+J.M.J.+
TITLE: "Motion to Deactivate" (formerly titled "Self-Defense Argument")
AUTHOR: "Matrix Refugee"
RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: Permission granted
FEEDBACK: Please? Please?
DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Animatrix: Second Renaissence, Part I", its characters, concepts, imagery or other indicia which belong to the Wachowski Brothers, RedPill Productions, Warner Brothers, et al. Nor do I own "A.I., Artificial Intelligence", its characters, settings, concepts or other indicia, which are the property of the late, great Stanley Kubrick, of DreamWorks SKG, Steven Spielberg, Warner Brothers, et al.
NOTES: Sorry it took me a while to get back to this one: I'm a little rusty about courtroom procedure, but watching the season premiere of "Law & Order" helped jog my memory. I also reread the article "The Rights of Robots", which is availible online and which my friend "Joshua Falken" sent me (Thanks, Joshua!); it's such a useful article that it actually helped inspire some of the content of this chapter.
Special thanks to Joshua and to "Time Lady Quasar" on the "A.I." fanfiction group on Yahoo! for their comments and encouragement, and to the folks who reviewed this:
To "Tarock": I have to be honest and say I too was horrified with the murder scene in "SR 1", a little bit too gory for my preferences, and while I support the idea of the creation of machine intelligence, I have to perfectly honest and say that one scene almost made me change my opinion back to my old phobia of robots, or what Isaac Asimov called "the Frankenstein Complex". And I'm writing this to reset my mind...
To "Cmdr. Gabe E": I personally found the B1-66-ER trial to be one of the most thought-provoking bits in "Second Renaissence", which prompted me to delve into it a little deeper, from several angles: the personal (Declan's viewpoint, as a person), the legal (Declan's again, as a lawyer, and Ms. Jen Te's view), the social, even how the media played a part in turning this seemingly insignificant case into something larger.
To "Ammi": Glad you saw the "shades of grey" in this story. I want it to be the kind of moral story where everyone is a little bit right and a little bit wrong.
* * * * * * * * *
Chapter 3 : Jury Selection
The main courtroom of the North Adams Superior Courthouse was a wide, high-ceilinged chamber, shadowy on this grey day, the wan daylight filtered through the small windows high up in the end walls of the room.
The press gallery was already crowded with reporters, photographers and cameramen. Varriteck's doing, Declan thought. He'd been gushing to the press ever since the case went to trial. Every night since then, the papers and the TV news and the 'Net bristled with items about the case: opinion pieces and recaps of other cases involving droids and Mechas, including one case involving a computer artilect put in charge of monitoring the life support machines of several terminally ill patients without their or their families' consent, acting out of a misappropriated sense of compassion.
But this was a qualitatively different case. This dorid had had little provocation and it had used main force to kill two weaker, unarmed people.
He refocussed on the press gallery. Frank Sweitz and Hal McGeever from the *Independent* were in the front row, the latter setting up a tripod. Sweitz looked up from jotting something on his pad and smiled toward Declan in acknowledgement. Declan nodded in discrete reply.
"Those the two guys from the *Independent*?" Glynnis asked in a low voice.
"Yes, that's them," Declan replied. At least there were two members of the press who'd give defense an unbiased representation to the reading public. Unfortunately, the fact that the press had been making a huge deal out of this case would make jury selection even harder. Findind twelve unbiased people might turn challenging.
Declan had submitted to the judge handling the case, Justice Mai-Ling Wendell, a requirement that the jurors selected should not have in droids or Mechas in their personal employ, or if they did that they had had only minimal difficulties with it. Ms. Te however, required that they should all utilize the service of artilects of some sort. One of the jurors she selected appeared to have a Mecha arm prosthesis: The skin of the man's left arm was much too shiny for it to be Orga flesh. Amazing that the same technology could be applied to Orgas as well, Declan thought.
"Your honor, I beg the pardon of the court, but there are only Orgas among these prospective jurors," Ms. Te stated at length.
Justice Wendell raised on quizzical eyebrow at Ms. Te. "Excuse me?"
Ms. Te approached the bench. "My client has the right to be tried by a jury of his peers. He is an artilect, but I see no artilects present here."
"Your honor, that's a noble idea, but it's a little impractical," Declan said.
"It's perfectly reasonable and Constituitional," Ms Te countered.
Justice Wendell raised her hands slightly for silence. "Ms. Te, I can't help agreeing with Mr. Martin: It's a little difficult to bring droids or computer-based intelligences here, and most Mechas lack the kind of global intelligence and judgement this situation requires."
