by Vicky Savage
“Order!” Justice Goodspeed cracks her gavel. “Anyone unable to maintain appropriate courtroom decorum will be removed by the bailiff.”
Ted continues, “What occurred after Agent Ralston made this revelation?”
I describe for the Justices how Ralston informed me of the plot by the Noirs to kill me and the royal family members. I also go over what he said about IUGA’s involvement in the scheme.
“And did he say why IUGA wished to facilitate your assassination?”
Cathcart hoists himself up. “Madame Justice, again I must object. This calls for the disclosure of confidential proprietary information of IUGA, information that this woman had no right to know, and would not have known had it not been for her unlawful corruption of the automaton’s program. Disclosure of this information would be extremely detrimental to IUGA’s business interests.”
“Madame Justice,” Ted says. “This is the very basis of our case. IUGA cannot keep this information from being disclosed simply by declaring it confidential. I’m not asking for business secrets. IUGA holds itself out as a public service agency. The manner in which it conducts itself with the public should be transparent. The case law supports this view.”
“Give us a moment,” Justice Goodspeed says. She turns off the microphones and the Justices turn away from the bench and move their chairs together for a quiet conference. After a minute or two, they turn back to the bench and Justice Goodspeed reactivates the microphones.
“Mr. Cathcart,” she says. “My fellow justices and I agree that the information you wish to keep out of the record cannot be deemed confidential and proprietary in this instance. Mr. King is not seeking confidential information on how the business is run, he is laying out the claimant’s theory for why IUGA took the actions that it did. A long line of cases exist which hold that the information gleaned from IUGA’s prediction models is discoverable in court if it pertains to allegations of IUGA misconduct. Objection overruled. The witness may answer.”
A deflated looking Cathcart reseats himself. Ted repeats the question more forcefully. “Miss Beckett, did Agent Ralston say why IUGA wanted you dead?”
“Yes. He said that IUGA’s prediction models showed a ninety-six percent probability that if I chose any option other than to remain in Domerica, I would be responsible for setting off a chain of events that would lead to the eventual demise of IUGA.”
Quiet murmurs ripple throughout the spectator section.
“Thank you,” he says.
“I believe this is a good time for a ten minute break,” Justice Goodspeed says with a crack of her gavel. Everyone in the courtroom scrambles to their feet as the justices remove their microphones and exit through the golden curtains.
“You’re doing great,” Ted whispers helping me from the box.
FORTY-EIGHT
After the break, Ted asks me to detail for the justices the elements of the plan Ralston and I put together to thwart the Noirs’ attack. I go over each component of our strategy, making sure not to leave out any important facts. Two justices take furious notes during my testimony, while the others sit in rapt attention.
Once I’ve finished, Ted checks his notebook. Thank you Miss Beckett. Now, I understand that because the attack was intended to take place on your scheduled wedding day, you and Chief Blackthorn were married in a secret ceremony prior to that day. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“But you also continued with the original wedding plans as if the ceremony would take place as scheduled?”
“Yes, Ralston told me that it was crucial for IUGA to believe everything was going according to plan so that they wouldn’t act before we had all our ducks in a row.”
“I see. Then will you describe for the Justices what took place when your scheduled wedding day arrived?”
I take a sip of water and a deep breath. Facing the justices head-on, I begin my recounting of the events of that fateful day. When I get to the details surrounding Patrick’s death, I have difficulty keeping my voice even. And, as I describe the horrible sights I witnessed during the battle, silent tears begin to roll down my cheeks. My voice begins to quaver when I relate the events that took place in the tower room after the Noirs broke inside.
“Urick, uh, Lieutenant Hunter, was there,” I say. “He pointed a gun at me, as we planned, and he signaled me with his eyes that it was time to go out onto the walkway and shift to Arumel.”
“Did you do that?” Ted asks.
“I … I put one foot out onto the walkway, but then I saw my husband and some of his warriors burst into the room. I turned to come back inside, but the walkway fell apart under my feet.”
“I know this is painful Miss Beckett, but please tell the court what happened next.”
Words mix with tears in my throat and my voice comes out strangled. “I shifted to Arumel like we planned, but not before I saw my husband reach out to save me and fall from the tower behind me.”
Ted pauses for a moment. “What did you do when you arrived in Arumel?”
“I shifted right back to Domerica, but it was too late. My composure cracks completely at the memory. “He was dead.” I sob into my hands, aware that the world is watching as I fall apart.
“Does the witness wish a moment?” Justice Goodspeed asks gently.
Ted passes me a tissue box and raises his eyebrows.
