He therefore got up and went to retrieve an old communicator he did not use anymore, hoping it could escape Militia's control: they were surely monitoring him and would intercept the communications forwarded through his main communicator or computer. Fortunately, he managed to turn it on, now he just had to remember its functioning. It was almost a relic. He composed a text message and sent it to Charlie: “Cockroaches are in the house, disinfestation planned for tomorrow morning”. He didn't expect that his friend would answer him so promptly: “I'm coming to you.” “Negative, danger of external contamination, no one is allowed to get close”, William replied. Charlie: “OK, suggestions?” William: “We need traps and bug poison.” Charlie: “Any particular brand?” William: “One not so popular, to use in case of emergency”. Charlie: “OK, I'll update you”.
William relied on Charlie's intuition, they had known each other for a lifetime and did not need too many explanations. All he had to do was cross his fingers and wait. He would then have to devise a way to meet Charlie and receive that information without arousing suspicion.
Once taken a little weight off his shoulders, William swallowed a Sefinol tablet and made himself a hawthorn, chamomile and valerian herbal tea. He then threw himself on the bed, without undressing and without even checking the time. He would try to rest a little: November 24th would be a very long day.
The doorbell rang relentlessly at 6.00 am. William Deveux took a while to wake up, he had spent the last few hours fighting off winged demons with his flaming sword. Several seconds passed before he realized that the sound came from the front door. Outside it was still dark. He went to open the door and the demons materialized: Todd Roberti and a tall, sturdy colleague, came to pick him up. The Militia officer prevented any complaints about it being too early in the morning by stating that there were too many things to do and they could not waste precious time. He asked William if he had already had breakfast, so he commanded him to have it rapidly, then to wash himself thoroughly and lastly to put on the wetsuit; he and his colleague would wait outside. William Deveux probably looked a bit lost and foggy, because Roberti repeated out loud: «BREAKFAST, Deveux! Eat NOW!» William obeyed and hurried to the kitchen. He had no appetite, yet he tried to eat a slice of bread with jam and warmed some coffee left over from the day before. His mouth was dry because of nervousness, so the coffee could help him swallow. The obligation of having to feed himself before facing the trial was clearly a hypocrisy aimed at avoiding unseemly episodes in the courtroom; in any case he had to eat if he wanted to stay healthy and strong to face the upcoming events. Wash yourself thoroughly. William wondered why he made such a foolish recommendation. Did Militia officers dislike the stench? Or was there something else? He performed, however, the assigned task: he left dirty dishes and cutlery on the table and got into the shower. He was trembling like a leaf, so he increased the water temperature and, finally, he found some relief. Because of habit, he made the mistake of dressing with his usual clothes and showing up like that at the door. Roberti spread his arms and shouted: «Deveux, the wetsuit!» Right after he reminded him to leave the communicator, and any other object, at home. William ran to collect the strange garment and unwrapped the cellophane from it. It took several seconds to figure out how to wear it. It was too tight. Very predictable. It was probably one or two sizes smaller. The purpose was surely to annoy him and it certainly fulfilled that task well. He came back all embarrassed at the front door. Not bringing any object or coat with him made him feel even more naked. «Don't worry, Deveux», Roberti reassured him, «you will soon get used to it.» The two officers closed the door and put a red seal on it. «It will keep the bad guys away», Roberti's colleague said, chuckling. Then they took the elevator and, once on the ground floor, they walked through the square to reach a vehicle located on the opposite side. There was no need to stop the car so far from the building, William thought to himself. Maybe they wanted to put on a show, turn that parade into an unpleasant display by exposing the accused to public shame. All this was confirmed when the vehicle stopped almost a mile away from Militia headquarters: they would complete the last stretch on foot, mingling with people to test their moods, provoking a sense of disgust on the one hand or inducing compassion on the other; trying to stimulate, in both cases, a sense of guilt in the defendant.