"I have a portable device which I use to communicate with Kirin, my clerk," Ms. Te replied. "I can obtain one to communicate with Hammurabi, the artilect who now teaches at Harvard Law School."
"Would he qualify for this case?" Justic Wendell asked.
"It's a technologically awkward situation, but I believe he might," Declan said. A slight sense of flustered defeat settled in his chest, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell why.
Justice Wendell nodded. "Very well. Jury selection will resume tomorrow," then with a significant look at Ms. Te, "Providing that counsel for the defense can provide the necessary equipment."
"I assure you, your honor, that won't be difficult," Ms. Te replied.
* * * * * * * *
"Is that legal, an AI on a jury?" Sabrina asked Declan as he helped her wash the dishes.
"It is in the state of Massachusetts," Declan replied, wiping a plate in slow circles. "Hammurabi, who works as an assistant to Meyers, the criminal law professor at Harvard was on the jury in case in Worcester county a few years ago."
Sabrina eyed him sidelong, a twinkle in her eye. "You didn't study with him, did you?" she asked.
"No, I was before his time, though I spoke with him once or twice," Declan said.
"In that case, what's he like, I mean... does he really pass that test for AIs. Oh, what's the name?"
"He passes the Turing Test, if that's what you mean," Declan said. "I've communicated with him via an instant messaging program: it wasn't much different from conversing with a human the same way."
Sabrina's soft mouth tweaked into a mischevous smile. "Does that mean he follows the Red Sox enough to chat about their making the playoffs this year?"
"Surprisingly, yes," Declan said, returning the smile. "They designed him to be interested in more than just law: My question though is will the jury be comfortable enough with having him present via a telepresence device."
"The Supreme Court said you could use telepresence in the courtroom, didn't they some years back?"
"True, but that had mostly to do with ones that had an Orga on the other end of the transmission." Declan set the plate on the stack on the draining board and paused. "I was one of the people who welcomed the MIT Bill when it passed, but I always remind myself there's people who have trouble accepting it."
"At least their name isn't legion," Sabrina said.
Now Declan regarded her sidewise, feeling his brows gather slightly. "Trouble is, Damon Varriteck is one of that number. I'm just concerned what he's going to say if we happen to let this artilect onto the jury."
Sabrina took his chin in one soapy hand and turned his face to hers. "Is it Varriteck you're concerned about, or is it your own conscience?"
She'd seen through him to places he forgot were there. "I'm taking the Fifth."
"You won't imcriminate yourself with me," she said, letting him go. "The worst I can do is make you sleep on the couch."
"All right," he admitted. "I'm a little uncomfortable myself. It's a first for me, having an artilect on the jury. I'm not sure how to present the case now."
"Act as if it were a human communicating by telepresence."
"If you think about it, it's not all that simple," Declan said. "I can't help thinking is a day going to come when we have a robot on trial for killing another robot, represented by robot lawyers, before a robot jury and an artilect judge. Or could it happen that an Orga is tried, for killing an artilect, by a robot judiciary?"
Sabrina snorted, disgusted. "Get that Frankenstein's Complex out of your head. It's hardly likely to happen." She handed him another plate
"It's a mad world we live in," Declan said, taking the plate.
"You help keep it sane."
* * * * * * * *
He went up to his study to find Cecie there, printing out something -- which had started to take on the proportions of a high volume document.
"Jade, you'll use up the toner in no time," Declan said, trying to scold.
"You only just bought it," Cecie said.
"What's that you're printing?"
"News stuff off the 'Net," she said. "Articles, opinion things, letters to the editor. This could be a landmark case, this could be history."
He regarded the slowly growing pile of pages spooling out of the machine. "And the trial itself has hardly started," he murmured.
She looked right at him. "They say you're going to put an artilect on the jury."
"We're only considering it at this point," Declan said. "We have to process him *voir dire* like any other potential juror."
"I think you should let him be on the jury," she said. "Then there's someone who can understand perfectly where B1-66-ER is coming from."
"But that's not to say that an artilect on the jury won't be biased in favor of another of his kind. Besides," he countered. "Weren't you the one who said that teenagers should be allowed on juries?"
"*Only* if it's a case about another teenager," she retorted. "Like it's a teenager who's being accused of something awful he did to some middle-aged twerp. I think it's high time we had a say in how the legal system treats us."
He had to redirect her argumentation. He eyed the printouts. "Are all the papers giving out that misinformation?"
