by Rick Raphael
Justice Bell addressed the jury. "Is this the verdict of each and all of you individually and collectively?" he asked. "I now poll you individually. Juror Number One, is this your verdict?"
From the speaker above the first video lens came the words, "It is." The justice continued through the twelve. When all had agreed, the judge paused.
"I thank the jury for its verdict and now dismiss it." The covers slid down over the video lens and the monitors on the bench went blank.
"The defendant will approach the bench."
Kevin moved out from behind the defense table, two of his attorneys following him. He halted before the bench.
"Kevin Shellwood," Justice Bell said, "you have been found guilty of all charges against you. Do you have anything to say before the court passes judgment?"
Shellwood shook his head.
"Very well," Bell said. "I hearby sentence you to serve a term in the Thruway Correctional Institution at St. Louis, Missouri not to exceed five years on each count, the sentences to run concurrently. I further fine you the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars. However, upon the recommendation of the prosecuting attorney and the recommendation of the arresting officer for your part in a disastrous situation on the Thruway after your arrest, I am suspending two years of your correctional term. And I further direct that the final year of your term, after time for good behavior has been deducted, be spent either on trustee status or under guard depending upon your honor, as an attendant crew member of a Thruway ambulance team. Perhaps then you can witness the kind of tragedy that you came so close to creating.
"I further warn you that under the laws of the Thruway Authority, you are automatically barred for life from the operation of any kind of surface ground vehicle and that failure to comply with this law will bring not only reinstatement of your full sentence but an additional sentence of ten years in correction.
"I should like to add this comment. I personally feel that you are the product of your environment and your family. It is unfortunate that you failed to learn at a much earlier age that laws are made for all people and that there is no such thing as a privileged class. I sincerely hope that in your future dealings with your fellow men following your release, that you will recognize this fact."
Justice Bell raised his eyes and looked over the younger Sheliwood's head to the spectator section where Kevin's father sat.
"It may come as a shock to some people to realize that in this complex society in which we live and this ever-growing technology that both serves and threatens mankind, there are still people to whom the service of humanity is more important than rising above that humanity.
"This trial is ended."
Justice Bell rose from his bench and walked from the courtroom. Two Thruway officers moved up and led Kevin Shellwood away.
The spectators filed out of the courtroom and the crew of Car 56 followed. As they moved past the row of seats where the elder Shellwood still sat, Ben glanced over at the older man. Quentin Shellwood caught the look and turned his face defiantly to the officer. Pure hatred glowed in the older man's eyes. Ben paused and looked steadily at Kevin's father for a moment and then sighed and hurried after his crew.
He caught up with them in the corridor. "Come on," he said, taking Clay and Kelly by the arm. "We've still got time for a leisurely lunch before we head back for the barracks. We'll probably be rolling by nightfall. And I gather from what the old man says, we draw the Miami run this trip."
Clay looked up and stopped. "No kidding, Ben. You really think we'll draw Miami?"
Ben nodded.
Gay fished in his tunic pocket and pulled out the little address book.
"What a break," he murmured, thumbing through the pages, "I didn't think I'd get to see her again this year.
Now what was her last name. . . ." ■
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