The Unincorporated Man (34 page)

Legal smiled back politely. “The Chairman takes a personal interest in this matter.”

“I see,” answered the judge, looking over at Justin’s table. “And what about the defendant?”

“Your Honor,” answered Manny, getting to his feet, “we move for immediate dismissal of this fraudulent claim.” Justin watched in fascination as he saw a man transformed. Gone were the hesitation, the stutters, and the distracted air. The man now speaking was completely in his element and radiating disgust for the lawyers across the aisle.

“It should be obvious,” continued Manny, “even to those that run GCI, that Justin Cord is a fully adult male who needs no”—Manny put complete scorn into his next word—“
parenting
. Especially from the likes of GCI. They’re not only thieves and should be regarded as such, I daresay, should this court decide to award in loco parentis to GCI, I’d have to move for another immediate dismissal on the grounds of child abuse!”

Judge Farber smiled, acknowledging Manny’s histrionics as well as the muted chuckle emanating from the back of the courtroom.

Manny proceeded to hand over a dataplaque containing his motion to the court clerk, who, after collecting GCI’s dataplaque, took them both up to Judge Farber.

The judge took the plaques from the clerk and stood up. “This court is in recess while I review all the pertinent documents. Court to reconvene tomorrow at ten A.M.” He slammed down his gavel and quickly exited the room.

Mardi Gras alert, people. Only forty-three days left until the party begins. The big question on everyone’s mind is, what will Justin do? I suppose it’ll depend on the progress of that boring trial. According to the latest polls 47 percent of you think he’ll go for a bodmod with a full transformation, 40 percent think he’ll go with a traditional costume, 10 percent think he’ll stay home, and 3 percent of you just don’t seem to care. Which begs the question to those 3 percent—what planets are you living on? Here at the Neurotainment Network we’ll bring you all the latest in where to party, what to wear, and more important, what Justin Cord will be doing!

—NEUROTAINMENT NEWS SITE

_______

Justin was sitting in a café across from the courthouse, drinking a cup of coffee that was supposedly 100 percent orbital-grown Arabica beans. He wasn’t sure why orbital grown made a difference, but he had to admit it was one of the mildest cups of joe he’d ever had. To take his mind off the trial, he was reading up on Mardi Gras. But he still had a lot of questions, so when Neela showed up he patiently waited for her to order her usual: a double espresso.

“I don’t get this Mardi Gras thing,” he said, hands cupped firmly around the mug.

Neela held up her hand with her eyes squeezed shut. Justin knew what that meant and waited until the espresso arrived. It wasn’t until she took her first sip and gave a relieved sigh that Justin knew she’d be able to give him her attention.

“It’s Mardi Gras,” he continued, “but it sure is a lot different from what I remember.”

“Just curious,” answered Neela. “All that info’s already on the Neuro. What can I offer you that it can’t?”

“Let’s face it, Neela,” he admitted, “the Neuro’s good for straight facts, and maybe if my avatar were a little more mature it could answer me, but for now I’m just looking to get into the zeitgeist of the matter.”

“I see,” she said, polishing off the espresso. “Incidentally, you should learn to rely on humans, not avatars. Obviously your case is exceptional, but I feel it’s my duty to remind you subtly and not so subtly that the sooner you can break your dependence on sebastian, the better.”

Justin nodded.

“To get to your question,” continued Neela. “But for scale and technology, it’s really not that different. Kind of like a week where the whole system can relax. Didn’t you ever have something like that?”

“I suppose,” he answered, “the week between Christmas and New Year’s, or Mardi Gras.”

Neela ordered some more coffee and nodded in agreement. “But the big difference is that your Mardi Gras was confined to one city, and from what I recall experienced by few.”

“Right.”

“Ours encompasses everyone and is therefore
all
of society’s way of escaping itself. It’s how we deal with all the pressure and constraint we have.”

Justin scratched his chin. “That’s the part I don’t get. The Terran Confederation is, at least on paper, and it would seem in practice, the least obtrusive government in history. They’re hardly allowed to do anything, much less impose on or pressure anyone. And anything they can do, the market can try to do better. In fact, I just read about a private consortium trying to gain the rights to terraform Venus instead of the government.”