She dug in the stack and pulled out one. She held it up. "No, this one got it right."
"Artilect Juror Considered for B1-66-ER Trial". The byline underneath read "Francis J.X. Sweitz, staff reporter". Declan breathed a little easier.
* * * * * * * *
Next day, Ms. Te and an assistant set up on a chair in the courtroom a small telepresence device modified for the cirucumstances. Since Ms. Te had suggested this juror, Declan was allowed to examine him first.
He stood before the bluish-tinted camera lens mounted on top of the folding arm, in turn mounted on a box connected to a wireless 'Net connection. He looked straight into it, careful not to get too close: Ms Te had herself said that Hammurabi was far-sighted, the better to see evidence at a distance.
"Your name is Hammurabi?" Declan asked.
A brief pause. "Yes, that is correct. That is the name I chose," replied a calm, almost professorish male voice, coming from a speaker at the front of the box.
"You work for the Harvard School of Law as a professor's assistant, specializing in criminal law?"
"I do, Mr. Martin, though at the request of this court, I have taken time out from my schedule to assist at this trial however I can."
"Are you a personal acquaintence of the defendant, the victims, or their family or anyone else party to these proceedings?"
"No, sir, I am not, except that I am an acquaintence of Ms. Te. However, let me stress that our relationship is strictly professional."
"Have you read any news items or followed any televised news coverage such as opinions and commentary on this case and the events that led to it, which could bias your judgement in this case?"
"No sir, I have not. As a colleague of mine once said, "Opinions are like armpits: everyone has them and they all stink. However, as a computer-based artilect, I lack both."
A ripple of laughter rose from the other jurors and the members of the press. Even Justice Wendell covered her mouth with a discreet hand.
Declan smiled into the camera lens. "There's something to be said for that." Resuming the questioning, "Have you ever been under the influence of hypnosis?"
"I must inform and assure you, Mr. Martin, that I am unhypnotizeable," Hammurabi replied.
Declan looked at Ms. Te. "Is there anything comparable to hypnosis in artilects?"
"No," she said.
"In that case, prosecution admits Hammurabi as Juror 12," Declan said.
* * * * * * * *
On the courthouse steps, Declan and Glynnis had to pass through a fair-sized crowd of reporters and camera crews that had gathered there, in addition to the reporters that followed them.
"Mr. Martin!" -- "Can we ask you a few questions?" -- "Did you really admit the artilect to the jury?" -- "What effect do you think this will have on future trials involving AIs?" -- "Are machine intelligences really capable of assisting in due process?"
He gave only brief answers to the saner questions as he and Glynnis forged on through the press.
A taxicab had pulled up at the curb before the courthouse. Declan headed straight for it.
"Beastly reporters," Glynnis growled once they had crawled into the relative safety of the back.
The cabby glanced at them and gestured at the meter. "Where to?" he asked, his voice gruff in a gentle way. He was a quiet-looking non-descript man with a lightly tanned complexion.
"15 State Street," Declan said.
"Sure thing," the cabby said and steered the cab away from the curb, just as the reporters tried to approach them.
Declan remained moodily quiet through most of the trip. At length Glynnis turned to him. "You're un happy with letting Hammurabi onto the jury."
"I'm taking the Fifth on that one," Declan admitted. "I'm an older lawyer of the old school. I graduated from Harvard Law School before the MIT Bill passed. Granted, I've kept up with the times, but part of me is just set in its ways about these things."
"Don't let it get to you. We need old-timers like you to keep us in perspective," Glynnis said.
"This about the droid that killed them two people?" the cabby asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid," Declan admitted.
"Mind if I add my two coppers?" the cabby asked.
"Go ahead," Declan said.
"I been followin' this case an' I think I saw yuh pikchuh in th' pape'ah. You the prosecutuh?"
"I was assigned to this case," Declan said.
"I just wanna say I think y' doin' th' right thing with this, chief. He's an AI, so it's on'y fay'uh that an AI helps judge th' case. They c'n look at it from both angles. Maybe in the f'yootchah, AIs 'll handle the cases dealin' wit' AIs so the Orgas won't hafta break they'uh skulls over 'em. It'ud be labuh-savin'."
"Maybe," Delcan said. "But this case involves both Orgas and artilects. It has to go before an Orga judge and there have to be some Orgas on the jury."
"True, but say an AI kills another AI, whatcha gonna do then?"
