Ryan picked up one book at a time and handed them to Hezekiah. The lawyer knew exactly where each book belonged. He was standing atop a stepladder, filling the top shelf.
"So tell me one thing," said Ryan as he passed up another book.
"Certainly. Anything you want to know."
"Exactly what kind of a lawyer are you?"
Hezekiah gave a little wink. "I'm the kind of lawyer you want on your side if you ever get into trouble."
"You're that good, huh?"
"Let's just say I have a lot of experience."
"Have you ever lost a case?"
"A few. The law is like anything else in life, Ryan. The right side doesn't always win."
Ryan thought of all the times he'd visited his father in jail, all the times his father had told him that he was innocent. "I suppose that's true."
"It's absolutely true," said Hezekiah. "Judges and jurors are human beings. Sometimes they make good decisions. Sometimes they make bad decisions." He paused, and his gaze slowly swept across his vast library. "And all those decisions- good or bad, right or wrong-are right here."
"Have you read all of them?"
"No. But I've visited many of them."
"Visited?"
"Yes. Like I just told you. As part of my research."
Ryan chuckled. Hezekiah restocked another book and asked, "What's so funny?"
"I just had this crazy image pop into my head. You, with a long flapping cape around your neck standing on top of a spinning globe. Then a deep voice in the background says, 'Look, up in the library! It's Super-Lawyer! Able to soar through time. Able to journey through the dusty old pages of law books and make the cases come to life. Yes, it's Super-Lawyer!"
Hezekiah laughed with him. Then his smile faded, and his expression turned stone-cold serious. "That's exactly what I do, Ryan."
Ryan laughed again, but this time Hezekiah didn't join him. The old man climbed down the ladder and went to work on the lower shelves. Ryan handed him a few more books from the pile on the floor. Hezekiah placed them carefully back on the shelf. They worked in silence for a minute or two. Ryan wondered if he had hurt the old man's feelings.
Finally, Hezekiah looked at him and said, "I was serious when I invited you. Come with me, Ryan. Come on a research trip."
Ryan was skeptical, but he played along, just out of curiosity. "Okay, let's say I agree to go with you. How do we travel?"
"There are two possible answers to that. First, let me give you the one you're not going to believe."
"Okay. This should be fun."
"I travel through legal leapholes."
Ryan started to laugh, then stopped himself, careful not to insult his lawyer all over again. "Through what?
"Leapholes."
"Leapholes? How do you find these leapholes?"
"You earn them. By closing loopholes."
"What's a loophole?"
Hezekiah considered the question, as if trying to think of a way to make the concept understandable to Ryan. His eyes seemed to brighten, then he said, "A loophole is when you find a clever but sneaky way to get around a rule."
"I don't think I follow you," said Ryan.
Hezekiah began to pace as he spoke, like a professor lecturing to his class. "Okay. Let's say you live in Florida. Your mom tells you to be home by five o'clock. You show up at eight o'clock. What do you say?"
"Uh… Sorry, Mom?"
"Maybe. Or you might say, 'But Mom, you said be home by five o'clock, and it is five o'clock-in Los Angeles."
Ryan thought for a moment. "Oh, right. They're three hours behind us on the west coast. So when it's eight o'clock in Florida, it's only five o'clock in L. A."
"That's right."
"That's a loophole?" asked Ryan.
"Right. Because next time your mother would have to say, 'Ryan be home by five o'clock Florida time."
"Or, she could say, 'We don't live in Los Angeles, bucko, you're grounded.'"
"She could. But stay with me on this, I'm trying to make a point here. There are all kinds of loopholes. And there are plenty of lawyers willing to argue about things a lot sillier than whether your mother meant five o'clock Eastern Time or five o'clock Pacific Time when she said be home by five o'clock."
"There are?"
"Yup. And it's all just a waste of everybody's time and money. That's why I close loopholes. And every time I close a loophole, the Society gives me another leaphole."
"What Society?"
