The Trial of Eugene Brisk

A hush washed through the courtroom as the solitary door beside the empty Jury Box opened to the crowd, replacing the murmurs and quick whispers with the rustle of clothing, the creaks and squeaks of the wooden benches as the gallery rose to their feet and muffled footfalls. The Judge was solemn as he stepped slowly onto the bench and took his seat. The Bailiff, standing against the wall behind the Judge, dragged his eyes around the room, shifting his weight from foot to foot and filling the silence with the subtle jangle of the keys attached to his utility belt. His hand was placed firmly on his service weapon. No one else dared to move.

The Judge raised his palm toward the congregation.

"You may be seated."

The benches groaned in protest as the people silently took their seats once more. Each of the twelve benches, spread from wall to aisle, was filled to capacity, with some of the spectator's bodies barely clinging to them while still rubbing elbows with their neighbors, making the space feel tight and confined, the air stifling in the windowless chamber. To them, however, there was little cause for complaint about these conditions. They were privileged enough to be witnesses to these historic proceedings.

Adjacent to the bench, the court reporter raised her hands to the stenograph, poised like a professional pianist, ready to dance her painted fingers along the keys. Across from her, the clerk, a weasel-looking man with dark, thinning hair, small reading glasses precariously balanced on his nose, and a thick walrus mustache, rose from his seat, sweat treading down his forehead, accentuating his diminished hairline. His eyes darted to the crowd, to the defendant, to the judge before settling on the papers in his unsteady hands.

"P-presenting the docket, 92-CR-00001-A," he stammered, "The State vs. Eugene Brisk."

The crowd shuffled in their seats. The clerk cleared his throat before continuing.

"Mr. Brisk has been charged with Negligence Towards Humanity by The State. He has entered a plea of Not Guilty. He is represented by Mr. Conrad Addison. The State Representatives are Mrs. Juli Marrow and Mr. Peter Williams. The case is presided by the Honorable Judge James P. Shepherd."

The clerk dropped quickly into his seat and let out a long breath.

Judge Shepherd- a tall, imposing man with thick salt-and-pepper hair and dark circles under his pale blue eyes- ran his hand down the front of his black robe, his emotionless stare trained on the defendant, who, in turn, stared resolutely back at him.

"Before we begin these proceedings," said the Judge, leaning forward in his chair, his baritone voice ricocheting off the walls, "I would like to address a few matters of importance. Firstly, Mr. Brisk. As the charges against you have been brought by The State and your case is the first of its kind, you have been denied access to a trial by a jury of your peers. The State feels that the extensive media coverage may affect a jury's ability to remain impartial, so they have chosen me as your judge and jury due to my extensive experience. If you are to be found guilty, I will also be your executioner. Do you understand this, Mr. Brisk?"

Mr. Brisk continued to stare at Judge Shepherd, his jaw set and his eyes unmoving. Beside him, Mr. Addison, a portly man with a tightly bound ponytail and a thick brown beard, shifted in his seat before placing his hand on Mr. Brisk's arm.

"Yes," said Mr. Brisk, jerking his cuffed arms away from his counsel.

"Very well. Secondly," continued the Judge, "the gallery is expressly forbidden from taking pictures or recordings of any kind. Anyone who is found to have done so will be charged with Contempt and will be sent to a Labor Camp. The gallery is also forbidden from outbursts of any kind, particularly in protest of these proceedings. Any violators will be sent to a Reeducation Camp. Am I understood?"

The congregation acknowledged in silence.

"Good. You may begin, Mrs. Marrow."

Juli Marrow, a petite young woman with dark green eyes and shoulder-length light blond hair, stood and approached the podium between the two counsel's tables, placed directly in front of the Judge's bench, buttoning her beige suit jacket as she went. Mr. Brisk fixed his attention to her. Several members of the gallery scooted to the edge of their seats.

"Your Honor," she began, "as you know, The State runs extensive testing on all its citizens from birth to adulthood- that being 25 years of age. Genetic testing, Intelligence testing, Physical testing, Disease testing, Social testing, and multiple Aptitude tests. In the nearly 60 years since The State began mandating these tests, there has not been a single individual who has failed to meet the standards set by The State, nor has there been an individual who could not reach those standards through State-sponsored intervention. Until now."

She turned her body, leaning her elbow on the podium as she looked back at the defendant. He furrowed his brow at her.