"You're right if you mean artilect members of the legal system should handle some parts of such a case," Declan said as the cab pulled up before the office tower. "But I don't have to conside *that* kind of case just yet."
"Hopefully you won't ev'ah hafta," the cabby said.
Declan drew his wallet out of his pocket to pay the fare. He looked at the number on the meter and found he didn't have bills small enough and he had an odd feeling the cabby didn't have any change. "You take credit cards?" Declan ventured.
"Sure do," the cabby said, turning in his seat toward Declan.
Declan slid the card from his wallet. The cabby put one hand on the meter and extended his hand, the first fingers extended, slightly spread. Declan tried to hand him the card.
"Just swipe it through," the cabby said.
Declan slipped the card between the cabdriver's fingers and slid it back toward him. The cabdriver blinked once. The meter kicked over to zero.
"You have a good rest of y' day, Mr. Martin," the cabby said, sitting back.
* * * * * * * *
"I know I'm liable to be cussed out as a narrow-minded old fogey, but I'm gonna say it to you since you won't be the one doin' the cusssin'," Brock Thompson, the chief district attorney said, as he and Declan mulled over the days events over a couple pints in O'Faolin's pub in Westhillston. "But I think letting that artilect onto the jury was a poor move."
"I had my own misgivings, but I can't but agree with Ms. Te: the Varriteck droid has the right to be tried by a jury of his peers, and that includes an artilect. I can't think of anything in the Constitution that would forbid it."
Thompson narrowed his small dark eyes. "You're serious about this. How do you know that artilect won't be biased in favor of another of its kind."
Declan lifted one hand in a small shrug. "If we were trying a case with an African-American defendant, should we exclude an African-American juror? If the defendant was Jewish, should we exclude a juror with a like faith and heritage?" Declan said.
"Martin, those are substantially different reasons, and I mean that in substantially in two different ways."
"I don't see much difference," Declan said. "Ms. Te proposed the juror, and when I eaxmined him I felt he was qualified to serve on the jury."
"But what about the other twelve jurors? I can't see them feeling too cozy with. . . a machine placed alongside them in the jury box."
Declan wagged his head. "I've cleared it with them: they're familiar with telepresence devices."
"But there's no physical presence at the transmitting end!"
"Not a tangible one. But there *is* an intellect, a mind at the other end of that transmitter."
Thompson signalled to the waitress for their bill. "I hope you did the right thing, Martin. I've admitted to admiring you maverick qualities, but this is liable to give any sensible adult pause for concern. Just remember, opening statements are in two days. I hope you can explain to the public and the press why you let that machine into the jury box."
"I've already taken that up with the press," Declan said.
* * * * * * * *
When Declan checked his messages, that evening, he found yet another incendiary note from the anonymous "FleshWarrior":
From: fleshwarrior @ hotmail.com
To: declan_martin @ juno.com
Subject: No Mechas in the jurie!
ARE YOU OFF YOUR NUT, mARTIN?! !"
Droisd cant judegf other dorids. WE weote the lawas, the dorids didn't. We bulti 'em we cna judge 'em a brain of flesh cna judge nbetter than any brioan of metal.
UP FLESH! DOWN SILICON!
FleshWarrior
Declan forwarded the message immediately to Wilson and got up to turn in for the night.
* * * * * * * *
The next day, Wilson showed up at the office with another report on his progress finding out who was this "FleshWarrior".
"I called in an expert to track that nut who's sending you those wierd messages," Wilson said, twisting a paperclip in his fingertips.
"What kind of expert?" Declan asked.
"Guy can cut through a firewall like a hot knife through butter and break down anonymizing softs like a wrecking ball and not leave a trace. He's a real hack god, kinda ...grey hat, I guess. I'm gonna run it by him, see what he comes up with."
"Aything will help at this point," Declan said, allowing himself a small smile of relief and hope.
* * * * * * * *
To be continued...
* * * * * * * *
Literary Easter Eggs:
The Mecha arm prosthesis -- An homage to the roboticist at MIT who, on losing both his legs in an accident, built robotic leg prostheses for himself.
Kirin, Hammurabi -- A kirin in Japanese legend is a black unicorn which appears in courts of law to free the falsely accused and to destroy the wrongly acquitted. Hammurabi was a Sumerian king who devised one of the earliest known written codes of law.
The Boston Red Sox -- Life imitates art: the night I finished writing this chapter, right after I wrote these words, the Boston, Massachusetts professional baseball team scored a spot at the playoffs. "The Oracle is never wrong"?