"You'll learn more about that later," said Hezekiah. "First, let's just stick with leapholes."
"Okay. So exactly what is a leaphole?"
He smiled and said, "You're not going to believe it. So let me give you the other answer-the one you will believe."
"Okay, shoot."
Hezekiah took a seat on the stepladder. Ryan seated himself on a stack of books, facing Hezekiah. The old man leaned closer and said, "When I was a boy your age, I went into the library and I saw one thing. Books. Nothing but books. But if you go into the library these days, you also see… what?"
"Computers?" said Ryan.
"Exactly. All libraries are computerized nowadays, including law libraries. So I took it to the next level. I call them Virtual Legal Environments."
"Which means what?"
"I can bring the cases to life. Virtually speaking."
"How does it work?"
"It's a step beyond virtual reality. More like the legal extension of what NASA calls virtual environments. V-Es for short."
"How do you get into these V-Es?"
"They're presented through head-mounted computer-driven displays. Which is nothing more than a medium for man-machine interaction. This one is a bit more advanced, because it operates on a multi-modal interactive level."
"Multi-what?"
"Multi-modal. I know, it sounds like technical mumbo jumbo, but conceptually it's quite simple. The key is a computer that is powerful enough to capture the largest possible part of the human motor outflow. By 'motor outflow' I mean not just your arms and legs moving, but your eyesight, hearing, smell, taste, touch-all sensory perception. Then we need a staging area where human movements are constrained as little as possible. Here, the human receives from the computer a perceptual inflow, which will work only if the different available channels are firing to the max. Finally, the inflow and outflow are optimally tuned in relation to a specific task."
"You're right. It does sound like mumbo jumbo."
"But it works."
Ryan glanced at the water dripping from Hezekiah's clothing. "Obviously. But one thing has me really confused."
"What?"
"If it's a virtual environment, that means it's not real, right?"
"That's right. Feels real, but it's not."
"Then why are you all wet?"
He smiled and said, "That's the part that very few people understand. It's the part you're not ready to hear. Maybe one day you will be ready. But not now."
"What are you saying? It's magic?"
"Do you believe in magic?" asked Hezekiah.
"Oh, yeah, sure. As a matter of fact, I just sawed some guy in half yesterday. Waved my magic wand and put him right back together. Didn't even need crazy glue. Good as new. Magic."
"I see you're a skeptic."
"Let's just say I'm skeptical. There's a difference, you know. Skeptics are skeptical about everything. I'm just skeptical about things that don't exist. Like magic."
"It's all right. I was once skeptical myself. Then I learned."
"What do you know about magic? You're a lawyer."
"No better person to know about magic than a lawyer. Magic is rooted in laws."
"Yeah, right."
"It's true," said Hezekiah. "Magic is nothing more than the knowledge of some very special laws of nature. I'm talking about laws that scientists could never understand."
"Why couldn't they?"
"Because scientists are trained to think too rigidly. They want to be able to test th
e laws of magic the way they test the law of gravity. Well, I'm sorry, folks: If you want to understand magic, you can't just sit under a tree waiting for an apple to fall on your head. You have to think like a lawyer. We understand better than anyone that laws are fluid."
"Laws of magic, huh? That must be the most popular course in college. Right up there with Fairy Godmothers 101."
Again, Hezekiah smiled. "You're definitely not ready for the whole leaphole enchilada."
"You're definitely right."
"But you're in luck, my boy. Leapholes work whether you believe in magic or not."
"Thanks to the computer," said Ryan, still skeptical.
"If that makes you feel more comfortable, then sure. It's the computer. Or is it magic? Only the members of the Society know for sure. The good news for you is that it doesn't matter.
You get to go along for the ride and decide for yourself. Ready?"
"Sure," said Ryan.
"Good. Let's give it a go."
"You mean we do it right here?"
"Yes, of course."
"But you said we need a staging area where human movements are constrained as little as possible."
"You're thinking too narrowly when I speak of human movements. Human movement includes the imagination. That makes the library a perfect staging area. Nowhere is the imagination less constrained than in a library."
