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Chapter 234: Trade Offs
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"You make a convincing argument," said Themis, "there is, in fact, an allowance in the stated rules. Something of a loophole. However, I am not going to let you represent yourself just so that you can attend the sentencing hearing. Beyond the ethical concerns, I would never hear the end of it."
"But," said Danny.
Themis held up her hand. "I'm not done. I rather anticipated that you would do this. Therefore, I spoke to the all the others who have a say in the sentencing hearing, and they have agreed to let you and other character witnesses view the sentencing hearing, on one condition."
She slid a piece of paper across the table. Danny read it, and then showed it to the suffering Hemlock. "Is this legitimate?" he asked.
"Yes," said Hemlock.
"I don't remember this being in the rules," said Danny.
"There was a section for amendments," said Hemlock. "It's standard, but rarely used. Very rarely used. Did everyone really agree to this?"
"Except for you," confirmed Themis.
Danny looked at the paper. "I won't be able to leave until both trials are over," he said. "The one for my parents and the GIW one?"
Themis nodded. "Do not forget, you are our prince, now. Soon to be our king. We would all prefer it if you stayed somewhere safe for at least a little while."
"And I'll have to…" He frowned. "I've already agreed to this, though. Following the decision of the court, I mean."
"No," said Hemlock. "Check the phrasing. You are not just agreeing to follow the decisions about the sentencing of your parents, or about who gets custody of you. If you signed that, you would also be agreeing to follow certain decisions about yourself. Regarding how you follow those decisions. Regarding punishments for your parents that in some way include your disposition."
"Oh," said Danny.
"This is specifically something we fought against."
Danny bit his lip. "What kind of… directions are we talking about, here?"
"I thought you'd ask that," said Themis. "I put together a list of what I would be allowing."
Danny took in. It wasn't very long. "I—" started Danny. He thought about the results that would lead to any of these being used. He thought about the stress he had been under for so long. He thought about the circumstances he'd be under. The reality he'd have to live with.
He thought about how he might not get to see his parents again, after the hearings were over.
He thought about what it would be like, after the hearings, knowing he'd never see them again.
"I think," he said, slowly, deliberately, "I can live with this."
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"So," said Tucker as they walked across the lavender lawn, "Sojourn and Nephthys went to go check whether or not we've got a hole in reality, and… you're sulking because…?"
"Because I can't go take an army to go crush the GIW and investigate the hole in reality," said Danny.
"There's already an army crushing the GIW," said Tucker, "and seeing as they are checking out the hole… You realize that's irrational, right?"
"I know," said Danny, rolling over to scream into his pillow. The crown moved with him. "I think I'm having trouble with the whole absolute monarch thing."
"Well, you aren't completely absolute," said Jazz. "There are checks on your power. And it'll probably be a coin toss as to whether or not anyone really listens to you, overall."
"Thanks," said Danny. "What I mean to say is that I'm having trouble with the fact that I'm sort of responsible for everything, and also that I can delegate responsibilities."
"That's surprisingly self-aware of you, Danny," said Jazz.
Danny half-heartedly attempted to kick her. She danced out of the way and poked him with one of her yellow construct hands.
"How about you, Tucker? Any crises? Any existential dread?" Considering the content of her questions, she looked far too keen.
"Uh," said Tucker, "what?"
"I'm like 70% sure that I'm currently undergoing some kind of stress-fueled proto-Obsession breakdown and/or manic episode," said Jazz. "I've been trying to be chill about it, but, well!" She threw up all her hands. "What can you do? Anyway, it's fascinating to be in the middle of this, and I've taken lots of notes, but I know I'm not the most objective observer of myself, and I want to milk this for what it's worth as long as I've got the chance."
Tucker leaned away from Jazz. "I left for, like, two hours," he said. "To talk to my parents about Egypt and help Sam pack."
"I know," said Danny, "I was there."
"When did this happen?"