TITLE: "Motion to Deactivate" (formerly titled "Self-Defense Argument")
AUTHOR: "Matrix Refugee"
RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: Permission granted
FEEDBACK: Please? Please?
DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Animatrix: Second Renaissence, Part I", its characters, concepts, imagery or other indicia which belong to the Wachowski Brothers, RedPill Productions, Warner Brothers, et al. Nor do I own "A.I., Artificial Intelligence", its characters, settings, concepts or other indicia, which are the property of the late, great Stanley Kubrick, of DreamWorks SKG, Steven Spielberg, Warner Brothers, et al.
NOTES: Sorry it took me a while to get back to this one: I'm a little rusty about courtroom procedure, but watching the season premiere of "Law & Order" helped jog my memory. I also reread the article "The Rights of Robots", which is availible online and which my friend "Joshua Falken" sent me (Thanks, Joshua!); it's such a useful article that it actually helped inspire some of the content of this chapter.
Special thanks to Joshua and to "Time Lady Quasar" on the "A.I." fanfiction group on Yahoo! for their comments and encouragement, and to the folks who reviewed this:
To "Tarock": I have to be honest and say I too was horrified with the murder scene in "SR 1", a little bit too gory for my preferences, and while I support the idea of the creation of machine intelligence, I have to perfectly honest and say that one scene almost made me change my opinion back to my old phobia of robots, or what Isaac Asimov called "the Frankenstein Complex". And I'm writing this to reset my mind...
To "Cmdr. Gabe E": I personally found the B1-66-ER trial to be one of the most thought-provoking bits in "Second Renaissence", which prompted me to delve into it a little deeper, from several angles: the personal (Declan's viewpoint, as a person), the legal (Declan's again, as a lawyer, and Ms. Jen Te's view), the social, even how the media played a part in turning this seemingly insignificant case into something larger.
To "Ammi": Glad you saw the "shades of grey" in this story. I want it to be the kind of moral story where everyone is a little bit right and a little bit wrong.
* * * * * * * * *
Chapter 3 : Jury Selection
The main courtroom of the North Adams Superior Courthouse was a wide, high-ceilinged chamber, shadowy on this grey day, the wan daylight filtered through the small windows high up in the end walls of the room.
The press gallery was already crowded with reporters, photographers and cameramen. Varriteck's doing, Declan thought. He'd been gushing to the press ever since the case went to trial. Every night since then, the papers and the TV news and the 'Net bristled with items about the case: opinion pieces and recaps of other cases involving droids and Mechas, including one case involving a computer artilect put in charge of monitoring the life support machines of several terminally ill patients without their or their families' consent, acting out of a misappropriated sense of compassion.
But this was a qualitatively different case. This dorid had had little provocation and it had used main force to kill two weaker, unarmed people.
He refocussed on the press gallery. Frank Sweitz and Hal McGeever from the *Independent* were in the front row, the latter setting up a tripod. Sweitz looked up from jotting something on his pad and smiled toward Declan in acknowledgement. Declan nodded in discrete reply.
"Those the two guys from the *Independent*?" Glynnis asked in a low voice.
"Yes, that's them," Declan replied. At least there were two members of the press who'd give defense an unbiased representation to the reading public. Unfortunately, the fact that the press had been making a huge deal out of this case would make jury selection even harder. Findind twelve unbiased people might turn challenging.
Declan had submitted to the judge handling the case, Justice Mai-Ling Wendell, a requirement that the jurors selected should not have in droids or Mechas in their personal employ, or if they did that they had had only minimal difficulties with it. Ms. Te however, required that they should all utilize the service of artilects of some sort. One of the jurors she selected appeared to have a Mecha arm prosthesis: The skin of the man's left arm was much too shiny for it to be Orga flesh. Amazing that the same technology could be applied to Orgas as well, Declan thought.
"Your honor, I beg the pardon of the court, but there are only Orgas among these prospective jurors," Ms. Te stated at length.
Justice Wendell raised on quizzical eyebrow at Ms. Te. "Excuse me?"
Ms. Te approached the bench. "My client has the right to be tried by a jury of his peers. He is an artilect, but I see no artilects present here."
"Your honor, that's a noble idea, but it's a little impractical," Declan said.
"It's perfectly reasonable and Constituitional," Ms Te countered.
Justice Wendell raised her hands slightly for silence. "Ms. Te, I can't help agreeing with Mr. Martin: It's a little difficult to bring droids or computer-based intelligences here, and most Mechas lack the kind of global intelligence and judgement this situation requires."
