Jack Chalker - Cerberus - A Wolf in the Fold

“Well, it’s over,” she sighed.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“They’ve been laying for me, Qwin. Laying for me for, I guess, five years. They didn’t like the fact that I wormed my way out of the motherhood, so they’ve been waiting for a chance to get me. A clerk in the office—one I know, one who’s worked there almost as long as I have—was a plant. They had something on her. An old criminal conviction or something, and she was too low in skill level to be considered vital. She had to catch me or when she reached the mandatory age it was the mines for her.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Five years?”

She nodded. “They needed an example. There’s been a lot of rumblings in the motherhood since I sneaked out. I was their symbol of hope—and I knew it. The authorities had to get me, no matter how long it took. They said their psychological profiles indicated I’d do exactly what I did sooner or later, and they were sure right.”

“What happens now?” I asked her, both concerned and mad as hell at a system that would wait this long to hang somebody.

“Judgment,” she told me. “The witness, the cops, and the scans proved their case automatically.”

My mind was racing. “Who sentences you? What kind of rank?”

“A professional judgment panel. Thirteen of them. I’m scheduled to meet them in a little less than an hour. They don’t usually hold proceedings this late, but they’re making a special case for me.”

I thought of all the men in high places I knew. “Is there someone I can call? Someone who can intercede?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Maybe after, but not now. We don’t even know what the sentence is yet—could be almost anything. All I know is that it was planned and directed years ago.” She looked up at me.

“Don’t blame yourself! I did it, all of my own free will. I’m totally responsible.”

“I let you do it.”

She smiled, a ghost of that old smile. “You couldn’t have stopped me and you know it.”

“Will they let me in? Will they hear any mitigating statements?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

We waited together nervously until they called her name.

The judgment chamber was much like any other courtroom except for the thirteen black-robed men and women up there behind a curved table. Since only one had a mike, it was clear that there was a presiding officer. They let me in and I took a seat, noting Sanda in a chair forward of the rest of the seats, which were empty. Sanda looked as if she’d been crying a little, or maybe a lot, but she seemed composed now.

“The State versus Dylan Zhang Kohl,” intoned the chief judge, as if there were other cases. “Will the prisoner please rise and approach the bench?”

Dylan stood up and confidently did as she was told, looking the chief judge right in the eye. Good for you, gal! I thought.

“Dylan Zhang Kohl, you have been found guilty on the evidence which we have judged to be true and incontrovertible that you did willfully and knowingly violate Section 623 Vi, Cerberan Universal Penal Code. Can you find any reason for sentence to be deferred or mitigated?”

“No, your honor,” she said firmly.

I cursed and fidgeted like mad in my seat. Twice in one day I felt real fear, and twice in one day a total sense of helplessness.

“Will Sanda Tyne approach the bench?”

Sanda, looking tiny and nervous, did so, standing next to Dylan. I saw that Dylan took Sanda’s hand and squeezed it affectionately, as if to reassure her.

“Sanda Tyne, we find that you did knowingly and willfully violate the Articles of Syndication applicable to Akeba House. This we have judged true and incontrovertible on the evidence. Can you find any reason for sentence to be deferred or mitigated?”

“I talked her into it,” she pleaded bravely. “I kept after her and after her. It’s all my fault!”

“We have considered all the factors involved, including having both your psychological profiles analyzed completely. One of the principal articles of the code, particularly considering the past history of this planet and many of its founding parents, is that the criminal act is not something to be judged in and of itself, but in the context of society. One can, for example, go into one of the private banks and plead for a thousand units, without credit, collateral, or any obvious means of payback. If the bank then gives you the loan anyway, and you default, it is not your responsibility but the bank’s. Now, say you desperately needed the money, for a matter of life and death, and you conveyed this to a bank officer. The officer is sympathetic but should deny your loan because it would injure his employer, and therefore his depositors, and therefore the state. Everyone who had deposits in good faith at that bank would pay for his error.

“But let us suppose that his heart was touched by your plea, and he then arranged for you to get to a console so that you could steal the money. You are desperate, and you do so, thereby committing a criminal act. But who is truly committing the more serious crime? The one who steals, or the one who allows and arranges for the person to steal? This court recognizes this principle, so enshrined in our laws and principles, and in that context applies it to judgment in this case. Examining your psychological profile, we find you, Sanda Tyne, to be a secondary party to this violation, as you did not stow away on the boat or enter it without the permission of its captain.

“This court has studied both your records and has arrived at what we believe is a fair and just verdict. It is the sentence of this court that the two of you exchange bodies by means of judgment, and so be locked into those bodies. We further hold that you, Dylan Kohl, will assume the responsibilities of the Tyne body and are therefore not to assume your former position or take any other employ. In view of your psychological profile we further direct that you be taken after judgment to the Borough of Medlams Public Psychology Section and undergo a series of specific treatments to be set by this court for yours and the public’s good.”

I jumped up. “You’re not going to turn my wife into a vegetable!” I screamed.

The judge paused, and all thirteen gave me the dirtiest looks I ever got from anybody. Well, you’ve blown it now, I told myself, but I didn’t care any more.

“You are the spouse of the prisoner Dylan Kohl?”

“Yes, I am, and—”

“Silence! Or I will have you removed and charged!” He paused for a moment to see if I would take the challenge, but I got back a little of my self-control and managed to hold on for a moment.

“Now, then,” the judge continued, sounding deliberative but satisfied, “let me state to you, sir, that the days of such things, except in extreme cases, are past. For your benefit, I will outline and explain what we mean.”

“Please,” I almost begged, shaking a little.

“We believe that the profile of Dylan Kohl indicates a possibility of suicide. We will prevent that, as well as other acts possibly harmful to herself or to others. Everything we do will be in the nature of protections such as that or compulsion to ensure that the sentence is carried out. Her memory, personality, and general freedom of movement will not be impaired, since to do anything else would not be a punishment at all. Does this satisfy you?”

It didn’t, but what could I say? Well, there was always one thing, while, I had the judge’s ear. “Your honor, we are married and we truly love each other. Could she not continue to live with me? Even with her other occupation, she knows my business better than I do and could make a contribution to its management without costing the company or the state anything. It would be a shame to waste this expertise.”