Where could he be? Justice Jane Stewart adjusted her dorky black glasses
on her gentle face and brushed her bangs from her eyes as she reviewed
the file in her hand for a third time.
The seventeenth day of the month of the Lamb, near Samuel Forest, just
outside Fiber City, Belier. Sixth step of Rael. She looked around to see the sordid
remains of the heavily deforested region that had once been Samuel Forest. The
location was right. The presence of the adverse parties, as well as the jury,
confirmed it.
She looked at her watch. It was already half a step passed midday.
He’s late. Could he have gotten lost?
In high-profile cases such as this, a Justice of the Peace would sometimes
request the trial be held at the scene of the crime in order to help the jury
understand certain key factors about the case. Jane specifically chose this
location in order that they might see the devastation the defense’s actions had
wrought to the trees, the animals, and the land itself. She hoped they’d be moved
to side with her against the adverse party.
However, none of her careful tactics would work unless the judge arrived
soon to administer the proceedings.
And I can’t do it without you, Dean.
The advocates for the defense began whispering amongst themselves.
“Is everything set?” asked the one.
“Yes,” said the other, “It’s been arranged, just as we planned. All we have
to do is wait for the trial to finish before we make our move.”
“That may not be necessary,” said the first, in a sinister insinuation, “At
this rate, there might not even be a trial. The other judge isn’t even here yet.”
“It’s not like they need two Justices to try a case, right?”
“No, but that was the agreement and it’s at our discretion whether we
exercise our rights or not. We both know our clients are guilty as hell, so we’d
be fools not to press any advantage we can.”
“In that case, let’s hope he never shows. Then we won’t even have to get
our hands dirty. We can just stand on our right to a speedy trial, motion for
dismissal, and since he’s not here, we would enter into default judgment and
estoppel. If that happens, the Department of Justice won’t be able to try this case
again because of the provision against double jeopardy.”
“That would certainly be an embarrassment for one of Severa’s top
prosecutors.”
“Just think how disappointed she’ll be to see all her hard work wasted
because her partner couldn’t be bothered to show up on time.”
The two shady lawyers cackled and snickered amongst themselves.
“We’ll give him a few more minutes before we move to dismiss,” said the
one, “Just so we can say we were gracious and thereby avoid drawing any
suspicion to ourselves.”
Jane’s slender calloused hands began to shake with anxiety.
Come on, Dean. Where are you?
She gripped the curved hilt of the two-handed hunting saber at her side in
an effort to calm her nerves. Her heart pounded. She closed her doe brown eyes
and took a deep breath. Judge or no judge, she could not stand idly by any longer.
It was still possible to stall for time by going over preliminaries.
“I guess we’ll get started,” Jane declared, the tinge of an Ionian accent still
lingered in her voice from her days in finishing school as a child abroad.
She turned to her clerk and said, “Hanji, summon Adaiah.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hanji replied.
The young black-haired clerk grabbed the pendant around his neck with
his left hand and drew his quillon dagger from its sheath with his right. He held
the blade out in front of him with the tip pointed down, like an ice pick. This
position would allow him to draw energy out from the weapon and, in this case,
summon Adaiah.
“Arcesso!” he shouted.
Sparks of electricity and light surrounded his short, frail body as a surge
of unseen energy traveled from the dagger, up his right arm, through his stomach,
down his left arm, into his Thelema, through his heart, along his spine, and out
the top of his head, before finally discharging into the sky.
The energy body’s meridian path, through which one’s chi flowed.
A creature the size of the blade emerged from the disc at the hilt and floated
in midair just above it. She looked like a short, slender black bear with white
tufts of fur on her elbows, knees, paws, and ears. She had a long, thin prehensile
tail that ended in a white ball of fluff, as well as a pair of velvet-covered wings.
Her name was Adaiah and she was a Notary. Every Justice had one by operation
of law, though it usually fell to the Justice’s clerk to manage them.
The Notary’s sole job was to take in everything that transpired around
them and retain it with perfect memory for later use. The testimony of a Notary
was held as self-evident, legally treated as indisputable fact; and for this reason,
they made excellent record keepers.
“Adaiah,” Jane commanded, “Begin recording.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Adaiah replied in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. Her eyes
flashed white and a pale blue glow enveloped her. From that point onward, she
would remember everything that happened to Jane and Hanji until she exited the
trance.
Hanji returned his knife to its sheath. Beyond being the indenture that
bound Adaiah’s soul to the world, it could still serve as a weapon like any other.
“Clerk, call the roll,” Jane ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Hanji. He cleared his throat and turned to the restless
crowd that had gathered in the clear-cut forest to watch the trial. “Are the
advocates for Bunyan Logging and Blue Ox Shipping here?”
“Here.” They said.
“Kindly step forward and present your indentures.”
They did as they were instructed. A man in a dark suit emerged from the
crowd and held up a small statue carved to look like a beaver wielding an axe
and wearing a flannel shirt with overalls and large boots. A lawyerly woman
also emerged from the crowd and held up a similar totem that looked like a
Minotaur with a ring piercing its nose and a yoke around its neck. These were
the indentures of the juristic persons of their respective companies.
