Chapter 23: Sentence
The week flew by without any new evidence on Dad’s defense. I heard nothing from Austin so I wasn’t sure if he was going to help. Grandma and I sat down on chairs overlooking the courtroom. The room was full; approximately thirty people watched through the plexiglas window. Considering how most of these cases had few or no observers, this was a big deal. Most I recognized as colleagues of Dad from work, including Vaslor. He saluted me from across the room. Lacey and her mom were attending to show support. They sat behind us, and Lacey’s mom patted me on the shoulder for support.
“You’ll get through this, dear,” she said. “They have to realize that your father has committed no crime.” I nodded but felt no agreement. Justice would get whatever it wanted, in spite of the evidence. Another familiar face entered the room as Mr. Stewart crossed to the opposite corner. If he saw me, he showed no recognition. I couldn’t tell if he was here to support or ridicule. A door opened below as a judge entered and sat down. I was pleasantly surprised that Lord Morall wasn’t presiding. The court must have realized the conflict of interest. The judge was younger than I expected, mid-forties with jet black hair and a square jaw. He looked like a man who administered justice. Then he did something I didn’t expect. He addressed the gallery.
“With today’s swift and thorough justice system, it is unusual to have an audience to the proceedings. Let me make myself perfectly clear. You are observers, not participants. I will brook no interference, catcalls, yelling, clapping, banging on the window or noise of any kind. This is your one and only warning — any interruptions will be met with your automatic expulsion.” The door opened behind us and two security guards stationed themselves around the room. Their serious expressions reinforced that we would be removed if we broke the rules. A few people nodded. The judge took our silence as acceptance and motioned towards the door in the courtroom.
It opened and a bailiff escorted in my dad, who walked weakly. The stress of the last few weeks had been unkind to him, and he had lost weight. A couple of people who hadn’t seen him in a while gasped. Dad looked up at the window at me and Grandma and I waved. A woman stepped towards Dad while a man stood on the opposite side. As my dad’s defense attorney, she spoke first.
“As stated in my client’s deposition, crime footage appears to be altered. As a representative of the justice system, it was his duty to bring forward this information to address a miscarriage of justice for the client, Lou Reigns. There has been no evidence brought forward that he, himself, altered the footage for his own means. Although the culprit has yet to be identified, it is not his responsibility to bring forward the guilty party. On behalf of my client, I demand his immediate release.” She stepped backwards and stood beside my father.
“Thank you, Ms. Bennett. Mr. Martinez,” the judge turned towards the other lawyer, “please make your statement.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. I agree with part of the statement made by Ms. Bennett. A grave injustice has been made. An innocent man lost a decade of his life that he will never regain. The legal system process of reviewing footage is impeccable. No one can touch drone file footage without leaving an electronic footprint. Everyone who reviews footage before editing is recorded. No technician works alone; all are paired to download and record footage. Once the footage is released, the only people to review the footage are the defense and prosecution. The footage is only screened in the lawyer’s office and returned. In essence, the only other person to view this person’s footage was lawyer Evan Anderson. By process of elimination, he is the only one who could have altered the footage.”
“Objection, your Honor,” Ms. Bennett interjected. “Someone else could have entered the office and replaced or altered the footage. We should be searching for that guilty party, not condemning the person who brought this offense to light.”
“Only because he was likely worried the true footage would blemish his otherwise prefect prosecution record,” Mr. Martinez countered. “The tracker counter in the footage showed that it never left his office and was never alone with anyone else.”
I gasped because I realized that fact was wrong. I had been left alone with the footage for a few minutes. However, announcing that fact might not help Dad’s case. Either I would be declared guilty myself or of working together with my dad to distract the technician. My grandma looked at me and raised her finger to be quiet.
“Unless the security protocols you mention are not as infallible as you say.” Ms. Bennett glared at the other lawyer.
“Strike that from the record,” the judge commanded to a drone recorder. He looked at Ms. Bennett. “One more comment like that and you will be removed from this courtroom. Our legal system has been flawless for the last twenty years. Do not criticize it to create some type of government-wide conspiracy to prove your client’s innocence. Now, do either of you have any more facts to provide to this court?”
“No, your Honor,” the lawyers replied in unison.
The judge looked up at the gallery. “If there is no other evidence, I am ready to provide a verdict.”
My heart thumped twice as fast as panic seeped into my blood. A barking interrupted at the door. One of guards moved towards it and pulled the handle. A drone dog came running in, holding a small tablet in its mouth. Lola! It stopped in front of the guard, dropped the tablet gently on the floor and looked up, barking incessantly. The guard was wary of Lola but picked up the tablet and looked at the screen. After a few seconds, his face became puzzled and he spoke into his radio. He then turned towards the other guard.
“Follow me and bring the drone dog.” The other guard looked down and then shrugged. Lola had disappeared through the closing door, eliminating the link to Austin. The guard with the tablet reappeared downstairs and gave it to the judge. Several people in the gallery began to whisper. The guard in the room shook his head and all became quiet. We watched for several minutes as the judge looked at the screen, his face confused and alarmed. He then connected the tablet and its content showed up on the main screen.