"Shortly after my conversation with Mom and Dad, most likely. Now they're psychologically interesting, but not in a way I can really bring myself to appreciate." Her grin looked painful on her face. "Like I've said, I've been trying to keep it on the down-low, so to speak."
"Oh my gosh, you sound like Lancer," said Tucker. "Stop."
"Never!" said Jazz, cackling. "And—Oops. That's too far, isn't it?" She coughed awkwardly. "But! You're the other member of my sample, currently."
"Sample of what?" asked Tucker, dreading the answer.
"Teenage part-ghost monarchs," said Jazz.
Yeah, Tucker regretted this already.
"Speaking of which, what was the decision about Egypt? Ghost Egypt? Kemet?" Danny tilted his head to one side. "What is the actual name of your country?"
"Well, it was Kemet," said Tucker, "but there's like… a dozen different Kemets in here, because of how long Pharaonic Egypt lasted, and, well… I don't think they ever picked an actual, Ghost Zone name. They just call it, um. Duulaman's Kemet."
"Oof," said Danny. "That's sure something."
"Yeah," said Tucker. He rubbed his eyes and debated whether or not he should ask this. "Incidentally, you haven't noticed Nocturne messing with me while I'm asleep, have you?"
"No," said Danny, instantly concerned. "Why?"
"Just… weird dreams. I guess. Egypt dreams. I would like to ask if that was normal, but I don't exactly know anyone else who's reincarnated."
"If it's a dream thing Nocturne might know," said Danny, shrugging. "But, you know, Nephthys might be the better bet. Death and Change." He made a face. "Of course, she'll probably mess with you, first. She's high-key a trickster mentor."
"At least Dan is having fun," said Jazz. "By the way, do you think it's possible for you to make Ellie and Damien in charge of something? Something large? Like, a good-sized floating island. A Realm, perhaps? With subjects, that's important."
"I'm so glad you aren't testifying today," said Danny. "Just, so glad."
"What even is today," said Tucker. "When was the last time we properly slept? We've just been snatching naps. That can't be healthy."
"I think I got an hour between when I got Nephthys to do the letter and when she sent Sam on," said Danny. "And then another two because they made me, and then left me." He started grumbling.
"Dude," said Tucker. "Let it go."
"I can't! What if they get hurt?"
"They are extremely unlikely to get hurt," said Tucker, as they reached the crowd trying to gain entry to the courtroom. "Like, even if you got in a serious fight with one of them, could you hurt them?"
Danny fell silent, thinking.
"Yeah," he said, as they found their places. "I probably could."
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"Shouldn't there be a different jury for this?" asked Connie as they prepared to enter the courtroom again. "I mean, we're the ones that said they were guilty. Aren't we biased?"
"We were chosen because we are relatively unbiased," said Ryu.
"Yes," said Connie, "but that was before we convicted them. We've decided they're guilty! Shouldn't that mean we don't get to sentence them, too? Actually, shouldn't it be the judge sentencing them?"
"Hm," said Mrs. Ormolu, "the Judge does appear to be the one doing the actual sentencing. We're here to provide recommendations. Human perspective. I mean, look at some of these punishments. They're not really… hm. Survivable. In some case. In others, one might wonder why they're even considered a punishment. Perhaps for ghosts they are, but not for humans."
"And we're the other balance," said Mrs. Holiday, her eyes shinning dully. "To make sure the suggestions aren't too… lenient."
Connie was mostly comfortable with her fellow jurors at this point, but even so, sometimes the ghosts still freaked her out. They looked far too predatory right now.
"Besides," said the Dairy King, "we already have a lot of the information, dontcha know? Other people would have to go through all that all over again!"
"I guess," said Connie, still feeling uncomfortable.
The Lunch Lady patted Connie on the shoulder (and wasn't that weird as all heck). "When you are COOKING a LARGE MEAL by YOURSELF, it is best to make sure things are CONVENIENTLY PLACED."
Then she walked to the door.
"I have no idea what that means," whispered Connie.