Hanji squatted down in front of them. This time, he gripped his Thelema
with his right hand and placed his left hand on the ground in front of them.
“Infero!” he shouted.
The same light as before surrounded him. A surge of energy traveled from
the ground, up his legs, along his spine, through his heart, into his Thelema, along
his right arm, through his stomach, down his left arm, out his hand, and back into
the ground before discharging. A pair of glowing red seals, about the size of
Hanji’s hand, appeared. Each seal consisted of two squares offset by forty-five
degrees so as to form an eight-pointed star and inscribed in a circle, with a smaller
circle inscribed inside both of them. Centered within each of the triangles formed
by the overlapping squares was an elegant sigil depicting one of the eight
heavenly bodies.
Having completed the seals, Hanji withdrew his hand and stood up.
“Please place your indentures into the summoning circles,” he said.
The two advocates set their totems on the ground within the seals and then
stepped back. Hanji stretched out his arm towards them.
“Ligo!” he shouted.
The seals began to glow more intensely as a wall of light rose up to
surround the statues, binding them in place.
“All set,” said Hanji.
“Good,” Jane declared.
Such formal protocols as these aren’t strictly necessary, but they at least
help me buy time.
Jane grabbed her Thelema pendant with her right hand and held out her
left hand towards the two indentures. For anyone who was right-handed, this
position would have allowed them to emit energy from their left hand; but
because Jane was left-handed, the flow of chi through her meridians was
reversed, and so it would yield the opposite effect. Thus, she used it to draw
energy out of them the way Hanji had summoned Adaiah.
“All rise!” she commanded.
Her petite warrior body lit up in a bright aura much like Hanji’s did, only
more intensely. The seals around the statuettes erupted in a flash of electricity
and light. Two towering creatures slowly emerged from the indentures. Each
measured about eight to nine meters tall. Their appearance conformed to the
likenesses of their totems – an axe-wielding beaver and a burly, blue Minotaur.
These were the juristic persons of Bunyan Logging and Blue Ox Shipping in their
living, breathing forms.
They were also the principle defendants in this case.
Jane released her pendant, letting it fall against her chest.
Now we just need to wait for Dean to show up.
As if on cue, the rumbling of an engine crescendoed like rolling thunder
as Justice Dean Maynard came riding over the hill on his motorcycle. He parked
the vehicle under a tree away from the action and walked towards the group
without any sense of urgency at all. He marched with the confident poise of a
medieval knight having just dismounted from his trusted steed. His hooded black
cloak and the bastard sword hanging from his side only served to reinforce the
image. He wore his weapon with pride, like a badge of honor, for indeed a
Justice’s sword was a badge of their authority.
A modern rendition of the classic priestly robes, the uniform of a Justice
of the Peace consisted of a simple, yet elegant frock jacket and matching pants,
both black with elaborate gold trim around the edges. The jacket was designed
so that it could be worn over a judge’s regular shirt or blouse and provided a thin
layer of padded protection. A Justice’s duties to give chase and to engage in
combat were also taken into consideration, with most choosing to wear leather
boots of some kind as opposed to dress shoes.
Slight variations in the overall attire existed between male and female, and
also between members of the same sex, depending on season, climate, and the
need for mobility, with some parts being cut longer or shorter than others, but all
falling under the same general style. The idea, in the minds of the outfit’s
designers, was that anyone could look upon a Justice of the Peace and recognize
them instantly as such. This was not merely decorative, but practical as well in
that a Justice served as a symbol of authority among the people out in the real
world.
The uniform also came with a cloak, which had a variety of subtle features,
such as earbuds, a visor, and an inflatable pillow all sewn into the hood for long-
distance trips.
A Justice’s cloak was usually black with gold trim as well, though in more
recent times, some latitude was given to tailor its interior to the judge’s personal
preference and to help distinguish them from one another. The interior of Dean’s
cloak was a cobalt blue that matched his deep-set eyes, while Justice Stewart’s
was a deep red-violet that paired well with her long, chestnut brown hair.
Jane felt relieved to see Justice Maynard finally arrive. Her opponents
were less than thrilled.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Dean nonchalantly, “I’m afraid my clerk was
nowhere to be found this morning. We’ll just have to start without him.”
“We’ve already started, Your Honor,” Jane said curtly.
Dean sulked in disappointed. “Aw, man, really? Well, in that case ...”
He grabbed his Thelema with his right hand and knelt down on the ground,
touching the earth with his left hand.
“Saepio!” he shouted.
His body lit up even more intensely than Jane’s had. A thin wall of blue
light stretched out from behind him and carved a path in an enormous arc around
him. It continued outward, encircling Jane, Hanji, the jury, the juristic persons,
their agents, and the other officers and onlookers who were present for the trial, before eventually closing in on itself. All told, it formed a giant hemispherical dome, some fifty meters in diameter around them, isolating the group from the outside world. This was Dean’s Chambers. Its purpose was to prevent interference with the trial and all Justices were given discretion on when they could invoke such a power. Once erected, however, no one and nothing could enter or leave the area without the consent of its creator.
Dean slowly stood back up and released