“It is unusual for evidence to be provided in this manner. Bailiff, bring in a technician to verify.” The judge pointed to one of the guards, who exited the room. Then the judge waved upward. “Look at the screen before you — each light is a symbol for everyone in this room and those above in the gallery.” A schematic appeared of the room’s interior.
“Are we being tracked?” a woman in the room commented. She moved around the room, and her glowing orange light moved on the computer screen. The judge clicked on a folder and a video appeared. The footage was dated the same as the date for Lou’s supposed. The video played, showing Lou working at his stall — time-coded for 3:38 in the afternoon. His light on the screen was magnified and confirmed his location.
The judge then played the footage showing Lou stealing, same identical time! When the location was enlarged, an unknown person was highlighted. Not Lou! The whole gallery erupted into conversation. The judge motioned us to silence.
“Enough! I am declaring this case in recess until this new evidence can be analyzed. This technology,” waving to the screen with our lighted locations, “has much greater ramifications than just this case.” People in the gallery started to stand up, anticipating the trial was over. The door slammed open below in the courtroom, signaling that it wasn’t over. Lord Morall, the bailiff and a man in a lab coat burst through the door. The technician grabbed the tablet and the screen went blank.
“I apologize to the people of the court. The evidence is false. Someone, likely in league with the suspect, has fabricated the evidence. There is NO ability to track people, and the footage showing the other criminal, Lou Reigns, in another location at the time of his crime is false!”
“No! You’re lying!” I yelled. I couldn’t take it anymore. No matter what evidence was brought forward, it was immediately dismissed. Someone had to speak up. “This isn’t a trial. No one is presumed innocent. The result is predetermined. You’re the liar, and everyone who challenges you and your system is destroyed. I don’t know what Lou did to be falsely accused but my dad is innocent. You know that!”
I turned around and looked at the wide eyes of the surrounding people. “Our city is safe if we don’t ask too many questions. Cameras watch our every move, and if we fall out of line, we become the guilty. Justice doesn’t keep us safe. Justice ended when we became controlled by the drones. Our freedom is a lie.” I turned back from the gallery and looked down at Morall’s face.
“You’re the cause of this!” I yelled and felt heavy arms grab around my midsection and my mouth. The door to the gallery burst open and a number of guards exploded into the room.
“Empty the gallery!” Lord Morall yelled from below as guards began grabbing people and taking them through the door. “Bring the girl down to the courtroom.” The arms around me were solid and unbreakable. My family and friends were pulled away from me like leaves in the wind. Although my mouth was covered, I watched as Grandma was escorted away. She didn’t resist but nodded in my direction and mouthed “I love you.” I looked behind her and saw Lacey fighting unsuccessfully with another guard as she and her mother were escorted out. Then the room was empty, with the door slamming in the silence.
Rough hands took me downstairs, and doors into the courtroom opened. My dad’s eyes met mine and he struggled with his guard, on the verge of losing control. I could tell he was panicking that I would sentenced with him.
“Bring her over to me,” Lord Morall commanded. A chair was placed in front of me. When I didn’t sit down, a hand pushed down on my shoulder. Morall dropped the tablet into my lap.
“Is this yours?” I remained silent. “It’s a crime to create fake evidence. Since your father has been confined, you are the most logical choice. Admit it and we’ll go easy on you.” His eye shone straight into mine. I stayed silent. He paced and looked at me. “It is your right to remain silent, however, the officer,” pointing to the bailiff, “will have to detain you for thirty days until we determine the truth. Unfortunately, your father won’t have that time.”
“You’re disgusting, Morall! Threatening a young girl. When did our justice system sink so low? You want to hurt me, go ahead, but leave her alone!” my dad yelled while one of the guards grabbed his right wrist and pulled it behind his back.
“I don’t know who sent the footage,” I lied. “Probably someone in your own office. Since you’re so defensive, you must agree.” I wasn’t sure if my lie fooled him. I couldn’t get Austin in trouble for the risk he took. Morall seemed to consider my comments. He motioned and Vaslor walked into the courtroom.
“It doesn’t matter, we’ll find the guilty party…”
“Try looking in a mirror,” I yelled. A hand clamped over my mouth.
“That’s enough! We’ll deal with you later. In the meantime, I am instructing Judge Gabriel to disregard this evidence and make a ruling.” My eyes turned to the judge, who looked uncomfortable. He was silent and appeared to ponder his options.
“A decision!” Lord Morall yelled.
“Uh-huh.” He cleared his throat. “Based on the evidence, I can only conclude that former prosecutor, Evan Anderson, is the only one with means to alter the footage. He is guilty of falsifying evidence and for falsely accusing the justice system of corruption. Sentencing will occur next week.”
My dad looked fairly stoic but his eyes gave away his heartbreak. I tried to scream but the hand was too tightly clasped over my mouth. I tried to bite but quickly realized that the hand was not human but a drone. My teeth weren’t going to puncture metal.