“Oh yeah,” Neela said, acknowledging the narticle, “I heard about that. I hope they fail. If the government doesn’t get the terraforming contract it could place a serious crunch on the budget.”

“What crunch?” asked Justin, slightly bewildered. “Wouldn’t that mean they’d have a huge surplus?”

“Yes, it would,” answered Neela, “and that’s the problem. Do you know how hard it is to find projects that the government can invest in? Remember, by law they’re not allowed to keep the money. It creates too much tumult in the credit markets if the government is lending out trillions of credits, and it doesn’t solve the problem.”

“What problem?”

“If the government starts giving away or lending the money and services,” she answered, “they risk market contamination, because eventually they’ll have to be paid back, which will earn them even more money. And that’ll give them an automatic guaranteed dominant position as a borrower or a lender. If they give away services, then they could limit or drive out competitors.”

She saw that he still wasn’t getting it.

“Justin, the government gets an automatic 5 percent of everyone’s shares, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Well, there’s a good forty billion of us. You do the math.”

“Got it. It’s a big chunk of change.”

“More than that,” countered Neela, “it’s a huge advantage to build on. Not fair. Leads to questions like ‘Will the government be borrowing or lending, and at what rate?’ That’s why they need to do things to spend the money, and that’s why I hope they win the Venus project.”

Justin thought it over for a moment. “Your civilization has some very strange problems.”

Neela nodded. “Venus is the perfect venue for government spending. It will take decades and trillions of credits to terraform the planet, and then the government can sell the land off at a loss.”

“And this is a good thing?”

“Of course, Justin. Think about it. The government is charged with the overall protection of the state. What could be better than getting rid of the excess money while creating a viable new planet to live on? Of course, once we get the process down for Venus, we may be able to start on the more environmentally hostile moons of Jupiter and Saturn.”

“So everything seems to be well in hand.” Justin waited for Neela to nod, and continued, “Which brings me back to my original question. Where is all this supposed pressure that society has to blow off?”

“Justin, the problem is that while we don’t have many legal constraints, we do have a lot of societal constraints. Just because we don’t impose our restraints with law, like
that
ever worked, doesn’t mean we don’t have them, obey them, and every once in a while need to chuck them by the wayside.”

“And that’s Mardi Gras?”

“That’s Mardi Gras. It’s one big party that lasts a whole week. You can go out and get drunk, stoned, screwed, and tattooed—a great song by the way.”

“And body-altered?” he asked, pointing to an advertisement from the day’s paper.

“Oh, yes, I’ve always thought about doing that but never had the money… until now, that is… until you.”

A quiet acknowledgment passed between them.

“So,” he continued, “you have, according to what I’ve read, people who use nanotech to transform their bodies, go out and spend the week partying, and then change back?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, if it’s so easy to change, why bother changing back? Why not just keep experimenting with newer and newer shapes and effects?”

Neela, Justin realized, was giving him “the look” again. If he could sum it up in words he’d have to say that it roughly translated into “you really have no idea what this world is all about, do you?” Like so much else he’d learned to ignore, he let it pass and continued with his questions.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with those Virtual Reality Dictates, does it?”

“That’s very perceptive, Justin,” answered Neela. “In a roundabout way, it does. You see, our culture is very conservative. Oh, don’t get me wrong, our technology and economy are constantly in flux, but what we as a, well, for lack of a better word, tribe will tolerate is much less than in your day.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Justin, the more freedom you allow a society the more intolerant you may have to become.”

“You’re telling me this society is bigoted and prejudiced?”

“About some things, yes—wasn’t yours?”

“Yes, but only the big things, like rape, murder, or child molestation.”

“Justin, your society tolerated all those things. You let murderers go free on technicalities. Most rape victims never reported it for fear of a court system so incompetent it would often put
them
on trial and let the rapist go free.”

“I’ll give you that we could’ve improved on that,” he replied, “but we for sure did not tolerate child molestation.”

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-à-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
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
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
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
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.