Neela shot him a sad look and called up some facts on her DijAssist.

"Your own USA had an organization called NAMBLA that ran an orphanage in a country called Thailand. This organization was tolerated by your culture and protected by the powerful and clearly misguided ACLU lobby. Child pornography on your Internet was pervasive to the point where people would have it on their computers and not even know it. So don't tell me it wasn't tolerated."

"Not only am I telling you it wasn't, I'm also telling you that I spent years and millions trying to put an end to that filth." He looked away in disgust.

"And you failed. Your culture may have cared, just not enough. Oh, sure, they passed laws. Lot and lots of laws. But when the law becomes that vast and impersonal, you almost can't help breaking it. And then pretty soon all law becomes degraded."

"And you feel," he said, more as a fact than a question, "that this system is better."

"Yes. Our laws are based on the precept that one human being cannot impose his or her will on another human being without consent. If a prosecutor can prove that this precept was violated, then the court can and will impose a severe penalty."

"Well, then, what if," he asked, baiting her further, "the authorities find someone with a stash of child pornography? Wouldn't that, under the definition you just gave, be considered legal?"

"Actual child pornography or generated?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, momentarily thrown.

"I mean, if the photos were verified as actual, he'd be arrested. We may be hands-off vis-a-vis our laws, but as I just said, one human cannot impose his will on another without consent-a child obviously cannot give consent."

"OK, then. Well, what if the authorities found someone with a stash of generated generated child pornography-that, you're telling me, would be considered legal." child pornography-that, you're telling me, would be considered legal."

"Yes, perfectly," she answered, not taking the bait. "However, the authorities, in addition to ordering an immediate psyche audit, would also let that individual's associates and family know that there was a monster in their midst, and, let me tell you, I wouldn't want his stock in my portfolio."

Justin was taken aback. "They'd just let everyone know? Isn't that an invasion of privacy? Or worse, an infraction of your precept?"

"Yes, yes, and no," she answered calmly, trying to synthesize hundreds of years of evolutionary law into a few sentences. "Yes, they'd of course let everyone know. And yes, to a certain extent it is an invasion of privacy, but no, it's not an infraction of the precept because no one's imposing anyone's will on someone else."

She saw Justin about to object and put up her hand to silence him ... if only to let her finish her thought.

"However," she continued, "I'll grant you that society, in an act of self-preservation, is bringing great pressure to bear. But think about it, Justin. To have had a psychological audit you also had to have gone through an appeal process that had seven seven separate levels. So anytime you do have an audit, you might as well let your investors know what it was for. And as soon as separate levels. So anytime you do have an audit, you might as well let your investors know what it was for. And as soon as they they know, well," she said, almost apologetically, "everyone knows." know, well," she said, almost apologetically, "everyone knows."

Justin took a moment to gather his thoughts. "So, Neela, what you're saying is that this ... this pervert is in fact property, and that investors have a right to know what's wrong with ... well, with their property. Am I getting that correct?"

Neela furrowed her eyebrows. "You make it sound so bad."

"And you think it's not?"

"No, Justin. No, I don't. If you knew what we've been through and how far we've come, I do believe you'd appreciate our insistence on protecting the smooth running of our society."

"So then tell me, Neela," Justin said, still shocked at where the conversation had drifted. "What happens to our social misfit?"

"This person would not be able to hold a job," Neela stated, "a marriage, or his friends. He'd be completely and thoroughly ostracized. And believe me when I tell you, fear of that happening is far more effective than any laws you could conceive of. We learned the hard way that you can get around a law far easier than a societal imperative. Of course, once the perpetrator was corrected by the psyche audit, he'd be able to rebuild his or her life elsewhere."

The topic, decided Justin, was far too incendiary for banter. But inside he was in turmoil. Neela was ever so casually talking about a mental lobotomy mental lobotomy as if it was the best thing for everyone. Though even he had to tip his hat to the solution's efficiency, and more important, its success in safeguarding society. In his day the molester probably would've gone undetected until lives were ruined, lost, or both. And even then the shit probably would've gotten released early, only to destroy again. Justin decided he'd have to research the matter thoroughly, then come back and continue the debate better prepared. as if it was the best thing for everyone. Though even he had to tip his hat to the solution's efficiency, and more important, its success in safeguarding society. In his day the molester probably would've gone undetected until lives were ruined, lost, or both. And even then the shit probably would've gotten released early, only to destroy again. Justin decided he'd have to research the matter thoroughly, then come back and continue the debate better prepared.

"OK," he said, "the whole idea of man as property is making my head spin."

"Understandable," said Neela, smiling sympathetically. "What would you like to talk about?"