“Thank you, Judge Gabriel. The three of you may leave.” Lord Morall motioned to the judge and the two lawyers. They glanced at each other and silently filed out of the room. The door slammed behind them.
“Morall! Leave my daughter out of this. If you need to punish someone, punish me!” my dad yelled as one of the guards restrained him.
Morall smiled. “I’m glad we agree on something, Evan.” He turned to the right. “Lieutenant Vaslor, bring Mr. Anderson to the sentencing machine.”
“But Judge Gabriel said the sentencing would be next week.” Vaslor looked alarmed.
“I supersede the judge’s authority,” Morall stated, “and I will apply the sentencing now.”
“Judge Gabriel decides the term sir,” Vaslor stated defiantly.
“Since he’s not here,” Morall stepped within several inches of Vaslor’s face, “I will take over that responsibility. If you are unable to carry out my orders, shall I find someone else?”
Vaslor’s face looked conflicted. “That won’t be necessary.” He motioned to the guards. One opened the door as the other pulled my dad with him.
“Bring her with us. She needs to see this.”
Vaslor looked ready to question him but thought better of it.
“No! What are you doing?” My dad struggled. “The public do not watch the sentencing.”
Morall looked straight at him. “Today they will.” The drone pulled me like I weighed nothing. Trying to move away from it was like swimming in cement. The drone separated its fingers, allowing me to breathe more freely.
“Let me go!” I squeaked as the drone dragged me down the hallway. If anyone heard my cry, they ignored me. Seconds passed but felt like hours as the cold sterile hallway passed. The lights hummed but the only other people we passed were other guards. Most stared forward as if they could block us from their minds. I noticed one guard stealing a glance at me. I pleaded with my eyes for help but he swiftly returned to staring forward. Then two sliding doors opened in front of us.
I had never seen the ‘Sentencer’ before. I had heard enough of it from Dad and seen its results from Lou. We were in a room within a room. It was a small structure with a single bench inside. The front door was glass, allowing an audience to view the process. My dad had described it as a modern version of the electric chair used by the legal system decades before. There was an engine in the back, almost like a huge fan compressor that would suck the years out of the criminal. It was the most horrible sight I had seen in my entire life.
“Put him in there.” Morall motioned to Vaslor. He complied, opened the door and escorted Dad inside. My dad’s frame was defeated but his eyes still radiated defiance. He would not beg for his release. Vaslor’s hand lingered on Dad’s shoulder for a moment and then he closed the small chamber. Two horizontal locks fastened immediately and four vertical locks were pulled into place. The cage was set. Morall stepped up to a control panel to the right of the machine.
“As per procedure, the criminal is granted two minutes for any last words. Do you have anything to say?” My dad stood up and put his hands on the glass door.
“Can I speak to my daughter?” Morall nodded and motioned to the drone holding me. Suddenly I could move again and rushed to my father. I placed my hand on the glass, looking at him on the other side.
“Dad,” I cried, “why is this happening? You’ve done nothing wrong!” Tears welled up in my eyes as rage and sorrow mixed.
“It’s done, Pene. Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter. But you have to listen to me. I need you to promise something for me.”
“Anything,” I answered. And I truly meant it.
“Stay. Look after your grandma. Finish school. Go to university downtown. Make this city a better place.”
“But Dad — you sound like you won’t be here.”
“I’m not, Pene. They are going to age me twenty-five years! It’s going to be too much. I won’t make it. Even if I do, I’ll be a vegetable and I won’t remember what makes you special. Promise me you’ll stay in this city for me. I need to know you’ll be safe.”
I gulped. This city represented everything I hated, everything I wanted to leave behind. And he wanted me to stay. He thought he was protecting me. If I tried to escape, then I would end up like him. There was no time to think, to negotiate his request. So I said the only thing I could think of.
“I’ll stay.” My dad nodded to Morall, who immediately directed the drone to pull me back. “Noooo!” I screamed as the drone’s hands immediately covered my mouth again.
Morall turned and his hand swept over a console. He pulled down a lever and the chamber hummed to life. The lights above my head blinked as a huge amount of power was being drawn. I turned to look at my dad.
His hands were flat against the window. He looked at Moral, then Vaslor and then finally at me. He smiled. Then his life drained away. The years began adding to his face. His forehead creased, his hair turned gray. His hands became thin as the veins protruded, and liver spots appeared. His smile disappeared as his body sagged and he dropped to the floor. My throat constricted as I watched the years added to my dad’s frame. The glass screen shook and his body shimmered. I shook my head, as if my dad’s image was disappearing. As he hit the floor, it became clear again.
A large clump of white hair fell off my dad’s head. His body was frail, and he looked so thin that he could be broken in two. He was no longer the energetic lawyer in the pursuit of justice. He was no longer the man who cooked me breakfast, who once tossed me on his knee. His face was alien to me; he was a hundred years old. In that moment, I looked at Morall. His face was serene, as if watching a man’s life flow out of him was an everyday occurrence. In that moment, I knew that someday I would kill him.
Then I turned and watched my dad die.