The People versus Success by CS Cordry

He slumped at his desk, wiping the sweat from his brow. Mr Kennerton patted him on the back, saying flatly and without even the pretense of emotion, “Good job, Robert.” Just as Robert nodded, he shivered; it was January, and the courthouse waspractically snowed in.

The observers in the court murmured and shook their heads, as if expressing doubt or pity. Most of them were Proletarians’-rights activists and top men from the labor unions. The labor unions now served almost as a second legislative branch in the People’s Federation of North America. Alone, standing in the back corner of the hall, were four older men in suits. They shook their heads like the others, but remained silent.  They looked grimly at the judge, searching for something that had once stood behind him, but had vanished- vanished along with everything else they had held dear, when the Bloodless Revolution succeeded.

The judge, seeming to be the only one in the courthouse who was amused, spoke clearly and sardonically, “The court will now hear the defense in the case of Biotech Industries versus the Equal Opportunity for All Workers law of the Province of Washington.”

Robert watched a young man in a casual shirt and slacks gather his notes and stand, smiling to the audience, a look in his eyes like that of a crusader, fighting for the cause that he had always been taught was right, the cause that he had always known to be right. Robert coughed, attempting to smother his lack of respect for these looters- these defenders of sloth and undue equality, these bandits and brigands who would seek to profit from the efficacy of others.

The young defense lawyer, who Robert’s clients referred to as “The Lumberjack” because of his quaint clothing, walked through the central isle and up to the podium, casting a sidelong glance of pity and pride at Robert and the rest of the “petitioners.”

“Proletary-Citizens of the Province of Washington,” he began, “the ‘Equal Opportunity for All Workers’ law has protected our right to employment and the chance to earn a decent living for the last five years, since the end of the grand, glorious, and benevolent Bloodless Revolution. The law guarantees a worker’s right to any job, preventing any sort of discrimination on the employer’s part concerning gender, race, creed, or superficial ‘prior skills’ and ‘qualifications’ that employers once mistakenlythought to be important. Today, in the glory of the Peoples’ Federation, we have overcome those greedy, selfish, self-helping capitalist ideas. Today, jobs are distributedbased on the job-seeker’s demonstrated need for the position. What more fair way is there to distribute jobs than this, our current system?”

The young defense lawyer, Thomas Goodwight, looked out over the courtroom,seemingly daring some foolish soul to answer the question that he had thought to be rhetorical. The courtroom was deathly silent. In the back, four heads gazed downwards.  Mr. Kennerton sat with his head in his hands. Robert’s face grew red and flushed. He stared into Thomas’ eyes, but nothing stared back.

Robert stood and opened his mouth to speak, “Objection! Your Honor, I-”

“Objection Denied!” bellowed the judge, not even allowing Robert to finish.

That night, Robert sat in a stuffy, dusty office overlooking the courthouse. Around the table also sat Mr. Kennerton, the CEO of Biotech Industries Unlimited, and the four analysts who had stood in the back of the courthouse all through the day.

“Unfortunately,” remarked the youngest analyst, “they are right, morally. Mr Kennerton, our opposition to the Equal Opportunity for All Workers law is self-serving, greedy, and... Well, how does it help the common people?”

Exasperated, Robert snapped decisively, “You have come to let yourself believe that? That’s exactly what’s wrong with this case! We’re all making the assumption, this whole nation seems to have made the assumption, that working to better one’s own lot is immoral.” Robert gulped down his glass of ice water. “And that assumption, gentlemen, is resoundingly false.” Robert gathered his papers, marched out, and slammed the creaking door behind him.

All the “witnesses” had given testimony similar to this. Thomas Goodwight paced before the podium, questioning them in the friendliest, most neighborly tones he could manage. All of the witness' replies were parallel:

“No, I wasn’t able to graduate from highschool... it’s not my fault I wasn’t a good student.”

“No, I couldn’t manage to support myself at a comfortable middle-class level at the wages I was getting before the Equal Opportunity for All Workers law.”

“Yes, now that such-and-such a corporation has adopted the Equal Opportunity policy, I can support myself and my growing family.”

Robert sat at his desk, his head in his hands. After each witness, Mr. Kennerton would beg him to cross-examine the witness. Each time, Robert would remain silent. There wasn’t anything in the testimonies that seemed substantial enough to reply to. If only there were some way he could make these people understand- understand that the truly ethical citizen was the one who provided for himself, who relied on his own efficacy, not one who sucked away the rightful earnings of others like a leech on the leg of an Olympian runner. But it was no use.

Now, however, the time had come. This was the defense’s final witness. Robert stood and said clearly and loudly, “Your Honor, the Petitioning side requests the right to cross-examine the witness.”

“You have the floor,” replied the judge, methodically and mechanically.

Robert began, “You stated, Citizen Miller, that you were unable to graduate from high school. Why was this?”

“I was...underqualified,” replied Mr. Miller.

“Was it,” inquired Robert, “In the best interest of Execucorp Electronics to hire you, as opposed to an applicant more capable of doing the job?”

“Well... I don’t see why that would matter. The Equal Opportunity for All Workers law required Execucorp to hire me, because someone with training could easily find another job,” replied Mr. Miller smugly.

“Mr. Miller, answer the question. Would or would not Execucorp Electronics have been better off hiring someone better able to serve the company?”

“Why, Mr. Petitioner, sir, I... well, I suppose they would. But it doesn’t-”

“And, Mr. Miller,” continued Robert, “do you think that Provincial Law should require a citizen to work for their own detriment?”