The transfer took place very fast: the militiamen did their utmost to arrive at the headquarters on time, also because the accused had the obligation to consult with his delegate before the opening of the trial. Once left the car, Todd Roberti proposed to William Deveux to apply a wrist locking system before completing the walk. William took from his hands what were once labeled as handcuffs and stared at them puzzled. Why did Roberti ask him to put them on and he did not order him to do it, nor did he apply them himself? William had the instinct to hand them back to him, but Roberti - noticing his hesitation - anticipated him, snatching them from his hands and shouting: «Forget about it, give them back to me!» He then shook his head, adding: «You're going to make me look foolish to Prefect Scabroni!»
There were few people near the Scarlet Militia Downtown Headquarters. The citizens preferred to keep at a safe distance and reluctantly walked close to it. Roberti monitored the area, then ordered his colleague to wait outside with the defendant. William looked around too, hoping not to meet anyone he knew. Todd Roberti's colleague, still smiling and grinding his teeth, faked to calm him down, pointing out that he had not to worry because they would enter in a few minutes. Roberti eventually went out and motioned them to go through the secondary entrance. «Prefect Scabroni is in the great hall, better to avoid making gaffes and, especially, having to give explanations», he said, pointing out again William's refusal to apply the handcuffs. They then quickly entered from the side door and, without any delay, the two militiamen took William Deveux to the interrogation room, where he would meet his court-appointed lawyer.
«Sit down, Deveux», Todd Roberti commanded. «Do you want to drink?» William nodded. «Excuse me? What did you say? I see your head going up and down, but I don't hear any sound. I repeat the question: do you want to drink?»
«Yes, thank you!», said William, with a thunderous voice.
«Don't raise your voice!», Roberti warned him. «Our Most Excellent Institute does not allow anyone to use an aggressive tone of voice», he stated, spelling out the word anyone. «Am I clear about this?»
«Yes», William promptly replied.
«Yes, Mr. Officer», Roberti corrected him.
«Yes sir, Mr. Officer, sir!»
Todd Roberti paused briefly, then took his leave and added: «This is not your home, Deveux. We set the rules here, don't forget it.»
The two militiamen left the room and were replaced by another subject, medium build and height, with a thick and grizzled hair, dressed in a sort of tunic.
«I am Delegate DiFraia, I've been assigned to you», he introduced himself, without pleasantries and with a certain distance. William stayed silent. «Do you accept my appointment? I remind you that you may have the right to choose a private lawyer, subject to payment of a deposit of one hundred thousand credits.»
William bitterly smiled. «I can't afford such a sum, so yes, I accept your appointment.»
«Very good choice», replied DiFraia, with irony. «Now, if I may, I'd like to get right to the point. Deveux, I am here today with a very specific task: to take your confession.»
Delegate DiFraia checked his portable computer. «You have never been convicted before, do you confirm?»
«No, never.»
«Very well. We have a very good chance of getting a lenient sentence. The trial is chaired by Judge Michael Roberti.»
William tried to open his mouth but was preceded.
«His Excellency Roberti is the father of Officer Todd Roberti and he is a person with an incredible sense of justice, of great rectitude and very understanding. We are in good hands, believe me.»
«But I have committed no crime and I have nothing t
o confess!», William said, answering the delegate's previous request to plead guilty.
«I'm sorry?»
«I'm innocent.»
«Oh come on, Deveux. No one is really innocent. Except for the members of this Excellent Institute, of course. Collaborating in order for justice to triumph is the duty of every respectable citizen of this country. Admitting one's own faults is not only a moral obligation, but a concrete one: it frees the one who confesses from the weight of the ignominy and facilitate Our Honorable Service. And, I repeat, it makes our glorious city great.»
«Delegate...»
«Delegate Alfred DiFraia.»
«Yes, sure. Delegate DiFraia, excuse me, but... shouldn't you try to exonerate me?», William asked, a little upset.
