Life was as one could come to expect. Seeing the statistics, it was obvious that humanity had to come together to tackle the problems with its success: overpopulation. This was solved through a few minor changes: mandatory castration after the parenting of two children, alterations to the food supply and cramped living space. The world was slowly turning into a sprawling megalopolis, hungrily consuming the countryside.

Houses gave way to honeycomb apartments as a part of the solution to the population issue. The honeycombs were communal apartment buildings with all rooms except a bedroom shared. The bedroom was not quite a room – it was a three foot tall, four foot wide hexagonal cut into a massive wall. Wall displays, a mattress and a shelf of a few prized possessions was all that the hexagons contained.

Petra descended from her cubby in the topmost layer that could access the 130th floor of her apartment. The short ginger climbed down with practiced ease despite the astonishing hour. At four, as dawn began to turn the winter skies of Shinshiga grey, Petra felt like the last human alive. It was ironic that she passed hundreds of sleeping souls to the communal bathroom and yet felt quite lonely. It was, she knew, the result of her occupation and hardworking nature. It was not that she was required to be awake at four, merely that she chose to in a futile attempt to earn a little profit.

As a public defendant, she did not earn too much. In fact, to say she earned was, on many days, entirely false. Yet she strove. She was pursuing a good cause and felt that she would be rewarded in due time by some higher force. Of course, her landlady, her father and many of her friends reminded her of the practicalities of money.

Petra sighed, taking the empty train to the local court, gripping the pepper spray at both the intervening stations out of fear of the city. The city was safe, but at four in the morning, it was common practice for people to say she was "asking for it." She was a lawyer and knew that even with technology, rape was the hardest thing to prove. Not that it happened often: crime was so rare that the police were largely sinecures and yet, somehow, work got done. There were rarely convictions and the court was generally empty except for a few lawsuits where one of the parties were poor enough to stoop to Petra's level. Not that she was bad, it was just that she was unknown.

The subway stopped at the court's station where there was a direct underground path to the building. All transport was managed underground as it was known that these short transits were best not built in places where people would actually enjoy the sparse sunlight. Living spaces, offices and other facilities where people would spend entire days were allocated sunlight spaces – Petra's modest hexagon did have a window-screen.

The court waiting area was, by design, well-lit. Here, poor criminals looked at the sorry bunch of lawyers that gathered to be the last, feeble net between them and prison. Fortunately, today, they got Petra. At this hour, they would be guaranteed Petra as she was the only person behind the screen waiting for a potential sum.

Petra began to read her book on her visor – a small headband she kept on except in the shower or bed to keep her up to date on every detail of her hectic life. Suddenly, as the plot began to twist, a throat cleared and the visor alerted her of a visitor. Petra glanced about, secretly scanning for the missing competition. It was only five thirty in the morning and nobody made their usual seven o'clock entrance early.

Behind the screen in front of her stood a short man. His black eyes and hair gave him an intensity that made up for his height. He looked at Petra with some authority that a criminal did not have rights to have. Most did. They were depressed by fate and turned to some irrational air of superiority. Petra knew how to dismiss their attitude quite quickly. "How may I help?" She asked.

"In the obvious way."

"Crime?"

"Free thought."

"Actually. Crime?"

"Thinking against the government, wanting a better world-"

"We all want that, so why are you on coals for it?"

"Because I tried for it."

"How?" Petra emphasized the boredom in her voice, hoping that her act was stronger than his.

"Killing a judge."

"What's the evidence?"

"My presence and knife."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Hand over the brief, the case will be quick."

"You're sure?"

"Intent to kill is not the same as killing. Therapy will be mandated by the system and then you will be free as if little happened."

"Little?"

"What?"

"You said 'little,' not 'nothing.'"

"There will be innocuous monitoring."

"Innocuous?"

"Yes. The government will track you."

"I already think they do."

"Well then, nothing will change."

"Do I owe you?"

"I wish."

"And when's the hearing?"

"Judge will come in at eight, so we have just over two hours."

The man sat down. After a silence in which Petra tried to read over the brief, the man cleared his throat once more. "Yes?" Petra said.

"Why law?"

"What?"

"Why be a lawyer?"

"Public service."

"Like this? Surely there's a better way."

"Like?"

"The police, the court system, some business, research, something different."

"Somebody's got to do it."

"Why you?"

"Why you?"

"What?"

"Why would you be the martyr or whatever vigilante to uncover some corrupt government?"

"I threatened the judge to get here and get a feel for the system."

"What?"

"I wish to learn what makes the system tick, how it works, how people judge other people, how people lose, how they win, how they're caught, how they improve and most of all how they feel."

"So you put yourself in trouble?"

"You might be the best person to ask. How long would the therapy be?"

"Actually, and sorry if this messes up your research, but reading your brief, it seems that you could be freed completely."

"The research is interviewing you."

"What's your name?"

"Levi Ackerman." Petra began to search the man on the internet, hoping he did not have something more menacing in his record. "Online, I go by Makishima."

"Psycho-pass?"

"It's a joke I'm playing on myself."

"You probably have his sense of humour."

"As a character in an Anime, he's too perfect: no real human can be that way."

"So, do you wish to destroy the system as your avatar did?"

"In a way. I want to understand how the system works."

"Why?"

"Find out if it needs destruction."

"Surely a modification would do the trick." The system was a democratic model based on a representative government that proposed change and the people who all voted on the changes online. People could suggest laws to representatives, but there was little chance those changes were implemented.

"The more one knows, the better, I would say."

"Fascinating. What bothers you about the system?"

"Long story."

"We have got time."

"It goes into my childhood."

"I'll go into mine if it makes you feel better."

"If you insist on it, I will tell you everything."

"I insist."

"Legally?"

"What will I be bound to?"

"Secrecy."

"Where do I sign?"

"I've recorded it on my site through your visor."

"Let's hope this doesn't mess me up, right?" Petra said in a quirky which oscillated between humour and concern.