blue overhead. “Six nineteen and twenty-seven seconds,” she answered.

  “Oh, I guess it’s a bit late for breakfast. Do you know a quick place to eat?”

  Janet knew that she would not spend the evening with her grumpy staff. She would spend it with the defense counsel—a much better use of her time.

  “Forget ‘quick.’ I know a good restaurant that will be private,” she said, giving a withering look to the unblinking reporters who were still watching and listening to their every word. Then, to Manny: “You’ll love it.”

  “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

  Janet took the strange little man by the elbow and led him out of the court building. “Not at all. My treat.”

  “If you pick the restaurant,” he said, “I insist on picking up the bill.”

  “Bill? What’s a . . . oh, you mean ‘the tab.’ ” They went out into the night.

  What Janet would later remember about that evening was how much fun she’d had. His mannerisms were strange. For instance, when Manny held the door open, seated her, and then carefully asked what she wanted so he could order for her, she wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or flattered. It was her inability to nail down Manny Black as a person or a lawyer that made him go from being an annoying little man to a curiously large riddle.

  He was definitely a brilliant lawyer. He could make connections that she’d never even dreamed possible. She was charmed and gratified to find that he knew all about her cases, and even got the impression that it wasn’t just research for the trial. It seemed to her that Manny Black had followed her cases out of professional respect, seemingly having a genuine interest in her work and career. Although he wouldn’t discuss the current case in any detail, and nor did she, the evening still turned out to be one of the most delightful she’d ever had. He was one of the few men who could keep up with her when she went on a legal tangent. Instead of getting a glazed look when a particularly abstract precedent was brought up, Manny got excited, and usually found one to complement it. She finished the dinner laughing at his cache of lawyer jokes and groaning at his lawyer puns. When the evening ended she wasn’t even annoyed when he walked her to her door and took her hand in his to say good night. He didn’t shake it—he gingerly lifted her hand, and, bowing slightly, said, “Good night.”

  Janet was confused by the gesture but strangely touched by a custom so archaic she’d never heard of it.

  When her phone rang the next morning she found herself hoping it was Manny. When it wasn’t she was annoyed with herself for being annoyed. The next call was from Manny, and she was delighted. He invited her to breakfast, and she immediately accepted. Before she could ask, “Where?” he said he’d be by in an hour. Without realizing it, Janet put a little extra care in getting ready for her “date.” And when Manny picked her up she was no longer surprised that he walked her over to her side of the flyer and waited until she was seated before he got in on the other side. It seemed natural. The days somehow turned into an entire week of Manny seeing Janet every day. Each day was filled with intelligent conversation, good food, and even a little haute couture as Janet introduced Manny to proper fashion. Manny took pleasure in teaching Janet that his version of sexism was the much older practice of chivalry. And Janet took pleasure in teaching Manny that paying attention to one’s surroundings was also a form of, if not chivalry, then courtship.

  It went on this way for some time until, at the end of the week, Manny met Janet at her room with a dour look on his face.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, troubled by his look.

  “I’m afraid I can’t see you again, Miss Delgado.” Janet no longer minded him using “Miss.” The way he said it made it much more intimate than if he’d called her by her first name.

  “Why not?” Janet asked, more alarmed now than she could ever have thought possible, especially given the way she’d felt one week earlier.

  “I’m growing quite fond of you, Miss Delgado.” Manny’s eyes seemed to droop a little as his mouth formed a slight grimace. “Should this trial continue, our relationship would have an adverse effect on my ability to be a good counsel to my client—if I’m still with you, that is. I apologize. It’s just that you’re the first lawyer, and certainly the first woman, I’ve ever met who could actually understand . . . me.”

  Janet thought he was giving her more credit than she deserved. Some of the legal concepts Manny had introduced her to made her feel like she was back in law school, chatting with a brilliant professor who knew all the answers without having to think about them. But she had never let on to Manny about those feelings.

  “You have no idea,” continued Manny, “how attractive that makes you. I find myself thinking of you and not my client, and that is not fair, to you or to him.”

  Part of Janet felt like shouting, “Screw ‘fair’ and Justin Cord!” but she also understood. Because she had been feeling the same way. If they continued, the closer they got, the more complicated it would get. Best to let the case settle, she admitted to herself, and then pursue the obvious attraction postverdict. Her mind replayed the first part of what Manny had said. “You think I can win?”

  “Of course you can win!” he exclaimed. “Either way it’s going to be a three-two decision.”

  Janet nodded, having concluded the exact same thing.

  The Supreme Court met in chambers for seven days. Justin spent every minute of every waking hour jetting from orbital platform to town to city preaching his mantra of passive resistance to the incorporation system. Tight security slowed him down, but with the media trailing his every move his message got out, and to great effect.

  Neela and Justin were in the most recent hotbed of Alaska—a territory rightly pissed at what the incorporationists had done to their elegant and simplified system—when news reached them that a verdict had come down. They made it to the court an hour and a half after getting the call.

  Manny looked calm. Janet had a look of smoldering anger that kept the government lawyers on her side of the court moving slowly toward the opposite end of her table. Justin would have taken hope from that, except that Janet Delgado pretty much had that look all the time now.

  Justin left Neela in the spectators’ section and sat next to Manny.

  “Hello, Manny,” he said. “How did you spend your days of waiting?”

  “Ahh, Mr. Cor . . ., I mean, Justin. I was having sex.”

  “Really?” Justin said, taken aback. “How . . . um, nice, I guess.”

  “Oh, it was, Justin. She was surprisingly . . . considerate.”

  Justin smiled at his lawyer’s choice of words. “Anyone I know?”

  Manny looked over his shoulder at Janet, raising his eyebrow a notch.

  “No shit!”


  “Is that a term of disapproval? I can assure you, Mr. Cord, that I in no way compromised your case by my dalliance with Ms. Delgado, and have broken it off.”

  “Manny, if you like her you didn’t have to break up on my account.”

  Manny looked dubious. “Yes, I did.”

  Justin changed the subject. “Does the fact that the court took the full seven days help or hurt us?”

  “Too many variables to be sure, but I would like to think that if they were going to hang you out to dry they would not have taken this long to do it. But that is wishful thinking. This trial is unique, so the time they took could simply be the time they took.”

  The justices filed in and took their seats. Justice Tadasuke started to speak.

  “The court has had a very difficult choice to make over the past seven days. The choice basically boils down to one question: Can the state force Justin Cord to behave in a manner that the state wishes, or is Justin Cord free to choose his own economic life? The court rules that Justin Cord is free to choose one of the two methods of payment mandated by law. To do otherwise . . .” He was not able to finish his sentence, as the crowd became unwieldy, with jeering and cheering both emanating from the chamber. Chief Justice Lee slammed his gavel down hard on the table.

  “I’m warning you. Any further outburst and I will clear this courtroom!” When the crowd noise subsided he motioned for Justice Tadasuke to continue.

  “As I was saying . . . to do otherwise is to ignore the very basis of our government: the individual choosing freely. The court finds that though the prosecution’s argument had merit, the effect Justin Cord has on individuals is their responsibility. To hold Justin Cord hostage to the illegal behavior of individuals he does not control or actions he does not condone is to punish him for a crime he did not commit. I will issue the written opinion for the majority, and Chief Justice Lee will issue the written opinion for the minority. Good day.”