"We have amassed an extensive file on Mr. Brisk's failure to meet and abide by the standards of The State, the standards that dictate our place, function, and contribution to society. These standards supply the law and order of our State. They give us purpose when we had once blindly sought to create our own. They allow us to become the best members of society that we can be and create our individuality that is so valued in the status quo."

Mr. Brisk scoffed. Judge Shepherd fixed him with a stern glare. Mrs. Marrow didn't miss a beat as she continued.

"Mr. Brisk has a detailed history of protest against the standards. Time and again, he has failed to abide by them. Time and again, he has failed to maintain the standards and has even willingly failed to participate in them. We will present evidence to this court that proves Mr. Brisk to be a menace to our State and Negligent Toward Humanity with his vain attempts to go against the norms of our society. We will also present evidence of his attempts to taint our society with his dated rhetoric and corrupted genes. With that, The State is calling for Mr. Brisk's immediate Euthanization."

Murmurs started up in the gallery, with each member passing glances at each other in their awe. Judge Shepherd reached for his gavel as the audience silenced once more. Mr. Brisk tracked Mrs. Marrow as she returned to her seat, refusing to look back at him. Judge Shepherd turned his attention to the defendant's counsel.

"Mr. Addison, if you please."

Mr. Addison cleared his throat and ran his hand down his beard before standing and waddling up to the podium. Mr. Brisk sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"Your Honor, my client and I cannot deny the findings of the State mandated testing. Nor can we deny that my client has been outspoken against the standards of The State. However, I believe that my client has not been given the adequate support necessary to fully embrace the standards. His time in Reeducation has been limited and he has been denied Genetic Modification in the past. I will present evidence of this to the court. I believe that with renewed support, Mr. Brisk can accept the standards and become a functioning member of society. I believe that Mr. Brisk is innocent of the charges against him and that it would be beneficial to our society to set the example that anyone can be Reeducated. Thank you."

Mr. Addison turned to take his seat as Judge Shepherd spoke, stopping him in his tracks.

"I understand that you are new here, Mr. Addison," he began, "but your beliefs are not on trial. Do you have evidence to present to this court of Mr. Brisk's innocence? Do you have evidence to prove that your client would benefit from continued Reeducation?"

Mr. Brisk raised his eyebrow at his counsel. Mr. Addison shuffled his feet before flipping through his papers.

"Mr. Addison."

"Yes?"

Judge Shepherd just stared at him.

"Y-yes, Your Honor. I do have the evidence."

"Okay, then. You may be seated."

Mr. Addison returned to his seat quickly, his shoulders hung low, his eyes moving from his papers to his client. Mr. Brisk kept his eyes forward.

Judge Shepherd rubbed his temple as he leaned back in his chair.

"Mr. Williams, you may present."

Approaching the podium with a neat stack of papers, Mr. Williams- a rather muscular man with rich, ebony skin and a freshly maintained buzzcut- unbuttoned his navy blue coat and tugged at his black turtle neck. Several more members of the gallery moved to the edge of their seats.

Mr. Brisk ran a hand along the stubble on his jaw, fidgeted with his blond curls, and tapped his foot restlessly. He knew how this was going to play out.

Mr. Williams began his speech by outlining to the court how Mr. Brisk had always been a below-average student, who was frequently truant from his school, spending his time loitering at the local parks. He had very few friends, none of which he was close with, who all wrote letters to the court detailing their private conversations, during which Mr. Brisk made multiple mentions of his disdain towards the standards of The State, referring to the former system of Free-Will and the right to pursue his own happiness in his arguments with them. He then called to the Witness Stand a number of his former educators, all of whom described Mr. Brisk as resistant to the system, a melancholy child with no sense of focus or drive, and a terrible influence on his peers. They even mentioned his tendency to underperform during physical examinations, considering him to be borderline lazy.

Throughout all of this, Mr. Brisk sat reclined in his chair, his legs crossed at the ankles, his focus drawn to counting the links on his handcuffs.

His attention shifted up briefly to the podium as Mrs. Marrow joined her partner. She held a remote in her hand, which she used to turn on a projector that had been wheeled in while he wasn't paying attention. The machine clicked on and a collection of graphs appeared on the wall above the Jury Box. She began describing each of his genetic defects that had been collected by The State Health Associates. A dormant Autism gene, the Cancer gene, the addiction gene, the Depression gene, and so on. She coupled each one with an outline of his family history, which listed dozens of relatives that each exhibited the effects of the related genes. The presentation ended with a note that these genes would be passed on to his children, tainting the populace with his inherited afflictions, all of which, the tests showed, would manifest in them. Finally, Mr. Williams ended their testimony with a riveting speech on his lack of Aptitude in any career placement courses and his failure to gain any valuable skills or appreciation of the standards during his stints in Reeducation.

