2
“Remember, no arguing. I don’t care what the judge gives you. Just shut up.”
“You don’t think the judge will give me jail time?” Rev asked his stepdad.
“Serve you right if he does.”
“Really?” Rev asked, a touch of panic in his voice. “But what about the guild? I can’t miss my swearing-in.”
“Relax. It’s a traffic violation. A fine—which you’re going to pay me back—and a loss of your license. You’ve never been arrested, and you’ve got your volunteer work with the Youth Corps. That should make a difference. Come here,” his stepdad said, straightening out the cravat around his neck. “Try and look civilized.” It was a small gesture, but important. Max didn’t have to be a father to Rev, but he’d taken on the job without complaint. Sometimes, in little ways, his caring shone through. Like now.
Rev scowled, but he left the bright blue cravat in place. He hadn’t worn one since his primary school graduation, but it made sense to put out a good impression.
“Let’s go in, son.”
Max had been surprisingly understanding—unlike Rev’s mom, who had railed against Rev’s “untamed ways.” With the Gazelle impounded, he’d driven a rentsled to take custody of Rev that night, and he hadn’t said a word on the ride home. It wasn’t until the next day that he asked what happened.
He’d shaken his head and called Rev stupid, but he immediately got on the quantphone. Probably to one of the guild lawyers. The lawyer called back a few minutes later, and Max sighed in relief.
“All they have you for is the driving on manual after hours. You dodged a big one there, Rev. Nothing about fighting.”
Rev had somehow forgotten about that.
“You see the judge on Monday, and we’ll get this taken care of.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Rev said as he started to leave the room.
“Oh, and you’re grounded until graduation.”
Rev immediately started to protest, but he bit it back. He deserved it, and more importantly, he couldn’t let anything get in the way of his guild swearing-in. Once that was done, he was golden.
And now, Monday morning, he and Max were climbing the steps into the county courthouse. Rev was just anxious to get it over with. He hoped the fine wouldn’t put Max back too much, but he was resigned to losing a couple months of an apprentice’s meager salary to pay him back.
He still had the bracelet attached to his wrist. That wouldn’t come off until his judgment. It beeped to life as he passed the scanner, giving him his room assignment. There had to be a hundred people in the big hallway, going this way and that, but Max got the two of them oriented, and like salmon going upstream, they made their way.
He’d expected dozens of people in a grand courtroom, but Room 1304 was barely a cubical. He sat before an inert screen, and Max took one of the two small chairs behind him.
“What now?” he asked Max.
“Now we wait.”
And wait they did. For the next forty minutes, Rev sat there, cracking his knuckles while getting more and more nervous. He just wanted to get it over with. Finally, with a flicker, the screen came to life.
A bored-looking woman in an old-fashioned judicial robe was studying something before her. Rev turned to look at Max in confusion, but his stepdad motioned for him to turn back to the judge.
It didn’t take long. Maybe twenty seconds after she appeared on the screen, she looked up and asked, “Are you Reverent R. Pelletier, Bravo-Echo-Six-six-three-two-nine-six-six-three-one-oh.”
The courtroom wouldn’t have opened for him if he wasn’t who he was, but mindful of what Max had told him, he just leaned forward and said, “Yes.”
“Please look to your left.”
He turned to the optical scanner, which was stupid, he thought. The damned police bracelet identified him when he came in. And if they needed an eye scan, then why the hell did she bother asking?
The scan flashed green, and Rev looked back at the judge.
“You are charged with violation of Civil Code Fourteen-dot-six, driving a passenger vehicle in manual mode in an autonomous area. How do you plead, young man?”
Rev cast another quick glance at Max, but they’d already discussed this. They had Rev dead to rights. Rev could plead not guilty, as was his right, but a trial might not be slated until after his swearing in to the guild, and while a Class Fourteen violation probably wouldn’t keep him out, the guild might push back his entry until after the case was adjudicated.
“Guilty, ma’am. I mean, your honor,” he said.
“Good. Smart young man.” She took a moment to look down again, then said, “I see nothing in the report that should raise any issues. It’s pretty cut-and-dry.”
Please, don’t make the fine too big, Rev prayed.
“Reverent Pelletier, I sentence you to a single term of service in the Pegasus Union Marine Corps.”
What?
“Military service? The Marines?” Rev shouted, standing up, his hands on the small ledge in front of the screen.
“Ma’am,” Max said, one hand on Rev’s shoulder, pushing him hard back into his seat. “Our lawyer confirmed that a Class Fourteen offense is not subject to conscription.”
The judge gave a wry laugh and said, “Then you better get a new lawyer. Class Thirteen and Fourteen offenses joined the list as of”—she made a show as if looking up a date—"three days ago.”
That petty, sarcastic act incensed Rev, and he fought off Max’s hand on his shoulder and stood again. “For a fucking traffic ticket? That’s just unbelievable. I didn’t murder anybody!” he screamed, leaning into the screen until his face was only centimeters away.
The judge’s eyes hardened. “I think I’d watch my temper if I were you, young man.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Max said, pulling Rev back down and hissing at him. “Can it, Rev! You’re only making it worse.”
Rev fought him for a moment before flopping back down in his seat. This was all going too fast for him, and his life was crashing in flames. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t considered the military before he got accepted into the guild. As a possible back up, he’d even planned on going down to the recruiting office to at least find out more about enlisting after he turned eighteen . . .
Rev smiled and leaned forward, his face centimeters from the pick-up. “You can’t conscript me,” he said.
“I most certainly can, young man, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”
“No, you can’t. I’m still seventeen.”
Rev leaned back, hands clasped behind his neck, a smug look on his face.
Her expression changed, and she looked down again, studying the case. “You’re right,” she said, nodding her head. “I’m not sure why that wasn’t noted on the case data. And if I’d submitted this as is, well, I think even your lawyer might have been able to invalidate the sentence.”
She reached down and made a couple of entries. “Luckily, you stopped me from that, so thank you,” she said, a fake smile on her face. “I’ve corrected it so that you are now to report to military processing on June 21st.”
The day after his eighteenth birthday.
She looked back up, and her fake smile shifted to a real one as she stared Rev down.
Rev exploded and started to shout, when Max shoved him back down with a hand clamped over his mouth.
“Ma’am, please excuse his outburst. But he’s been accepted into the Benevolent Order of Crystal Technicians, and his swearing-in is July 1st. That’s a war-priority industry. Doesn’t that change anything? Can’t you . . .?”
The judge gave Rev a long, hard look as he struggled in his stepdad’s iron grip.
“I do have that discretion, and if he was already sworn in to the guild, I might not have that choice at all. But as of this moment, he isn’t protected. And to be honest, I think the Marines might do him some good. And with his obvious fighting spirit, he might do humanity some good,” she said, this time in a slightly more reflective voice. “My sentence stands.”
The screen went dark, and a copy of the sentence popped out of the printer.
It was done.