"Get ahold of yourself!" Miles yelled at Phoenix in the plaintiffs lobby. "You can't assault a defense attorney! Any rights you win today will be moot from inside a prison cell!"
"He said I was using Trucy!" Phoenix yelled back.
"Who cares what he says? Anyone who matters knows you're not!"
"It's not just that; it's everything that's happened today!" Phoenix deflated under Miles's glare. "It's like an impossible test," he continued more quietly. "Regardless what the witnesses say, Payne makes up an explanation about how it doesn't prove anything, and it's my word against his! The threshold keeps moving!"
Miles nodded. "You're facing a modern-day Wilson test."
"A what?"
"Honestly, daddy," Trucy sighed. "Back in the early days of machinery, legendary inventor Iris Wilson came up with a test. It was said that if a machine could ever convince someone that it was human, that's proof machines can really think like people!"
"Did any machine ever pass?" Phoenix asked doubtfully.
Miles shook his head. "Here's the catch. People quickly became quite skilled at verbally ensnaring machines. They'd ask questions such as How many legs does a centipede have? and How many legs does Nessie have? Simple and similar questions where context changes everything. Questions machines didn't have the capacity to understand."
"But that's. . . ridiculous!" Phoenix sputtered. "Human conversations aren't about quizzing each other on animal facts. Even if it answered about Nessie's legs, that's not acting like a human at all!"
"You don't have to convince me! Payne's asking you to clear an absurd bar. But we have to keep trying!" Miles ground his teeth defiantly. "We aren't getting anywhere with calling witnesses on your behalf," he growled. "We've been going in circles. No. What we need is the testimony of—"
- O -
"For its next witness, the prosecution calls. . . the subject himself!" Back in the courtroom, Miles pointed dramatically at Phoenix. "Mr. Phoenix Wright! Please take the witness stand!"
"Me?" gasped Phoenix.
"Objection!" screeched Payne. "Mr. Wright will say anything the prosecution has primed him to!"
"Objection!" countered Miles, pounding a fist on his desk. "That could be said for any witness! It's up to you to ask for clarification during cross-examination!" Miles turned to the judge. "Your honor, the court has questioned a parrot before. Surely an android as witness is nothing new."
"I concur, Mr. Wright may speak, and then the defense may cross-examine. Objection overruled," the judge said.
"Witness, state your name and occupation!"
". . . . . ." Phoenix stood frozen on the stand, seemingly searching for words.
"Witness!" Miles repeated, slamming the desk.
"Oh! Um. . . I'm Phoenix Wright. Defense attorney, android, and. . . maybe a person."
"You don't sound very sure about that," the judge remarked.
"I'm not anymore," Phoenix admitted.
"Phoenix—" Miles started to say.
"Everything Mr. Payne's said. . . there's always some explanation. . . maybe it's all just states on a hard drive—"
"Wright!" Miles burst out, startling Phoenix from his spiraling thoughts. "Have you forgotten? We are in the courtroom!" He exhaled, then continued in ringing tones. "Simply give the court your honest testimony, and we will find the truth. Together."
"Mil—Edgeworth. You're not facing me this time, you're facing, him." Phoenix grimaced as he nodded towards Payne.
"Yet you're here, right? Wright?"
Despite himself, Phoenix cracked a small smile. He took a deep breath, then pulled himself straight. "Right," he answered.
"Ahem." The judge cleared his throat. "What do you want Mr. Wright to testify about?"
"Well. . . ergo. . . verily. . . ." Miles cast his mind around wildly. Not loyalty, not emotion, not responsibility. . . none of those seemed to get at the heart of the matter.
Ah. A slow smile spread over Miles's face. "The prosecution asks the witness to testify about why he wishes to marry."
Witness Testimony - The Wright Reasons
Well. . . I guess I want to marry Miles because. . . we've been through a lot together.
We've helped each other through some pretty tough situations.
And yeah, we haven't always been great at communicating, but we understand each other now.
Just being with him fills me with happiness and inspiration.
He's my other half and the one I want to spend my life with.
"Ahh, to be young and in love," the judge sighed.
"Perhaps you'd best withhold judgement until after the cross-examination," Payne said.
"Alright. Your cross-examination please."
"Well. . . I guess I want to marry Miles because. . . we've been through a lot together," Phoenix began.
"Hold it! Please elaborate on your history together," Payne demanded.
"Objection! He's getting to that!" Miles protested.
"Objection sustained," ruled the judge.
"We've helped each other through some pretty tough situations," Phoenix continued.
"Now will you describe these so-called situations?" Payne prompted.
"Well, he stood up for me in fourth grade. . . then I proved him innocent of murder. . . then he helped me save Maya and Iris. . . ."
"So you think indebtedness is a foundation for love. Interesting."
"Gaaah! No!" Phoenix exclaimed, sweating furiously.
"Do go on," Payne sneered.
"And yeah, we haven't always been great at communicating, but we understand each other now."
"Do you struggle to communicate in general, or are you thinking of a specific incident?" Payne asked, fully knowing the painful answer.
"I—yeah. It was when he wrote. . . that note."
"And what makes you so sure your situation has changed?"
"I. . . I know he wouldn't do that again."
"That sounds an awful lot like wishful thinking, Mr. Wright."
"Objection!" Miles chimed in. "I fail to see how this is relevant!"
