The Unincorporated Man (59 page)

“Alright, Mr. Black, wow us with your opening.” Chief Justice Lee sounded less than enthused, and it was plainly clear that he didn’t think Manny could say anything that would impress him.

Manny, fully absorbed, hadn’t bothered to look up.

“Mr. Black,” intoned the chief justice,
“Mr. Black!”

Manny looked up with a start. He was like a man awakened from slumber by the ringing of a bell in his ear. “Can I help you?” he said, with all the sincerity of a store clerk.

The room broke into chuckles. Manny turned red when he realized what he’d done.

“Mr. Black,” cautioned the chief justice, “I’m sorry to inconvenience you with a trial. But you will not waste the court’s time. You have had almost two weeks to prepare your opening, since the prosecution gave theirs. I find that almost unethical, but my colleagues are inclined to listen. If you’re not ready to give your opening statement, then please tell us so. Or, better yet, concede the trial so we can get on to other pressing cases.”

Though Chief Justice Lee was known for his temper, and his harangues of lawyers from the bench were legendary, Manny did not seem to be bothered.

“My apologies to the court,” began Manny. “If it will make the court feel better I will not be giving the opening I had initially prepared.”

“I’ll bet,” muttered Lee.

“That’s quite enough, Chiang,” intoned Justice Tadasuke. “You may enjoy your cantankerous reputation, but now you’re just being rude.”

Before Chief Justice Lee could retort, Manny spoke up. “If it please the court, I will swear that my opening statement is not the one that I had prepared, and will accept a psyche audit to verify my statement. In fact, I am prepared to give, based on new information given to me only minutes ago, an entirely new statement.”

This brought a gasp from the crowd, and even Chief Justice Lee was momentarily silenced by the declaration. Justice Tadasuke spoke into the gap. “That will not be necessary, Mr. Black. Please proceed.”

Manny leaped from behind the desk and began pacing in front of the bench.

“If it please the court, I must admit that I’ve had a difficult time with this case. I’ll even admit that part of that difficulty arose from the very simple fact that I was probably going to lose.”

This brought a chuckle from the spectator section, and even the justices had to contain their laughter at such an open admission. The only one not laughing was Janet Delgado.

“But part of my difficulty,” continued Manny, “was in trying to find a way for my client, Mr. Justin Cord, to address the legitimate needs of society without sacrificing his sense of freedom. I think we can all agree that we’re a society that prides itself on the rights of the individual versus the rights of the government or society to force someone into an action contrary to their character or wishes. In fact, written in the Preamble to our Constitution is that cherished notion, and I quote, ‘We the people of the Terran Confederation, to ensure domestic tranquility, keep the peace, and protect the individual from the arbitrary, unjust, and immoral depredations of society and government do hereby enact this Constitution.’ I think we can also all agree that government does not have the right to take from a man what he does not want to give unless a compelling reason can be shown.”

Manny stopped pacing and looked directly at Janet Delgado, who, at this point, could only meet his look with a steely glare. “The prosecution in its opening,” he continued, “has done a superb job of alluding that damage has been done and that Justin Cord must contribute to this society as any other person must. A government that cannot pay its bills or enforce its laws is either useless or worse, a danger to the very people it claims to protect.” Manny paused and the crowd unconsciously leaned forward. “I hereby, in front of this esteemed bench and auditorium of legal witnesses, agree to
everything
that the prosecution said as being true. In fact, I will not contest a single point about the need for my client to pay his due.” There was an immediate buzz from around the court. As far as anyone could understand, Manny had just conceded the case to Janet Delgado and the government. All eyes were on Janet, and no one could understand why she wasn’t smiling at what should have been her moment of glory.

Manny approached the bench. “I understand the court’s desire to hurry the case along, which is why I won’t bother to contest the prosecution’s well-argued points.” He spoke directly to Chief Justice Lee. “That should save you half the trial, Your Honor.”

The chief justice was baffled. “Ms. Delgado, did you have anything to present to the court other than the evidence concerning Mr. Cord’s need to pay?”

Janet spoke through pursed lips. “No, Chief Justice, I do not.”