“No, I’m okay,” I say, plucking a few tissues. The courtroom is hushed except for the sounds of quiet snuffling from the spectators.
“Did you go back to Arumel at that point?” Ted asks.
“Yes, Narowyn Du Lac came and took me back.” I dab at my eyes with the tissue.
“And did Agent Ralston join you there as planned?”
“No. IUGA had gotten to him first. We found what was left of him several days later lying on a garbage heap outside an IUGA parts facility on another earth.”
Cathcart clutches the arms of his chair and makes to rise, but Goodspeed stops him with her raised hand. “Keep your seat, Mr. Cathcart. You’ll have your opportunity.”
“What happened to the now former agent Ralston once you rescued him?”
“He was too damaged to be repaired, so the Transcenders purchased a new automaton shell for him. The information from his mass storage, his memory module, his eyes, and his voice box were transplanted into the newer model.”
“Please tell the Justices, to your knowledge, other than the transplanting of the items you just mentioned, did you or anyone else under the Transcenders’ direction ever tamper with or alter the software or hardware of Mr. Ralston in any way?”
“No, never.”
“Only a few more questions, Miss Beckett. Did you ever sign the contract provided to Mr. Ralston by IUGA?”
“Yes. I signed it three days before the attack.”
“And in that signed contract, which option did you elect?”
“I elected to join the Transcenders in Arumel.”
Several Justices make a note of this.
“And have you been back to Domerica since your return to Arumel?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because that would’ve been a breach of the contract with IUGA.”
“Thank you very much, Miss Beckett. No further questions,” Ted says.
“Cross examination, Mr. Cathcart?” Justice Goodspeed says.
Cathcart clears his throat and holds himself erect. He carries a thick book with him to the podium. “A few questions if it please the court. Now, Miss Beckett, you freely admit that you returned to Domerica of your own volition, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Good. And after your return, you eventually ascended to the throne and became Queen of Domerica. Is that true?” He clasps his hands behind his back and leans toward me.
“Yes.”
“And you began to plan your wedding to Chief Blackthorn?”
“Actually it was being planned prior to Queen Eleanor’s death,” I s
ay.
“I see. Thank you for correcting me. So is it fair to say you were very happy being back in Domerica and soon to be wed?”
“Yes, until I found out I was going to be killed on my wedding day.”
“Precisely.” He pokes the air with his index finger. “And you gained this knowledge by rewriting certain areas in the software programs of Agent Ralston so that he would report such things to you. Correct?”
“No, that is not correct.”
Cathcart holds up the book he brought to the podium. “Madame Justice, this is IUGA’s Exhibit 1. I would note for the court that I have marked the pages relevant to my next question.”
“Very well,” Goodspeed says. The Justices each locate their copy of Exhibit 1. Cathcart carries the book to the witness stand and places it in front of me. “Have you ever seen this manual before, Miss Beckett?”
I examine the cover. “No.”
“Please read the title for the court,” Cathcart says.
“Inter-Universal Guidance Agency Automaton Specification Manual,” I read it aloud.
“Now please turn to page ten of that manual and read for the court the highlighted paragraph.”
I turn to page ten and locate a paragraph highlighted in yellow. “It says, All automatons employed by IUGA are specially programmed to protect confidential information of the agency. A custom designed, multi-level system of safeguards is utilized to prevent IUGA automatons from disclosing: (1) the identity of any subject or subjects under observation by the agency; (2) any and all prediction methods utilized by the agency; and (3) any probability distributions or other information gleaned from the agency’s destiny prediction models, to any parties other than their IUGA supervisors.”
“Thank you,” Cathcart says. “Tell me then, Miss Beckett, how do you explain the fact that an automaton, which is precision programmed to follow only the orders of its owners, and never to disclose confidential prediction model information to anyone outside the agency, confided such information to you?”
“He told me he altered his program himself to allow him to make such decisions on his own.”
Cathcart’s mouth twitches unpleasantly. “Really? This automaton altered his own program? And exactly, how did he go about doing that?”
“I really don’t know. You’ll have to ask him. But he said it’s a widely held secret in the IUGA automaton community that they can rewrite their programs to allow them to exercise free will. It’s really not surprising considering they’re smarter than the average supercomputer.” I pat the thick book in front of me. “It probably says that in here.”
Cathcart bristles at my answer. “Madame Justice, I move that the witness’s answer be stricken from the record as unresponsive.”
A small laugh issues from Goodspeed’s pink bow-shaped mouth. “Mr. Cathcart, you asked the question. There is no jury present. We all heard this witness’s answer. If you wish to call the automaton to refute this, we will consider such a request.”
“Thank you Madame Justice,” he says, although his brow remains creased.
