to instinctively fling his hands in front to prevent from falling. "Whoa! The room's smaller than I thought." Sneering, "You people having a good time hoping I'll fall on my ass?"
A red 'X' appeared in the middle of the floor. A robotic voice said, "Step on the mark, Wade Thornton."
Studying the image, he retorted, "No way, Jose. Ain't doin' nothin' til I gets some answers. Now where am I, and what's going on?"
After a few a few moments of dead silence, he perceived a faint whining sound and softly touched the wall with his fingertips. There was a slight vibration. Pressing an ear against it he felt his head being gently pushed back. Then, the bottom of the wall struck his shoe again, this time forcing it to slide backward on the flooring. He realized with shock, "Sonnavabitch, the wall's moving. It's closing in on me!"
"Step on the mark, Wade Thornton," repeated the automatron.
Ignoring the command, he raced around searching for an exit or telltale crack to attack and pry open. The whining grew louder. Wade came to a halt. Had the enclosure shrunk several feet, or more?
"Step on the mark, Wade Thornton." Panic sat in. He bolted and slammed into another part of the nightmarish prison. He pushed with all his might, the veins stood out on his ever-reddening face. The barrier kept coming: the chamber measured now less than eight feet across.
"Step on the mark, Wade Thornton."
Eyes bulging, Thornton stared at the red 'X' as if it were the escape hatch from Hades itself. He leapt in the center, jerked both arms up and bellowed, "I'm on it!"
A transparent, seven-foot tall cylinder slid over him. He excitedly poked and prodded it with vigor to no avail. The surface felt like soft plastic, yielding, yet unbreakable. Movement again, he braced himself inside his new confinement. "What now?" A similar shaped doorway opened and his container began sliding toward it. As he passed through, lights turned on and off - there was blackness ahead and blackness behind as he traversed a network of underground tunnels to an unknown destination. "I can't breathe!" he cried out. "Help! Can anyone hear me?"
"We hear and you will not suffocate," droned the metallic voice. He proceeded through the final corridor, took a right turn and came to a stop. His heart pounded and he had developed a headache from the string of flashing lights. Another portal materialized and Wade quickly discerned five people sitting at three tables inside a large, austere chamber. He felt a little better upon seeing some human faces. "Bout damn time, you worthless piece of plastic tubing," chastised Thornton. The transporter glided into the open center area and coasted to a standstill.
A disembodied voice rang out, "The New Order versus Wade Thornton!"
Wade waved his arms back and forth inside his capsule to make sure he had their attention. He ranted, "Hey, you people. Let me outta here. Like, right now would be good!"
"No, you shall remain where you are," answered a new voice. "Be silent and listen to your proceeding."
Staring straight ahead with his mouth agape, he first gawked at the three figures behind a long table: two men and a teenage boy. The young man on the right wore a green jump-suit, in the center sat a middle-aged man clad in blue and on the left an older gentleman in black. To Thornton's left rear, a similar scenario was presented by a fellow donned in red attire stationed at his own table and to Wade's right rear, a young woman dressed in white also sat alone.
The prisoner gazed about and speculated, "Another barren room, no frills. Is this a hospital? The Nuthouse?" He declared, "Hey, you guys, I ain't sick and I sure as hell ain't crazy neither."
"Silence, Wade Thornton. Your presence is a privilege, not a right."
Wade simmered, he knew he had rights, lots of them, but decided to button up and see what was going down.
Mister Blue rose, "Mister Green please state the charge," and sat back down.
The green teenager popped up, "The defendant, Wade Thornton, is charged with murder in the fourth dimension of James Glover, a human being," and returned to his chair.
Mister Blue stood again, "Mister Red, your presentation."
Wade watched with curiosity as the people bounced up and down and thought, "Is this some kind of game? Is someone going to pin the tail on the donkey next?"
"The New Order asserts, and will prove conclusively, Wade Thornton did indeed willfully and wantonly, without remorse, terminate the life of James Glover during the course of acquiring unlawful personal gain."
Again, from Mister Blue, "How does your client plea, Miss White?"
"My client pleads 'guilty' and begs for the mercy of the court."
Thornton's head jerked in her direction, "Hey, wait a damn minute here! If you're talking about me, I don't plead guilty to nothin! Just what is this? Kangaroo court on the Funny Farm? And, who the hell are you, little girl?"