"We're simply establishing the communication struggles between a person and an android," Payne cruelly replied.
"Just being with him fills me with happiness and inspiration," Phoenix insisted, his voice edging on desperation.
"Aww, how touching. . . if what you say is true. Do you have any evidence to support that claim?"
"My. . . my attorneys badge! Miles inspired me to retake the bar!" Phoenix triumphantly held up the badge.
"The court accepts the badge into evidence," the judge pronounced.
"I see. So Mr. Edgeworth instructed you to retake the bar, and you did. That's very obedient of you," Payne replied.
"Whaaat? That's not it at all!"
"These are simply your own assertions. Continue."
"He's my other half and the one I want to spend my life with," Phoenix finished, despairing.
"And does that describe love. . . or codependency?" Payne retorted.
"Objection! The defense is leading the witness!" Miles burst out.
"Whatever you say. I think I've made my point," Payne shrugged.
Silence filled the courtroom. Miles's fingers twitched towards his elbow, and Trucy chewed her lip. Phoenix clenched his fists.
"It seems that Mr. Wright has no satisfactory explanation here," Payne taunted. "Everything he's said boils down to single-minded, robotic dependency. He has no concept of higher-order, human emotions such as love."
"No!" Miles gasped. "He told you what he feels, without contradiction!"
Payne shook his head. "His testimony may be without contradiction, but it is also inconclusive."
The judge nodded. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wright, but my patience is wearing thin. Is there anything else you wish to say to the court? Be warned that any irrelevant outbursts will incur a penalty."
"I. . . I enjoy spending time with him," Phoenix tried.
"That can be said for friends as well. People don't marry every person whose company they enjoy," Payne replied.
"He's my family! Trucy—my daughter loves him!"
"Your daughter is not the one marrying him."
"We solve cases together! We couldn't find the truth without each other!"
"Oh, now you're equating a coworker relationship to a marriage?"
"I—I can't live without him!"
"More codependency."
"Nooooo!" Phoenix spluttered. The penalties were piling up. He was one wrong answer away from losing, he could feel it. "I love him!" he burst out in desperation.
"Yes, you've said as much, which brings us back to the starting point. Please explain. You can't prove to the court that you do!"
"I. . . I don't know. . . ." Phoenix sank to his knees and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, wracking his brains for anything, any shred of an answer that might stick. Payne's asking you to clear an absurd bar, Miles had said.
"Objection—" Miles began.
"Overruled," the judge said without hesitation. "Mr. Edgeworth, I can tell from your face that you have nothing prepared!"
"Daddy!" Trucy called from the gallery. "Daddy, don't give up! I know you can turn it around!"
"I can't," Phoenix whispered, dazed. It's impossible. . . .
"The court is waiting," the judge said into the deafening silence. "You have one more chance. Is there anything else you wish to say to the court?"
(It's like an impossible test.)
(Even if I answered, that's not acting like a human at all.)
(. . . . . .)
". . . No." Phoenix said, quietly but firmly.
"Whaaaat?!" Miles flinched, Trucy gasped, and the gallery rustled.
Phoenix slammed both hands down on the bench. "I'm not proving my feelings because. . . that's nobody's business but ours! Mr. Payne" —he pointed furiously at the defense— "would never ask such an intrusive question of another person! And like any other person, I refuse to answer it!"
"That's. . . that's absurd!" yelled Payne.
"I'm not finished! Even humans can't prove their love to each other! The only way to enter into a marriage is with trust!"
"Objection!" screeched Payne. "This is not an ordinary circumstance. Witnesses in court must give testimony—"
"Objection!" Miles countered. "On relevant matters! As you yourself said, tests of love are not required in marriages between humans! The only question that matters is whether Mr. Wright possesses the mental capacity to understand and consent!"
"Objection!" Payne fired back. "Genuine emotion is a necessary part of of understanding a marriage."
"Objection!" Miles replied. "So-called genuine emotion has never been a requirement in the eyes of the law. Historically, marriages arranged by the applicants' parents was commonplace, and even today, platonic and aromantic marriages are fully valid! Or are you proposing to annul thousands of unions across Japanifornia?"
"I. . . nooooo!" Payne shielded his face, the force of Miles's objection sending his wig flying.
"Your honor," Miles continued. "I daresay that Mr. Wright's refusal shows an excellent grasp of the subtleties of human experience."
"I concur," said the judge. "I believe we can finally hand down a verdict—"
"Wait, your honor," Payne interrupted. "I have one final question to ask the prosecution. Mr. Edgeworth, after all is said and done, you will take that android to be your husband, without a shred of evidence of his feelings?"
"I trust him," Miles answered simply, "and I believe in him." He turned towards Phoenix as he spoke and took his hand. "Yes, I take that man to be my husband."
"And does the plaintiff, Mr. Wright, take Mr. Edgeworth to be his husband as well?" the judge asked.
"Miles," Phoenix breathed. "Yes. I do."
"Then by the power vested in me, this court finds the plaintiff, Mr. Phoenix Wright, is a. . . ."
MARRIED PERSON.
"Congratulations, Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright. Court is adjourned," the judge finished.
Laughing, Phoenix grabbed Miles and pulled him down the aisle, through the fluttering confetti, past the cheering audience, and out the courtroom doors.
- O -
Author's notes: the "Iris Wilson" test is just the Turing test :)