“Now, Miss Beckett, once you learned of your predicted destiny, you and the automaton Ralston took drastic steps in order to make certain that your fate did not unfold the way it was described to you. Correct?”
“Well yeah. I wasn’t going to just let a bunch of lowlife mercenaries storm in on my wedding day and kill me and my family without doing something about it.”
Titters go up from the spectator area.
“Madame Justice.” Cathcart blusters. “Please instruct Miss Beckett to confine her answers to the question asked.”
“Miss Beckett,” Goodspeed says, “I know it is tempting to elaborate, but please listen to the question asked and answer only that question.”
“Yes, Madame Justice,” I say.
Cathcart grips both sides of the podium. “Miss Beckett. What gives you and the Transcenders the right to complain to this court about IUGA’s actions, which were only intended to facilitate the unfolding of destiny as it was predicted, when you have taken even more radical action to prevent destiny from taking its appropriate course?”
I look at Justice Goodspeed. “Madame Justice that’s a complex question, am I allowed to answer it fully?”
“Of course, Miss Beckett. It does seem to go to the heart of your case.”
“Mr. Cathcart,” I say, “I took what you describe as ‘radical action’ because I don’t believe IUGA has the authority to choose my true destiny. Those QPs, or whatever you call them, are nothing more than sophisticated fortune telling machines. I believe my true destiny was to form a friendship with Agent Ralston so that he would make a choice to do what was right rather than what he was ordered to do.”
“Thank you, Miss Beckett,” Cathcart says cutting me off.
“Wait, I’m not finished. You asked what gives us the right to complain about IUGA’s actions.” I look to Goodspeed and she nods for me to continue.
“IUGA’s job is supposed to be ‘guidance.’ In this case, IUGA used its vast resources to try to force a particular destiny on me and the country of Domerica for its own purposes. Assisting in murder should never be within a public service entity’s jurisdiction, in my opinion. That’s just playing God, Mr. Cathcart.”
Applause breaks out from the spectators’ section and the gallery.
Justice Goodspeed takes her time in banging her gavel. “Quiet people,” she says. “Well then, Mr. Cathcart, any further questions for this witness?”
He clears his throat. “Only a few regarding the contract, Madame Justice.”
“Proceed,” she says. “We’ll break for lunch afterward.”
Cathcart steps to the counsel table and removes a document from a file. “This is IUGA’s Exhibit 2,” he says to the court. “May I approach the witness?”
“You may.” Goodspeed says.
“Now Miss Beckett, do you recognize this document?”
“It looks like the contract IUGA prepared for me.”
He flips to the last page. “And do you recognize the signature on the final page?”
I squint at the page. “No.”
“No? Please look at it again. Is that not your signature electing to stay on in Domerica?”
“No it is not,” I say, holding the document in my hand.
“Well, whose signature is it?”
“I really don’t know, Mr. Cathcart.”
“Is this not the document you gave to Agent Ralston to file with IUGA’s legal department?”
“I’ve never seen that signature before in my life.” I make certain to phase my answer so that it’s one hundred percent true.
“Mr. Cathcart, we had a question about that also,” Justice Goodspeed says. “The document you filed as Exhibit 2 does not match the document provided to us by the Arumel City Office of Records.”
“That’s impossible,” Cathcart splutters.
“I have it right here,” Goodspeed says. “Mr. Clerk, please give this to Mr. Cathcart.”
The gray-haired clerk hands the document to Cathcart, who takes it and turns to the last page as he walks to counsel table. He lays the document on the table for the others to see. The attorneys and Director Canto have a hushed conversation before Cathcart returns to the podium.
“Madame Justice, I’m not certain why we have a discrepancy here. We will research it further and provide our answer in a supplemental brief.”
“That will be fine,” Goodspeed says. “Are we ready for lunch?”
“Yes, I have no more questions for this witness.”
* * *
We walk to a fancy looking restaurant across from the courthouse for lunch. Ted has reserved a private room for us so we can discuss the case without being overheard. The hostess shows us to our table and passes out menus as we take our seats. I find an empty chair between Ralston and Urick. The conversation remains light until our entrees have been served and the door is closed.
“Teddy, how do you think it’s going?” Narowy
n asks.
“It’s going well, but we’ll see what the afternoon brings,” he says. “We’ve scored a few points, and Cathcart has made a couple of missteps. That contract thing was just sloppiness. His team should have caught that before they came to court. It’s like any good laserball game, though, they’ll likely regroup this evening and come out strong for the second half.
“What happens when we go back in this afternoon?” I ask, pushing food around my plate with my fork. “Am I finished testifying?”