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"… genuinely tried to understand what Danny was going through, from what we heard," Maurice Foley was saying. "Maddie and Angela were on the phone all the time. I know we tried to figure out what was happening with Tucker—Obviously it wasn't as much, and it wasn't the same, but we knew it had to be connected to whatever Danny was going through, and we never figured it out, either, not even that Tucker was going out to fight ghosts. So… I don't think you can really blame them for that."
"This is going well," whispered Danny to Tucker. "Don't you think?"
"Yeah," said Tucker. "I never realized how much grief I gave Mom and Dad, though."
"Yeah," agreed Danny, looking at his own parents. He licked his lips and turned his gaze to the jury. Hemlock was going for the remorse angle, mostly. Danny knew his parents felt bad. He knew they loved him and never meant to hurt him. He just hoped the jury would understand that.
Angela testified next. Then Vlad.
"It always came from the Fenton side, I'm afraid," said Vlad. "Back when we were in college, Jack was so radical, so forceful about his beliefs. The Fentons were always against the supernatural, even hundreds of years ago. Why, during an encounter with a transient natural portal, I encountered one of Jack's ancestors. Horrible man. A witch hunter! Danie—"
Danny watched with some amusement as Vlad caught himself. Danny had requested that he be called Danny in the trial, after all. To call him something else without there being a formally recognized relationship between them would be considered a serious breach of etiquette. It didn't exactly lessen the sickening impact of what Vlad was saying, but it helped him deal with it.
"Danny's friend, Sam, was almost killed by him." Vlad shook his head. "Jack had the same opinions. I always thought they were a little extreme, but, well, even if believed in ghosts, I had never truly encountered one until my own brush with death and acquisition of liminality." He pressed his hand to his face. "Jack—Jack radicalized Maddie. I believe that, removed from his influence, Maddie will be able to be fully rehabilitated."
Danny was actually a little impressed Vlad could say all that truthfully.
"So," said Vlad's advocate, "you believe they should be sentenced separately?"
"Yes, I do. Furthermore, I believe that even if they receive the same sentences, those sentences should be carried out in different locations."
"You are also of the opinion that you should be one of the ones to oversee their punishment."
"Well, of course," said Vlad. "I am one of the few who needs make no adjustments to his residence to accommodate living humans, after all."
Vlad's advocate asked him a few more softball questions. Danny almost felt bad when Azalea took his place, her smile sharp and her bees buzzing.
"Mr. Plasmius," she said, "would you please tell us about the time you tried to trap Danny and Maddie at your Colorado estate and convince Maddie to divorce Jack?"
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"We will now recess for twelve hours," said Themis, tapping her gavel on her desk. "I expect all humans and part humans—" she did not look at Danny, but he knew she was referring primarily to him "—to spend at least eight of them sleeping."
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The president read the letter again.
"Please, sir, go to sleep," said a hapless aide. "You've been awake for days."
"But," said the president, "they sent me a letter. A letter. What am I even supposed to do with this? How am I supposed to reply? They just dropped it on my desk. How did they do that?"
"They can fly through walls, sir," said the aide, "and turn invisible."
Both of these were facts the Secret Service was unhappy about. Especially given the arrival of the letter.
"I need to decide—I just—I can't believe this!" The president threw his arms up. "I'm trying to figure out how to open diplomatic relations with the afterlife. The apparently monarchical afterlife. Which has sent an army onto US soil. Because we were funding a bunch of lunatics who attacked them. And apparently the lunatics tried to do something that would have broken the universe. I'm not sure I believe that entirely, but what do I know? It's been thoroughly established that I know nothing." The president paused to stare at the ceiling. "You know, I used to make fun of the last president for saying he didn't know about something big that happened on his watch. Everything's too big. You can't know everything. I didn't know about the freaking afterlife." He made a sound of suffering. "How am I supposed to respond to a letter from the Prince of the Infinite Realms?"
"Maybe," said the aide, desperately, "you should sleep on it."