Justice Watanabe perked up. “So then, the prosecution rests?”

“If I may reserve the right to reopen, then yes,” Janet said, “the prosecution rests—depending, of course, on defense’s arguments.”

The buzzing in the chamber redoubled as the trial took a direction that nobody had anticipated. Justin was even more confused. Of all the strategies he’d discussed with Manny, outright surrender had not been one of them.

Chief Justice Lee cautioned the crowd. “I will have silence in this court or clear the room.” The room quieted down immediately. Lee consulted with his colleagues and they rapidly agreed.

“Your request is granted, Ms. Delgado, but I don’t see why you need it. Mr. Black just conceded the case and, I might add, squandered the court’s time.”

“If I may, Your Honor,” interrupted Manny, “I have conceded the prosecution’s argument, but not her conclusions.”

Justice Pac spoke for the first time. “One must follow the other, Mr. Black.”

“I must beg to differ, Your Honor. It is obvious to all that Justin Cord must contribute for the services he gets from society, but he does not need to
incorporate
to do that. The Constitution provides for another way. I will prove to this court that Justin Cord has the right to choose his method of payment. He may incorporate, but he also has the right”—Manny hesitated, knowing that what he was about to say would have reverberations far beyond the confines of the packed chamber—“to be taxed.”

Pandemonium broke out and the court had to be emptied. They did not reconvene until the next day.

Clara Roberts: “Unbelievable! I was expecting fireworks, but Manny Black has got to be the craziest lawyer in the history of the confederation. Can you imagine the chutzpah of proposing taxes to the Supreme Court of the Terran Confederation? The Constitution very clearly states no one can do that—ever! Maybe they think an insanity plea will work. Let’s take a caller. Eliana from Ceres, you’re on with Clara
.

Caller: Hello, Clara, I’m a first-time caller, and I just want to say that I love your show. My husband and I listen in all the time
.

Clara Roberts: Well, thank you, dear. What do you do?

Caller: I lease mining equipment to prospectors in the belt
.

Clara Roberts: That must be a good living
.

Caller: Well, I do alright, but I’m not planning my majority party just yet
.

Clara Roberts: [laughter] You following the trial?

Caller: It’s all we talk about, Clara. But I wouldn’t count Manny and Justin out yet
.

Clara Roberts: Why not, Eliana?

Caller: Did you see how nervous Janet Delgado looked?

—FROM
THE CLARA ROBERTS SHOW
, ASTEROID-BELT

INFORMATION RADIO (AIR) NETWORK

Janet barely waited for her and Hektor to be alone in a privacy booth. The second the door closed she shoved him back against the wall and snarled in his face. “Hektor, you bastard! Did I piss you off somehow? Did you think I was fucking with you? Are you working for Cord? How the fuck could you fucking do that, you fucking asshole?!”

Hektor remained calm. “Done?”

“Fuck you!” she screamed, and released her grip.

Hektor straightened his collar and rubbed his neck. “Tell me, Janet,” he said, an unrepentant smile working at the corners of his mouth, “what exactly do you think I did?”

“You told Manny about HR 27-03. Damsah’s balls, the Western Union man said it out loud! It took Manny all of a minute and a half to come up with a completely different strategy for winning this case, and you,” she said, jabbing her finger into his chest, “gave it to him!” A moment of doubt crept into her voice. “Tell me you gave it to him… right?”

Hektor nodded—gleeful. “Oh yes, I did.”

Her rage returned in an instant. With surprising strength Janet twirled Hektor around and shoved him hard against the other wall. The booth, designed for informational security and not structural integrity, shook under the assault. “They’ll have to keep you in cryo for a year by the time I’m done with you!” she snarled.

Hektor deflected her anger with a question. “Can he win?” he asked, dusting off his jacket.

“Of course he can fucking win! He’s got a fucking strategy now!”

Hektor looked at her and smiled. “Good… good.”

Janet saw by his relieved demeanor that this wasn’t a case of Hektor being an ass for the sake of being an ass. For some strange reason, he seemed to want the trial to go the other way. She was also smart enough to know that there were some things he wasn’t at liberty to explain.