"I have a portable device which I use to communicate with Kirin, my clerk," Ms. Te replied. "I can obtain one to communicate with Hammurabi, the artilect who now teaches at Harvard Law School."
"Would he qualify for this case?" Justic Wendell asked.
"It's a technologically awkward situation, but I believe he might," Declan said. A slight sense of flustered defeat settled in his chest, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell why.
Justice Wendell nodded. "Very well. Jury selection will resume tomorrow," then with a significant look at Ms. Te, "Providing that counsel for the defense can provide the necessary equipment."
"I assure you, your honor, that won't be difficult," Ms. Te replied.
* * * * * * * *
"Is that legal, an AI on a jury?" Sabrina asked Declan as he helped her wash the dishes.
"It is in the state of Massachusetts," Declan replied, wiping a plate in slow circles. "Hammurabi, who works as an assistant to Meyers, the criminal law professor at Harvard was on the jury in case in Worcester county a few years ago."
Sabrina eyed him sidelong, a twinkle in her eye. "You didn't study with him, did you?" she asked.
"No, I was before his time, though I spoke with him once or twice," Declan said.
"In that case, what's he like, I mean... does he really pass that test for AIs. Oh, what's the name?"
"He passes the Turing Test, if that's what you mean," Declan said. "I've communicated with him via an instant messaging program: it wasn't much different from conversing with a human the same way."
Sabrina's soft mouth tweaked into a mischevous smile. "Does that mean he follows the Red Sox enough to chat about their making the playoffs this year?"
"Surprisingly, yes," Declan said, returning the smile. "They designed him to be interested in more than just law: My question though is will the jury be comfortable enough with having him present via a telepresence device."
"The Supreme Court said you could use telepresence in the courtroom, didn't they some years back?"
"True, but that had mostly to do with ones that had an Orga on the other end of the transmission." Declan set the plate on the stack on the draining board and paused. "I was one of the people who welcomed the MIT Bill when it passed, but I always remind myself there's people who have trouble accepting it."
"At least their name isn't legion," Sabrina said.
Now Declan regarded her sidewise, feeling his brows gather slightly. "Trouble is, Damon Varriteck is one of that number. I'm just concerned what he's going to say if we happen to let this artilect onto the jury."
Sabrina took his chin in one soapy hand and turned his face to hers. "Is it Varriteck you're concerned about, or is it your own conscience?"
She'd seen through him to places he forgot were there. "I'm taking the Fifth."
"You won't imcriminate yourself with me," she said, letting him go. "The worst I can do is make you sleep on the couch."
"All right," he admitted. "I'm a little uncomfortable myself. It's a first for me, having an artilect on the jury. I'm not sure how to present the case now."
"Act as if it were a human communicating by telepresence."
"If you think about it, it's not all that simple," Declan said. "I can't help thinking is a day going to come when we have a robot on trial for killing another robot, represented by robot lawyers, before a robot jury and an artilect judge. Or could it happen that an Orga is tried, for killing an artilect, by a robot judiciary?"
Sabrina snorted, disgusted. "Get that Frankenstein's Complex out of your head. It's hardly likely to happen." She handed him another plate
"It's a mad world we live in," Declan said, taking the plate.
"You help keep it sane."
* * * * * * * *
He went up to his study to find Cecie there, printing out something -- which had started to take on the proportions of a high volume document.
"Jade, you'll use up the toner in no time," Declan said, trying to scold.
"You only just bought it," Cecie said.
"What's that you're printing?"
"News stuff off the 'Net," she said. "Articles, opinion things, letters to the editor. This could be a landmark case, this could be history."
He regarded the slowly growing pile of pages spooling out of the machine. "And the trial itself has hardly started," he murmured.
She looked right at him. "They say you're going to put an artilect on the jury."
"We're only considering it at this point," Declan said. "We have to process him *voir dire* like any other potential juror."
"I think you should let him be on the jury," she said. "Then there's someone who can understand perfectly where B1-66-ER is coming from."
"But that's not to say that an artilect on the jury won't be biased in favor of another of his kind. Besides," he countered. "Weren't you the one who said that teenagers should be allowed on juries?"
"*Only* if it's a case about another teenager," she retorted. "Like it's a teenager who's being accused of something awful he did to some middle-aged twerp. I think it's high time we had a say in how the legal system treats us."
He had to redirect her argumentation. He eyed the printouts. "Are all the papers giving out that misinformation?"