"Mardi Gras."

"Right," she agreed, "Mardi Gras. Justin, when the trial is over I want to take you someplace. Normally we go there as children, at about age seven or eight. It's one of the few laws we actually have."

"What is it? A monument?"

"Not a monument," she answered, with palpable solemnity, "a memorial."

The ability to enforce law is the first goal of government. The ability to apply law consistently and sparingly is the ultimate goal of government.-EVAN RICKS, SECOND INAUGURAL ADDRESS

Justin had been waiting for this day ... the day when the lawyers across the table realized that he and Manny had no intention of making any sort of deal with GCI. The weeks of negotiations and memos back and forth had been a ruse. When Manny had first suggested the tactic, Justin had been apprehensive. But it was paying off now. GCI's considerable legal talent had been building arguments based on obscure case law for justifying the percentage they should receive. They hadn't considered that Justin would never consider settling. It was a blind spot in their thinking. No-more than just a blind spot No-more than just a blind spot, thought Justin, a blind acre a blind acre. In his "new" world, Justin realized, society in general and GCI in particular could not possibly grasp that someone would not want to incorporate would not want to incorporate. The idea of personal incorporation had been such a mainstay and for so long-well over two centuries-that Justin's defense would be equally as incomprehensible to society.

Manny began his opening statement.

"Your Honor, it has been the contention that this trial is about share of stock. The corporation involved feels that since the land Mr. Cord was found on was GCI land, they have a claim to his stock. The corporation involved feels that since the clinic Mr. Cord was revived in was a GCI clinic, they have a claim to his stock. The corporation feels that since a GCI staff member cared for Mr. Cord, they have a claim to his stock. Well, here's an interesting little fact," said Manny, emphasizing each word, "Mr. ... Cord ... has ... no ... stock. Let me repeat that and let that simple fact sink in. Mr. Cord has no stock. Not only does Mr. Cord have no stock, but GCI has no legal standing whatsoever to require him to incorporate for the sole purpose of giving stock to GCI. I will call witnesses and bring financial evidence that GCI not only has suffered no financial burden from Mr. Cord being awakened but, on the contrary on the contrary, has made quite a handsome profit. Incorporation's purpose is to serve a social good, not enable already wealthy corporations to gain access to more wealth they do not deserve. They deserve nothing nothing from my client, and nothing is what they should receive." from my client, and nothing is what they should receive."

Manny had started off in a low, calm voice, but throughout his opening statement had varied his tone and volume until he had reached an impassioned crescendo. It was only when the courtroom realized that he was done speaking that an almost spontaneous burst of applause broke out. It took the judge over a minute to restore order.

"Mr. Black," the judge cautioned, "your oratorical talents will not impress me. I am not a jury and care only for your legal, not verbal, skills. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course, Your Honor."

"Ms. Delgado, we will hear opening statements for GCI."

The head of Legal was frantically consulting with her fellow lawyers, and seemed not to have heard the judge.

"Ms. Delgado," barked the judge, "if you please!"

GCI's Legal head slowly rose from her table. "Your Honor, if it please the court, we request a," she leaned over and confirmed a number from her subordinate, "six-hour recess."

"Whatever for, Ms. Delgado?"

"Your Honor, we were led to believe that the nature of this trial would be ... less dogmatic, and wish to check some facts, given the opening statement by Mr. Cord's attorney."

"You've had two weeks since declaratory statements were given. Ms. Delgado, if you feel you were misled by the defense, then that is your problem and not the court's. We will proceed with trial or you will default. Do I make myself clear?"

Council was trapped, and she knew it. "Perfectly," she answered.

Manny raised his voice. "Your Honor, we are ready to call our first witness."

Judge Farber looked over at the GCI table.

"I will proceed with my opening statement," Ms. Delgado said tersely. She then gave a long, obviously improvised, and disjointed speech-even going so far as to argue against a point that the defense had never actually made. Eventually she found her way back on track. It was clear that Manny's strategy had paid off. What wasn't clear, and what Manny and Justin were hoping for, was whether or not their strategy could keep GCI off balance for the trial's remainder.

From Justin's perspective the next few days seemed a blur of questions, mostly coming from Manny Black: Mr. Sambianco, how many credits did GCI receive for Mr. Cord's revival?

"Ten million."

Dr. Gillette, what would you say was the most expensive revival you've ever participated in?

"Four hundred and eighty thousand credits."

Dr. Wang, were there any sorts of complications in Mr. Cord's revival?

"None."

Mr. Kline, as an expert in land ownership, would you say that Mr. Cord's claim to ownership of the No Timbers mine would entitle him to challenge the claim of GCI?