As Robert expected, the call of, “Objection, Your Honor,” rang out from behind him.

“Objection granted, Mr. Goodwight. Officer of the Petition, I ask you to cease badgering the witness,” said the judge, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

That evening, one line rang out through Seattle’s newspapers, streets, radios, Holo-Vision networks, and local cyberspace: “Capitalist Oppressors Harass Proletarians in Court!” In schools, at town meetings, on billboards, and on streetcorners, the People denounced Biotech Industries Unlimited.  Robert flipped from channel to channel on his Holo-Vision, faster and faster.  The three-dimensional images resting on his floor appeared as if they had molded into a single, chaotic, viscous conglomeration of light and color. The thing on the living room floor cried out the messages of the people: “Henry Kennerton mugged on street by extremist citizens... Biotech stock falls to near-zero level... Local political analysis group unanimously predicts Biotech case will be dismissed-”... Robert threw down the remote control in disgust.

“We’ll see about that,” he said gravely to himself. I’ll be damned if the looters and their Popular Law destroy free commerce. It’s not right- they can’t continue indefinitely to profit from the hard work of others.”

Again, Robert sat at his desk in the dusty courthouse, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The hundred volunteers of the People’s Jury would have their verdict in two minutes. Robert glanced to his side, to Mr. Kennerton in his neckbrace and the four analysts behind him.

One of the analysts leaned forward and whispered to Robert, “All hope is not lost.  When the judge gave the Peoples’ Jury their instructions for deliberation this morning, he told them to base their verdict solely on whether or not the law was of benefit to the Peoples’ Federation. Remember this as well- the jury has been isolated and thus will not be influenced by public opinion.”

Inside, Robert was grinning. “Perhaps we do have a chance,” thought Robert, “Public opinion is the very essence of their case... maybe, just maybe, those people will show some insight and vote to repeal the law.”  Robert’s hopes and the hopes of the rest of Biotech’s team grew by the second for the rest of those two suspenseful minutes. Without public opinion, justice would surely prevail!

“Yes,” thought Thomas Goodwight on the opposite side of the room, “justice will and must prevail. He congratulated himself inwardly for once again brilliantly defending the cause of the North American People.

Suddenly, the entire courthouse fell silent. The immense double doors of the Peoples’ Jury deliberation chamber had swung open with a thud, and the Jurors had begun to file in. As the media’s camera flashed, those in the front of the room wrung their hands in apprehension.  Thomas Goodwight bit his lip. This was his shining moment. He was to be a champion of the people. Across the room, Robert examined the countenance of each Juror, searching desperately for some obscure hint at the outcome of the deliberations.  Who would prevail? “The time of reckoning is at hand, an old voice stated flatly and gravely, yet hopeful and tense at the same time.  The line of Jurors had finished filing into the courtroom. The doors ominously banged shut behind them.

The judge banged his gavel. “The Provincial Judiciary Court of the Province of Washington of the Peoples’ Federation of North America will now hear the verdict of the Peoples’ Jury concerning whether or not the Equal Opportunity for All Workers law shall remain in effect.”

The lead Juror hesitated, biting his lip and scratching his head. A gust of wind shot through the courthouse’s sole window, sending a noticeable shiver up Robert’s spine.

“Proletary-Citizens of the Province of Washington,” pronounced the lead Juror,  “The Peoples’ Jury, by a vote of fifty-one to forty-nine, finds that the Equal Opportunity for All Workers law...”

As the lead Juror hesitated, Thomas Goodwight bowed down his head and prayed.  On the opposite side of the courthouse, Robert forced himself not to scoff at the superstition. It was too late for that, anyway. Neither of them were in any position to scoff, at the moment.

“...Shall remain in effect.”

The entire courthouse jumped up with joy, congratulating each other, patting each other on the back, and generally spreading good cheer. The four analysts simply walked out and left, declining to answer the reporters’ frantic queries. Mr. Kennerton, outraged, stomped up to the judge’s podium and bickered loudly but incoherently. Robert simply sat at his desk, his head in his hands.

Later that night, over champagne and overpriced cheese, Thomas Goodwight commented to a group of friends, “Once again, we have defended the right of the common man to that which he needs, but is powerless to procure for himself. We have protected the people from greedy capitalist pigs who would dare to put concern for themselves over concern for their neighbors. We have punished selfish business enterprises who would dare hire employees simply on the bases of their ability to make money for the employer. I’d say we’ve done a good service to the nation, wouldn’t you, boys?”

Miles away, Robert gazed up from his desk and examined the dark, abandoned courthouse. “No,” he said, “No.”

Robert stood up and walked to the front of the courtroom. Speaking like a pastor, preaching to an empty church, he began, “No, they haven’t done what’s best. They have defended man’s right to what he cannot earn. The Peoples’ Federation be damned. They are all criminals,  and they are all mistaken with regards to man’s virtues. They condemn us for being successful, they condemn us for working for ourselves, they condemn us for our own efficacy.”

“Why? As an excuse. Those who contrived this insane system of values were those who could not provide for themselves. We are not our brothers’ keepers: let our brothers fend for themselves, if they can, and let them treat us in the same manner.  Man’s true virtue is his own efficacy. One must be productive. Happiness is the measure of one’s productivity. Then, let happiness be the measure of man’s virtue...” Robert continued, and continued until dawn. He left then only when subjected to force- his sermon continued on streetcorners throughout the city until the day he died, penniless and given up for insane by a society that mistook success for sin.