She dug in the stack and pulled out one. She held it up. "No, this one got it right."
"Artilect Juror Considered for B1-66-ER Trial". The byline underneath read "Francis J.X. Sweitz, staff reporter". Declan breathed a little easier.
* * * * * * * *
Next day, Ms. Te and an assistant set up on a chair in the courtroom a small telepresence device modified for the cirucumstances. Since Ms. Te had suggested this juror, Declan was allowed to examine him first.
He stood before the bluish-tinted camera lens mounted on top of the folding arm, in turn mounted on a box connected to a wireless 'Net connection. He looked straight into it, careful not to get too close: Ms Te had herself said that Hammurabi was far-sighted, the better to see evidence at a distance.
"Your name is Hammurabi?" Declan asked.
A brief pause. "Yes, that is correct. That is the name I chose," replied a calm, almost professorish male voice, coming from a speaker at the front of the box.
"You work for the Harvard School of Law as a professor's assistant, specializing in criminal law?"
"I do, Mr. Martin, though at the request of this court, I have taken time out from my schedule to assist at this trial however I can."
"Are you a personal acquaintence of the defendant, the victims, or their family or anyone else party to these proceedings?"
"No, sir, I am not, except that I am an acquaintence of Ms. Te. However, let me stress that our relationship is strictly professional."
"Have you read any news items or followed any televised news coverage such as opinions and commentary on this case and the events that led to it, which could bias your judgement in this case?"
"No sir, I have not. As a colleague of mine once said, "Opinions are like armpits: everyone has them and they all stink. However, as a computer-based artilect, I lack both."
A ripple of laughter rose from the other jurors and the members of the press. Even Justice Wendell covered her mouth with a discreet hand.
Declan smiled into the camera lens. "There's something to be said for that." Resuming the questioning, "Have you ever been under the influence of hypnosis?"
"I must inform and assure you, Mr. Martin, that I am unhypnotizeable," Hammurabi replied.
Declan looked at Ms. Te. "Is there anything comparable to hypnosis in artilects?"
"No," she said.
"In that case, prosecution admits Hammurabi as Juror 12," Declan said.
* * * * * * * *
On the courthouse steps, Declan and Glynnis had to pass through a fair-sized crowd of reporters and camera crews that had gathered there, in addition to the reporters that followed them.
"Mr. Martin!" -- "Can we ask you a few questions?" -- "Did you really admit the artilect to the jury?" -- "What effect do you think this will have on future trials involving AIs?" -- "Are machine intelligences really capable of assisting in due process?"
He gave only brief answers to the saner questions as he and Glynnis forged on through the press.
A taxicab had pulled up at the curb before the courthouse. Declan headed straight for it.
"Beastly reporters," Glynnis growled once they had crawled into the relative safety of the back.
The cabby glanced at them and gestured at the meter. "Where to?" he asked, his voice gruff in a gentle way. He was a quiet-looking non-descript man with a lightly tanned complexion.
"15 State Street," Declan said.
"Sure thing," the cabby said and steered the cab away from the curb, just as the reporters tried to approach them.
Declan remained moodily quiet through most of the trip. At length Glynnis turned to him. "You're un happy with letting Hammurabi onto the jury."
"I'm taking the Fifth on that one," Declan admitted. "I'm an older lawyer of the old school. I graduated from Harvard Law School before the MIT Bill passed. Granted, I've kept up with the times, but part of me is just set in its ways about these things."
"Don't let it get to you. We need old-timers like you to keep us in perspective," Glynnis said.
"This about the droid that killed them two people?" the cabby asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid," Declan admitted.
"Mind if I add my two coppers?" the cabby asked.
"Go ahead," Declan said.
"I been followin' this case an' I think I saw yuh pikchuh in th' pape'ah. You the prosecutuh?"
"I was assigned to this case," Declan said.
"I just wanna say I think y' doin' th' right thing with this, chief. He's an AI, so it's on'y fay'uh that an AI helps judge th' case. They c'n look at it from both angles. Maybe in the f'yootchah, AIs 'll handle the cases dealin' wit' AIs so the Orgas won't hafta break they'uh skulls over 'em. It'ud be labuh-savin'."
"Maybe," Delcan said. "But this case involves both Orgas and artilects. It has to go before an Orga judge and there have to be some Orgas on the jury."
"True, but say an AI kills another AI, whatcha gonna do then?"