Judge Shepherd nodded subtly from behind the bench.

Mr. Addison then rose quickly from his chair, the papers in his hand askew. Mr. Brisk rolled his eyes at the bumbling man.

In comparison to his counterparts, Mr. Addison's argument was much shorter and devoid of any intricate detail. He described Mr. Brisk's IQ as being average, his lack of support from his parents, and the relatively short nature of the eight times he had spent in Reeducation. He did not refute the evidence presented by The State, nor could he produce any meaningful argument against Mr. Brisk's outspoken denouncements of the standards. Mr. Addison merely submitted one form, filed by his parents when Mr. Brisk turned 18, to undergo Genetic Modification to address his tainted genes. This request had been denied by the Health Associates on the grounds that it had not been submitted by Mr. Brisk himself.

The State representatives immediately attacked this last piece of evidence, citing that it displayed his refusal to conform to the standards.

Mr. Addison had no rebuttal for this.

The gallery had begun whispering to each other and exchanging exasperated looks. Some even shook their heads. Although a level of excitement and expectation began to weave its way through the enchanted audience. Mr. Brisk closed his eyes and hung his head.

"I've heard enough," said Judge Shepherd. "I am ready to make my verdict."

A deafening silence came over the room. The gallery held their breaths. The clerk wiped the sweat from his brow. The State representatives sat back in their chairs, their chins held high. Mr. Addison held his head in his hands.

Mr. Brisk lifted his head and sat tall in his chair, his hands folded on the table.

Judge Shepherd swept his gaze around the room before settling on the defendant.

"Mr. Brisk. It is the finding of this court that you are guilty of Negligence Towards Humanity. You are hereby sentenced to Euthanization."

The rabble could barely contain their cheers and grunts of approval at the verdict. The Judge quickly tapped his gavel on the table to silence them.

"I'm ruined," mumbled Mr. Addison. He said nothing to his client.

Judge Shepherd had begun signing forms and handing them to the clerk. When he finished, he looked back at the defendant.

"Mr. Brisk, do you have anything to say before your sentence is carried out?"

A smile had spread across the face of Eugene Brisk as he rose to his feet.

"I do," he said quietly.

He approached the podium.

"Today, I become a martyr," he began.

The crowd gasped collectively. Judge Shepherd narrowed his eyes at the man.

"There will come a day when society reclaims freedom and refuses to be treated like lab rats. There will come a day when the people rise up against this sham government and reclaim their right to pursue their own happiness, to choose how they live their own lives, to become true individuals again. I do not regret my decision to go against the standards because it was my choice to do so. Because I chose to live my life the way that I wanted to. Because I chose to embrace my flaws rather than have them removed from me. Because I chose to accept the things about myself that I cannot change, the things that go against the current status quo. My flaws are what make me who I am and no one can take those away from me. They may have been used to condemn me today, but I fully embrace all of those parts of me and I refuse to submit to anyone who cannot accept that flaws are inherently human. A word of advice to everyone here today: if the parts of you created in your mind have cause to manifest, do not fear the truth of them, do not change them, for they are you."

The crowd began talking loudly amongst themselves. Judge Shepherd aggressively beat his gavel on the bench.

"I will not be complacent in this," Mr. Brisk stated, raising his voice above the noise. "I will not abandon my right to choose the life that I live. I will not abandon what I believe to be true freedom and individuality. If that makes me a martyr, then I fully accept my role in all of this. It is not right for someone else to dictate every aspect of our lives. That is not living. That is oppression. There is no right in a system that is only capable of seeing what is wrong within it and snuffing it out. That is tyranny. I will not stand by and be submit myself to that. I will gladly face my death today if it means that I chose to live my life with no regrets and not allow the standards to tell me how I should live."

Rather than succumb to the urge to voice their opinions, the gallery remained silent, watching the scene playing out in front of them. Mr. Brisk held his head high as he faced the Judge, unblinking. Judge Shepherd's only reply was to wave his hand at the Bailiff, who removed Mr. Brisk from the courtroom with no protest.

The Judge- now turned Executioner- followed the men through the door next to the empty Jury Box, leaving the gallery in contemplative silence.