«Exonerate? Don't ever use that word in my presence, Deveux. This is about doing justice, this is about doing the right thing. This is about», he declaimed, in an increasingly loud tone of voice, «respecting the work of Our Most Excellent Institute and of all the citizens of East Eden!»
«But I will not confess a crime I did not commit!», William stopped him, matching his tone of voice. Delegate DiFraia calmed down and put himself in a resting position on the back of the chair.
«Patrick Rea warned me that you're a tough guy. He was right.» William didn't answer. «Okay, as you wish. You're wasting the opportunity to benefit from the benevolence of the Court. I would talk to the judge and he would probably give you a mild sentence, not more than five years. His Excellency Roberti wouldn't object in this regard, I am sure. Hell no, let's go to the trial! Good luck Deveux, you'll need it.»
Alfred DiFraia then leaped from the chair and headed for the exit. William Deveux, in a quieter voice, reminded the delegate he had asked for water. DiFraia burst into laughter. «Do you take it with a lemon or orange peel? Or maybe you prefer a glass of beer?» He closed the door behind him. William could hear him laughing in the distance for several seconds yet.
William remained in the silence of the interrogation room for an infinite time. He had no objects with him and had no idea what time it was. The minutes became interminable. He got up, walked around the room, then sat down again; he felt exhausted at some point and laid his head on the table, trying to fall asleep. He wanted to scream. They had pulled him out of bed at dawn and for what? To make him wait hours and hours in an empty room. And without being able to drink. And with that stupid orange costume that was itching everywhere. Maybe it was a kind of experiment: they wanted to see how long he could resist before getting hysterical. They were surely filming him, though he had not discovered any surveillance system while walking around the room. Eventually, the door opened again and Delegate DiFraia reappeared.
«Come on, Deveux. It's noon, it's time for the first hearing.»
Noon. He had been stuck in that room for almost two hours.
«Here, take it, Deveux», said DiFraia, handing him a bottle of water. «Follow me.»
They left the interrogation room behind and turned right, heading towards the section of the headquarters where the courtroom was located. Along that dark path, many militiamen cast an eye of contempt on him. William Deveux could feel all those looks upon him.
«Are you angry, Deveux?», Delegate DiFraia asked him, without stopping. «Don't answer, I clearly see that you're angry and tired. It's me who decided to let you wait all that time in the room. I did it for you. Now you're much less afraid and much more annoyed. You're ready for the trial.»
William Deveux stared at him in amazement.
«Don't think that here we have fun throwing people in jail», DiFraia explained. «Here justice is done. Who makes fun of defendants and convicted persons - and I confess that some of my colleagues do it – doesn't get my approval.»
Those words cheered him up a bit, so William found the strength to try to quietly ask his defender for help.
«Mr. DiFraia, I haven't committed any crime, I swear. I don't know why Minneman is so mad at me.»
Alfred DiFraia sighed with compassion.
«My dear Deveux, I have just turned fifty and have been appointed delegate for over ten years. To be honest, I've met not more than one or two innocent defendants through the years. One of them was an eleven-year-old boy accused of conspiracy, can you believe it?», he said, laughing. «It's not that I don't want to believe you...» He left the sentence unfinished. «However, from my experience, I admit that, if you're pretending, you're doing it very well.» He winked with a smile, then put his forefinger to his mouth to call for silence. «Now we enter the courtroom, all I want from you is to stay silent until you're explicitly asked to speak. Not a word, okay?»
William nodded and sighed.
It was the one and only courtroom in East Eden. It was large, impressive, and square in shape. Scarlet red was everywhere. There were four large banners, one on each side. The seats were two hundred but most of the time they remained empty: there were few trials that required the presence of militiamen; the most important ones, the ones that needed an exemplary sentence. The seats were distributed in a horseshoe shape, so a part of the audience could look both the accused and the prosecutor in the eye. On the most solemn occasions, the Commander-in-Chief and his assistants used to seat to the right of the Judge, but it was many years now that the High Officer DeMartini had disappointed his audience by failing to attend the trials.