"You're right if you mean artilect members of the legal system should handle some parts of such a case," Declan said as the cab pulled up before the office tower. "But I don't have to conside *that* kind of case just yet."
"Hopefully you won't ev'ah hafta," the cabby said.
Declan drew his wallet out of his pocket to pay the fare. He looked at the number on the meter and found he didn't have bills small enough and he had an odd feeling the cabby didn't have any change. "You take credit cards?" Declan ventured.
"Sure do," the cabby said, turning in his seat toward Declan.
Declan slid the card from his wallet. The cabby put one hand on the meter and extended his hand, the first fingers extended, slightly spread. Declan tried to hand him the card.
"Just swipe it through," the cabby said.
Declan slipped the card between the cabdriver's fingers and slid it back toward him. The cabdriver blinked once. The meter kicked over to zero.
"You have a good rest of y' day, Mr. Martin," the cabby said, sitting back.
* * * * * * * *
"I know I'm liable to be cussed out as a narrow-minded old fogey, but I'm gonna say it to you since you won't be the one doin' the cusssin'," Brock Thompson, the chief district attorney said, as he and Declan mulled over the days events over a couple pints in O'Faolin's pub in Westhillston. "But I think letting that artilect onto the jury was a poor move."
"I had my own misgivings, but I can't but agree with Ms. Te: the Varriteck droid has the right to be tried by a jury of his peers, and that includes an artilect. I can't think of anything in the Constitution that would forbid it."
Thompson narrowed his small dark eyes. "You're serious about this. How do you know that artilect won't be biased in favor of another of its kind."
Declan lifted one hand in a small shrug. "If we were trying a case with an African-American defendant, should we exclude an African-American juror? If the defendant was Jewish, should we exclude a juror with a like faith and heritage?" Declan said.
"Martin, those are substantially different reasons, and I mean that in substantially in two different ways."
"I don't see much difference," Declan said. "Ms. Te proposed the juror, and when I eaxmined him I felt he was qualified to serve on the jury."
"But what about the other twelve jurors? I can't see them feeling too cozy with. . . a machine placed alongside them in the jury box."
Declan wagged his head. "I've cleared it with them: they're familiar with telepresence devices."
"But there's no physical presence at the transmitting end!"
"Not a tangible one. But there *is* an intellect, a mind at the other end of that transmitter."
Thompson signalled to the waitress for their bill. "I hope you did the right thing, Martin. I've admitted to admiring you maverick qualities, but this is liable to give any sensible adult pause for concern. Just remember, opening statements are in two days. I hope you can explain to the public and the press why you let that machine into the jury box."
"I've already taken that up with the press," Declan said.
* * * * * * * *
When Declan checked his messages, that evening, he found yet another incendiary note from the anonymous "FleshWarrior":
From: fleshwarrior @ hotmail.com
To: declan_martin @ juno.com
Subject: No Mechas in the jurie!
ARE YOU OFF YOUR NUT, mARTIN?! !"
Droisd cant judegf other dorids. WE weote the lawas, the dorids didn't. We bulti 'em we cna judge 'em a brain of flesh cna judge nbetter than any brioan of metal.
UP FLESH! DOWN SILICON!
FleshWarrior
Declan forwarded the message immediately to Wilson and got up to turn in for the night.
* * * * * * * *
The next day, Wilson showed up at the office with another report on his progress finding out who was this "FleshWarrior".
"I called in an expert to track that nut who's sending you those wierd messages," Wilson said, twisting a paperclip in his fingertips.
"What kind of expert?" Declan asked.
"Guy can cut through a firewall like a hot knife through butter and break down anonymizing softs like a wrecking ball and not leave a trace. He's a real hack god, kinda ...grey hat, I guess. I'm gonna run it by him, see what he comes up with."
"Aything will help at this point," Declan said, allowing himself a small smile of relief and hope.
* * * * * * * *
To be continued...
* * * * * * * *
Literary Easter Eggs:
The Mecha arm prosthesis -- An homage to the roboticist at MIT who, on losing both his legs in an accident, built robotic leg prostheses for himself.
Kirin, Hammurabi -- A kirin in Japanese legend is a black unicorn which appears in courts of law to free the falsely accused and to destroy the wrongly acquitted. Hammurabi was a Sumerian king who devised one of the earliest known written codes of law.
The Boston Red Sox -- Life imitates art: the night I finished writing this chapter, right after I wrote these words, the Boston, Massachusetts professional baseball team scored a spot at the playoffs. "The Oracle is never wrong"?