Ryan studied the man's expression. Hezekiah was genuinely excited. On one level, Ryan thought this had to be a joke. But if it was a joke, Hezekiah was one heck of a good actor.
"All right," said Ryan. I'll play along. I'll go on your little computer trip."
"That's my boy," said Hezekiah. He hopped to his feet and took Ryan by the hand. "Come now. Quickly. Get ready for the journey of a lifetime!"
Chapter 13
Ryan followed Hezekiah up and down the stairs in the library. Every now and then, the old man would stop, pull a book down from the shelf, and tuck it under his arm. When he had collected all the books he could carry, he looked at Ryan and said, "This way."
"Where are we going?"
He smiled and patted his stack of books. "Wherever we want."
Hezekiah led him to a conference room, and he laid the books on the table, one next to the other. It was an assortment of law books, some so old that the bindings cracked when Hezekiah opened them. Others were not quite so old. When he had each book opened to the selected page, he stepped back to make sure that everything was in order. He seemed satisfied. Then he went to a large closet in the back of the conference room and brought out a helmet. It looked a lot like the protective headgear that Ryan wore in his BMX races. It had a big plastic shell that covered the entire head. A dark reflective visor covered the face.
"You'll need to wear this," said Hezekiah. "It creates your virtual legal environment."
Ryan had seen gizmos like this in game rooms, so it made sense. "You want me to put this on now?"
"No, not yet." Hezekiah went to the other side of the room. There was a large glass jar on the very top shelf. He reached up and brought it down with great care. Gently, he placed the jar on the table amidst the open books.
"What's that?" asked Ryan.
Without saying a word, Hezekiah opened the jar and laid the lid aside. He reached inside and removed something that looked like a metal bracelet. It was just the right size to fit around a person's wrist, except that it wouldn't have been very comfortable to wear. It had a certain thickness to it, but it was perfectly flat, as if a steamroller had gone over it. If anyone tried to wear it, the edges would dig into the wrist bones.
Hezekiah held it before Ryan's eyes and said, "This is a leaphole."
"Looks more like jewelry for my baby sister's Woodkin dolls," said Ryan.
Hezekiah took, aim at one of the open books on the table. He held the leaphole in his right hand, directly above the book. Then he let go. It dropped onto the open page below, landing with a thud.
Ryan's gaze was fixed on the leaphole, partly because he was curious, but mostly because Hezekiah was staring at it so intently that Ryan had to watch. He was expecting something exciting to happen. Instead, the leaphole just lay there, flat, like a bookmark. Finally, Ryan said, "I don't see anything happening."
"Put on your helmet," said Hezekiah.
Ryan slipped the helmet on over his head. The instant he flipped down the visor, he did a complete double take. "Wow, cool!"
"Told you," said Hezekiah.
Ryan was watching the very same leaphole, but the helmet allowed him to see something entirely different. An orange halo had formed above the leaphole. It began to swirl, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Within seconds, the printed words on the open page began to rise into the air. They were caught up in the orange swirl like a miniature hurricane. Ryan's eyes widened with amazement. As the words continued to swirl, he began to feel a pull on his body. It was as if someone was trying to draw him into the book with a giant vacuum cleaner.
"This is amazing!" shouted Ryan.
"It's just the beginning," said Hezekiah.
The swirling intensified, and the pull on Ryan's body became stronger. It took every ounce of his strength to keep his feet planted firmly on the floor. It was an unnerving sensation, the feeling of being on the verge of losing control over his own body. He was tempted to pull the helmet off, but it was as if Hezekiah could read his mind.
"Stay with it, Ryan!" he heard the old man shout.
Ryan resisted his impulse to bail out. He kept the helmet in place. The spinning orange swirl rose higher above the book. As it rose, it expanded. At first, it was no bigger than the book, itself. Then it was as large as the table. Then, in another flash of orange, the swirling took over the entire room. At that moment, Ryan felt his feet go out from under him.