"Miss White," interjected Mister Blue. "Your client apparently needs consultation. Elucidation is permitted. You may have a short conference."
The first thing she said to Wade was their communication was confidential and private. Then, "Do you have a question or objection, Wade Thornton?"
"I sure do, Baby. I knows some law; enough to know I'm entitled to counsel before a trial. If that's what this here circus is supposed to be. Nobody's told me a dang thing! You better put some words on me or else I'm really gonna start making a fuss."
Annoyed, she glanced at the clock on the wall and mumbled under her breath, "I have a personal, physical enhancement session at the gym in twenty minutes."
Wade's eyes followed hers; the glowing digital display showed, 7-30 15:10 2145. Miss White then checked her terminal notes and nodded her head in understanding. "That explains the problem. You're dated before the New Order." She turned to Thornton, "I'm going to make this short and sweet by making a parallel even you should understand. I'm sure you're very familiar with the archaic judicial system from your own time period. Thankfully, it no longer exists... In our system: Mister Red at the single table like my own, is the Prosecutor and he has no assistants. The three people in front are the Governing Council. Mister Green is the Referencer. Mister Blue is the Master of Ceremony and Mister Black is the Magistrate. I am your defense attorney; there are no assistants for me either. And lastly, there are no jurors, nor spectators permitted. Pretty simple system, isn't it?"
"Uh, if you say so Cutie," returned Wade. "But what's that about a New Order? What do you mean?"
"Look," while throwing her head back. "This is the future to you, Wade Thornton. Are you so dense I have to spell out everything?"
"Caution," admonished, Mister Blue. The Court had recognized this was Miss White's first Time Travel case and some leniency in protocol was being extended.
Composing herself, "Yes, Sirs of the Court, thank you." Readdressing her client, she pointed at the timepiece. "July thirtieth, fifteen-ten p.m., twenty-one forty-five. You have been transported forward in time. And, in answer to your question: the New Order, our system of government, was established in the year, twenty-one hundred. Get it now?"
Wade stared at the blinking digits. "Twenty-one forty-five? The year is twenty-one forty-five?" Dumbfounded, he stuttered, "Wait. This is crazy. If this is the future as you say then I must've died over a hundred years ago. Why bring me here now? What's the point?"
Exasperated by the amount of time being consumed on this simple open and shut case, "Oh, well, I can kiss my p.e. session goodbye, thanks to you." She rapped her knuckles on her table and took a deep breath. "Mister Green, my client wishes to know the Avoidance Postulate."
"Certainly, Miss White. Crime procreates crime," he stated.
"Elaborate in regards to this session please, Mister Green." directed the M.C.
"Yes, sir. Public record informs us two years after the James Glover crime and during Wade Thornton's final apprehension, the defendant killed a priest and two nuns during a robbery and shoot-out at a Catholic Church fund raising bazaar. As a direct result of his actions, four other incidents were perpetrated by copy-cat offenders which led to three additional deaths. Those late
r losses of life have been classified as Crimes of Influence, hence avoidable and worthy of intervention by the New Order. Our Time Warp recording personnel have researched and determined the life extensions of the afore-mentioned victims will not have a detrimental effect on our present existence. Therefore, this retrieval has been deemed humane, beneficial and functional."
Looking Thornton in the eye, she said, "Do you understand the mechanics now? Quite simply, the more crime this council eliminates in the past, the less crime we have in our present." She let the postulate sink in then added, "Also meaning, in your particular application, neither the murder of James Glover nor your indirect responsibility for the subsequent related losses of life can be evaded. There is no escape, either via a statute of limitations or even by your own prior death." She smiled, "And, especially by your era's favorite avenue: the technical error. Justice will be served when dealing within the Fourth Dimension."
"Fourth dimension?" he repeated.
"I thought it had become clear by now, even to a dimwit as you. The Fourth Dimension is Time. You shall face justice here for the crime you committed in the year nineteen seventy-four, Wade Thornton."
"Justice. Humph." He then put the shoe on the other foot and accused her, "You sure don't sound much of a defense attorney to me. You talk like you're working for the other side." Rubbing his scraggly beard, he demanded, "So, just what