“You realize,” she snarled, “you’re undermining me and shaking my confidence.”

“Janet,” he countered, “please believe me when I tell you this: I want you to do the best job you possibly can. Not to put you under more pressure, but if you don’t, there will be all sorts of hell to pay.”

Janet was so befuddled by Hektor’s odd behavior that she didn’t stop him as he opened the privacy booth, stepped into the busy hallway, and disappeared into the bustling crowd.

At the same moment, in a privacy booth about ten doors down, Justin was resisting the urge to do to Manny what Janet had done to Hektor. “Manny, ya mind telling me what’s going on?”

“A long shot, Mr. Cord. I’m such an idiot. I should have seen this myself, it’s brilliant.”

“You mean it’ll work?”

Manny gave him a doubtful look. “Well, the odds are still against us, but this line of argument has a much better chance than what we had before.”

“Manny, what exactly is ‘this line of argument’?”

“Mr. Cord, every moment I’m here is one I am not working on your case. I’ll explain it later.”

Justin took a deep breath and remembered why he hired the man. “Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Manny left the booth and, ignoring the swarm of reporters screaming questions, made his way down the hall toward his waiting car, journalistic throng in tow. His mind was already working on lines of argument.

One thing about trials in the modern era, mused Justin, was that they didn’t take long. He was so used to them taking months or even years that it always surprised him when he realized that most of the big cases he’d recently read about took place in days and, sometimes, even hours. At first he’d incorrectly thought it was a result of people’s natural disdain for the court system. But his own run-in with that system made him realize that his present culture was possibly even more trial addicted than that of his past. The answer, he came to realize, lay in the market system. Almost all court cases were private. The government didn’t outlaw many things, which meant that people were hardly ever in trouble with the law. In Justin’s day even honest, conscientious people could not help but break
some
laws. But in his present society a person or group going to court was almost always in trial against another plaintiff. And with private courts the emphasis was on speed. Although there were some cases where a client may have wanted to prolong a case, the overwhelming number of people wanted their cases resolved quickly. After all, they were paying not only for their lawyer, but also for the court, judge, jury, building, and other services. The quicker the trial went, the less expensive it was. Thus, over the decades and the centuries, courts developed the habit of working quickly. Still, thanks to Manny, Justin’s trial was looking to break land-speed records.

Manny was in fine form as he approached the bench.

“If the court will allow, I will bring up HR 27-03, passed in the third year after the formation of the Alaskan Federation.”

Janet Delgado rose to her feet. “I object!”

“On what grounds?” asked Chief Justice Lee.

“Relevance.”

“If the court will allow,” continued Manny. “Article five, section seven of the Confederation Constitution, also known as ‘the carry-over clause,’ states, ‘All laws, constitutional provisions, and amendments not in conflict with the strictures of this Constitution shall be considered effective until rendered not such by the appropriate legislative action.’ This was added so that the old laws—some of which might still have been relevant—would not have to be rewritten and passed into law all over again.”

The justices talked quietly among themselves and seemed to come to a quorum.

“Overruled.”

Janet seemed unsurprised.

Manny smiled, grateful to continue. “HR 27-03 is the first national incorporation bill. Its provisions have been ignored for centuries, given that it was more thoroughly covered by the Confederation Constitution. But section four of the law states, ‘Any individual who does not wish to incorporate and assign or have assigned 5 percent of said portfolio may choose to continue to pay 5 percent of all income as a tax.’ ”

Janet again rose to her feet. “Objection on two grounds, if the court will allow?”

“We’re hearing arguments for taxation,” groused Justice Lee, “why not this?”

“Relevance,” continued Janet. “The third amendment to the Constitution states that ‘any law not enforced or made use of for a period of fifty years is to be considered repealed.’ ”

“Your Honors,” interjected Manny, “section three of the third amendment states that the Supreme Court may accept a law as valid if they accept compelling reasons to do so.”

“You have yet to do so, Mr. Black,” Justice Lee stated with grim mien.

“But I should be allowed the opportunity to do so.”