"Indeed, yes. GCI may be able to make a monetary claim for any fees or liabilities paid on the property itself, but, in my expert opinion, the land still belongs to Justin Cord."

The trial's third day was ending when Hektor approached GCI's first chair and their Legal division head, Janet Delgado. She was seated in the courthouse cafeteria, reviewing some documents. He slid a small dataplaque in front of her. She looked up to see who had interrupted her rare moment of silence. When she saw who it was, she slid the plaque back to Hektor without bothering to read it.

"I'm busy, Sambianco."

"I strongly suggest you read it," said Hektor.

"Well, I strongly suggest you piss off."

"Janet," he responded with vicious charm, "you're nose-diving the trial; what have you got to lose?"

"Screw you, Sambianco," she said, with a voice so even-keeled it made Hektor blink, "and we're not on a first-name basis."

"Janet," he answered, choosing to ignore her directive, "you've lost. You know it, and I know it. It's the biggest trial GCI has been in since we leveraged AmEx out of those lunar options."

"Bullshit. That was worth billions."

"It's not the money, Janet. It was never about the money. This trial's important because of the ramifications it could have."

Janet stopped reading and looked up, piqued. "What are you talking about now, Sambianco?"

"I don't have time to go into details, but the bottom line is that Cord hates us, and the longer this trial takes the more dangerous he becomes."

"What are you trying to pull, Sambianco?" she challenged. "You yourself said at the board meeting that you thought the trial should take a long time. Why the change of heart?"

"Not trial, Janet. Pretrial motions."

"Whatever," she spat back.

"Janet, no one at that board meeting wanted to hear what I had to say. They just wanted to formalize my getting canned. I do, however, remember saying we should keep him 'engaged.' Had I had my druthers it would have been in pretrial motions and not in an actual trial-that, you chose to plow ahead with."

"Why?" she asked, not wanting to acknowledge it but having to admit she was intrigued.

"Why what?"

"Why wouldn't you have gone to trial?"

"Because, my dear girl, I knew, as you're in the process of finding out, that any attempt to negotiate with Justin, especially about incorporation, would fail. He can't incorporate, not like this. I knew if you went to trial you'd lose. However, in pretrial motions we could have kept him harried and harassed for years. And then, in our our time and time and our our choosing, after his weaknesses were exposed, we could have forced a favorable settlement on him ... that's why." choosing, after his weaknesses were exposed, we could have forced a favorable settlement on him ... that's why."

Hektor leaned back, clearly proud to have finally been able to tell someone of his never-to-be plan. He could also see by her eyes that Janet got it, too. Or, to be more precise, got him him.

"OK, Sambianco, I'll give you that it makes for interesting court babble. But that still doesn't take away from the fact that Justin Cord doesn't hate us us, he hates you you."

"He doesn't know the difference," Hektor sighed. "Either way you'll have to agree the trial's starting to stink. And my guess is you're beginning to feel the pressure ... externally as well as internally."

Her silence was all the answer Hektor needed to continue.

"Alright, Janet, think about it. Who was against going to trial?" The question's rhetorical nature again left Janet silent.

"And," continued Hektor, "who not only put his whole career on the line by saying this idea stunk, but is now also in the process of being proven right?"

Hektor waited. He needed for Janet to arrive at the answer on her own-to realize that he was not a dead subject at GCI but was likely to be the only man to come out of the trial still standing ... even if on thin legs.

"Assuming we both agree that this trial is lost, there is something we can salvage for the future."

"What?"

"We need Justin to hate us more than he does already, and the easiest way for that to happen is for us to use the data contained on this plaque."

He gently slid the plaque back across the table so that it was directly in front of her. Janet picked it up and quickly scanned its contents.

"It's interesting, Hektor, but it won't help us win."

Hektor smirked. "It doesn't have to. Just let me have Justin on the stand for ten minutes-twenty, tops-and I promise I will use whatever renewed influence I have to cushion your fall."

"My fall?" she repeated, astonished.

"Yes, Janet. Your fall. If you need a minute to let it all sink in I'll be glad to give it, but you're a smart girl, aren't you? And you didn't get this far by not rolling the political die, and rolling them quite well, I might add."

Janet acknowledged the compliment with a dour expression.

"So, my dear girl," continued Hektor, "do we or do we not have a deal?"

Janet thought about it for a moment, sighed, and slowly nodded her agreement.

"Oh, one more thing," added Hektor.

"Yes?" asked Janet, knowing full well that what he was about to reveal was in no way, shape, or form an afterthought.