That November 24, all in all, was just an ordinary day. The courtroom was almost deserted. Prosecutor Visser - with Garreth Thomander on his side, representing Minneman Company - was already in position. DiFraia greeted his colleague with a nod, then they all sat down. After a few minutes of waiting, the usher came in, he positioned himself in the center of the room and, with a booming voice, announced the entrance of His Excellency, Judge Michael Roberti. The small audience of a dozen people immediately jumped to their feet. Judge Roberti invited the prosecutor and delegate to the bench for greetings and initial formalities. Speaking in a strong and decisive tone, so that everyone could hear distinctly, he hoped that the trial would be concluded in a short time, so that the Most Excellent Institute would not be distracted too much from its noble mission. When everyone was seated, the judge officially opened the trial.
«On the day of grace November 24th, the year number thirty-one of Our Most Excellent Institute, we have come here to bring justice to the city of East Eden and heal the rift within our noble community. This Excellent Institute, through the intercession of the Commander-in-Chief, High Officer DeMartini Raphael, decided, with wisdom and benevolence, to accept the complaints presented by the accusing party, such Minneman Company, represented by Minneman Ralph and Attorney Thomander Garreth, here present, towards the losing party, such Deveux William here present. The losing party has decided, up to this moment, to plead not guilty; however, because of the sublime spirit of justice that animates Our Most Excellent Institute, for the wisdom and benevolence of this Court, we may grant the possibility of correcting previous statements, whether they were incorrect or inaccurate, whether they were dictated by haste, negligence or bad faith. For this reason, this Court, in its supreme wisdom and benevolence, asks the defendant if he intends to repent and declare his guilt.»
As soon as Judge Roberti finished speaking, Delegate DiFraia rose to his feet and declared that the accused insisted on pleading not guilty. He then sat back down and, without looking at him, shook William Deveux's wrist. William understood, therefore, that that accusation of obstinacy, and the act of apologizing to the judge, were part of the rules of the game and Delegate DiFraia could not escape it. Perhaps, he had a friend in that nest of vipers, yet it was still too early to tell for sure.
«So be it!», Judge Roberti granted, «we will proceed on the basis of the presumption of innocence. Prosecutor Visser is asked to explain the charges to us.»
«Yes, Your Honour.»
The prosecutor stood up and positioned himself centrally in front of the judge, carrying a mini computer with him.
«Judge Roberti, before star
ting a clarification is needed. Compared to the interrogation carried out on September 21st by Colleague Officer Patrick Rea, two additional charges were suggested by Mr. Thomander. With the permission of Your Honour, I will proceed to list them.»
William Deveux, astonished, turned to his lawyer for explanations. «That's how it works», DiFraia said in a low voice. «Stay silent, please.»
«Granted», agreed Judge Roberti. «Please update us about it, Prosecutor Visser.»
«Thank you, Your Honour. So, allegations of conspiracy and misappropriation of sensitive data have been suggested.» Prosecutor Visser turned to William Deveux, pointing with his hand. «Well, after careful analysis, Our Most Excellent Institute feels like it can rule out the first allegation, the conspiracy, because there is no direct evidence of damage to Our Most Excellent Institute. Furthermore, the accusing party, Minneman Company, does not operate in the security sector, nor has it received any assignments or indications in this regard from Our Most Excellent Institute.»
Judge Roberti nodded. «I approve the assessment and accept the proposal, the allegation of conspiracy is dismissed. Go on.»
«Thanks again, Your Honour. Then, as regards the allegation of unauthorized appropriation of sensitive data, Our Most Excellent Institute, in its highest wisdom, decided to accept the request of the accusing party and add this allegation to the list of charges. It is absolutely plausible», Visser explained, «that, in such situations, the criminal might decide to gather information on health of unsuspecting citizens in order to mock them, discredit them or - why not? - even blackmail them. »
The Ruling Impulses Page 22