"What's happening?" he shouted.
There was no reply, but somehow Ryan knew the answer. In the blink of an eye, it seemed that time was speeding past him. Ryan knew that he was moving, but it wasn't the feeling of moving from Point A to Point B in a car or a bus or even by airplane. He was moving along another plane, another dimension. He was surrounded by something. He was in some kind of tube. Not a tube of metal or glass. It was just an opening through which he could pass safely. Everything else that was out there, everything that was caught up in the orange swirl of confusion, would allow him to pass. It was exactly the way Hezekiah had promised it would be. The laws of nature had suddenly been rewritten to allow Ryan Coolidge to travel wherever he needed or wanted to go. Time was no longer a boundary.
He was entering the leaphole.
It would have been difficult for Ryan to pinpoint the exact moment, but in one inexplicable flash, the orange swirl was gone. The next thing Ryan knew, he and Hezekiah were speeding down a racetrack on the backs of thoroughbred racehorses. Flecks of mud from the clay track were flying up around them. Ryan was hanging on tightly, fearful that he might fall off. It took Ryan a minute or so to get his bearings, but he was in the middle of a tight pack of horses peeling around the final turn and entering the homestretch. The crowd in the grandstands was going wild. Jockeys in brightly colored uniforms were high in the saddles, giving their horses the whip. All except for one jockey-the one right beside Ryan. He was low in the saddle, doing nothing to encourage his horse to run faster.
"That's Guy Contrada," shouted Hezekiah.
"Who?" Ryan shouted back.
"Contrada. He's riding the fastest horse in the race."
"What in the world are we doing here?" Ryan had to shout at the top of his lungs to be heard above the thunder of horse hooves, the noise of the crowd.
"It's in the book!" shouted Hezekiah.
"What book?"
"The law book. This is United States versus Winter, a big federal case back in the early 1970s. Guy Contrada was riding the favorite, a thoroughbred called 'Spread The Word.' The horse was raring to go. But the jockey held back and threw the race so that his gambling buddies could make some money. 'Spread the Wo
rd' lost by twenty lengths."
It suddenly made sense to Ryan. Then again, it made no sense at all. The books were filled with cases about real people. But how in the world was Hezekiah bringing those people and those cases to life?
Has to be the computer, thought Ryan.
The horses crossed the finish line, Win, Place, and Show, followed by the "also-rans." Ryan and Hezekiah were somewhere in the middle. Dead last, as Hezekiah had predicted, was Spread The Word, the fastest horse in the race.
The pack began to slow down on the other side of the wire. Ryan and Hezekiah continued forward, faster and faster, sucked down another leaphole. Ryan was suddenly no longer on a horse. He was back in the tube, the orange swirl all around him.
"Where to now?" he shouted.
No answer, but in seconds Ryan was back on his feet. The landing wasn't quite so gentle this time. Ryan still needed to get used to the idea of shooting through leapholes. He was sitting in a field of grass, and he rose slowly. Again, there were grandstands all around him, and they were filled with baseball fans. Ryan turned around and saw a huge green scoreboard behind the centerfield bleachers. The sign at the top read: WRIGLEY FIELD, HOME OF THE CHICAGO CUBS. They had landed in a professional baseball field. And it was Ryan's turn at bat.
Again, it wasn't something that Ryan fully understood. Somehow, however, he knew what he was supposed to do. He grabbed a bat and headed for the batter's box. The crowd cheered. Ryan stepped into the box. Then he noticed that playing catcher-the man behind the mask at home plate-was his friend, Hezekiah.
"Easy out," said Hezekiah, mocking him.
"What are we doing here?" said Ryan.
Hezekiah pounded his catcher's mitt, then squatted behind the plate. "Mr. Wrigley-the wealthy man who makes all that famous chewing gum-used to own the Cubs. He got sued because he wouldn't put lights in the stadium for night games. He believed that baseball should only be played in the daytime, not at night."
Leapholes Page 7
