The trial of Everett Charles Parker was a particularly unpleasant matter, in view of the defendant’s unswerving refusal to manifest any sign of contrition whatsoever. The state of Rhode Island hadn’t been forced to prosecute anyone for many years and the entire process seemed contrary to the system of jurisprudence that flourished in the twenty-second century. It was a costly, burdensome mess.

From the beginning, the honorable Justice Samuel Collins tried his best to persuade the accused to accept some type of arrangement, but Parker’s attorney—an obdurate Harvard graduate from New York City wouldn’t have any of it. “We are challenging the constitutionality of the arrest, your Honor—”

The judge broke in, “I read your brief, Mr. Jones. And I have decided that you can take that up in an appellate forum, where it belongs. My court is strictly concerned with the conviction of the accused.”

“If it please the court.” The prosecuting attorney, Jamie Rankin, was a tall woman with shoulder length red hair. She stood at her table, raising a hand. “There was nothing procedurally wrong….”

“I understand what he means,” Judge Collins growled, “I just said that. And the application for dismissal has been denied.”

Running a hand over his slick black hair, Jones announced calmly, “Nonetheless, my client’s plea of Not Guilty remains the same, your honor. We challenge the state to obtain a conviction on the charge.”

“With all due respect, your Honor.” Miss Rankin countered, “The defense is making a mockery of these proceedings.”

Jones sounded exasperated, “I’m only trying to provide my client with his constitutionally guaranteed right to a trial.”

“Your Honor, this is ridiculous!”

“All right.” The judge stopped them. He raised an eyebrow at Jones. “As counsel knows, the concept of an actual jury trial is virtually unknown in modern judicial forums.”

Jones held up a folder. “Your honor, there have been fourteen arrests for robot molestation in the state of Rhode Island since the law went into effect last November. All were disposed of by means of plea bargain. There has never been an actual conviction under the new law.”

“If you are attempting to make a point about lack of precedent—” The judge was irritated. “—That won’t hold water. A confessed criminal is a convicted offender, whether or not he’s seen the inside of a courtroom. Those other fourteen cases provide us with plenty of precedent.”

“My client feels it is his right, as guaranteed in the first amendment—”

“Stop.” Judge Collins held up his hand. “I am not ruling on whether or not the defendant has a right to diddle his robot; I already told you that.” He gave Jones a glare. “Now the offer on the table is six months incarceration and eighteen months probation. I suggest you advise your client to take it.”

“Your Honor,” Jones responded, “the defense respectfully declines.”

“How would your client feel if I order that he be charged with interfering with official acts?”

“What!”

The judge cleared his throat. “That is what I am going to do if you insist on wasting this court’s time any longer.”

“We have a right—!”

The judge roared, “You have a right to sit down, Mr. Jones!” He stared at the defendant—a timid, mousy looking man— “Mr. Parker, do you accept the district attorney’s recommendation?”

The answer was a strangled squeak, “I- I don’t think I did anything wrong, sir.”

Judge Collins shouted, “Bailiff, I want the defendant and his counsel removed from my courtroom!” He was furious. “Maybe a night in our county facility will help them see the light!”

“Your Honor!” Jones cried in disbelief.

“I sentence the both of you to twenty-four hours in jail for contempt of court!” The gavel banged down and Judge Collins shot Jones a challenging glare, daring the lawyer to disagree.

A week after the arraignment, jury selection began. Like every other aspect of the trial, this was a complex, protracted process that seemed impossible to control. It took three grueling days.

The trial had achieved national notoriety by this time. Legislation concerning robots had proliferated throughout America in recent years and regional differences were enormous. Private robot ownership was illegal in both the states of Florida and Maine, and California had sanctioned human/robot marriage. Rhode Island and Tennessee had outlawed robot molestation. And in Washington DC, android secretaries were guaranteed vacation days by law. There was no consistency, and the trial of Everett Parker was viewed as a benchmark of legislative precedent.

For his part, Judge Collins never lost his resentment toward the defendant and he was determined that the jury would find him guilty. Ultimately, his will prevailed. However, It was Everett Parker’s own testimony that spelled his doom. Until that point in the trial, it seemed as though the prosecution was bound to lose. But Jones made the mistake of putting his client on the stand and when the young man’s testimony was finished, so was the case.

Although Parker was nervous, it started out well enough. When Jones asked him his name and address, he responded congenially, even offering the jurors a smile.

Jones glanced at the jury and back at his client. “What do you think about the charge against you, Mr. Parker?”

Jamie Rankin was quick to object. “Your honor, what possible relevance could that have?”

“It goes to my client’s state of mind at the time of his arrest,” explained Jones.

“Sustained,” the judge’s bored voice droned.

Jones took another tack. “Tell me—in your own words—what happened on the night of July 29, 2137?”

“The night I was arrested.”

“Yes.”

Everett Parker threw a nervous glance at the gallery. There seemed to be hundreds of people jammed into the courtroom. He tried to ignore them as best he could. “I- I was home. I went to bed about nine o’clock and I invited my Sally 3000 to join me, which she did. A few hours later, I was woken up by the police.”

“You admit you had relations with your robot?”

“Yes, I admit that.”

“And it wasn’t the first time.”

“No. Sally and I have been intimate on sixteen occasions, in the year that I’ve owned her, according to her tapes. I don’t deny any of it.”

“Did you think that you were committing a crime?”

“Objection!” the prosecutor injected.

“Sustained.”

“Tell me, Mr. Parker,” Jones continued, nonplussed. “Have you ever considered therapy for your unusual proclivity?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Parker retorted. “And there’s nothing wrong with what Sally and I do!”

Jamie Rankin hopped to her feet. “Objection!”

But Parker wouldn’t quit. “Why do the manufacturers give robots human parts and make them so real!”

“Mr. Parker!” the judge banged his gavel.

“They program them to be totally submissive!”

“Mr. Jones, if you do not silence your client, I will have him gagged!”

Jones feigned an apology, “I’m sorry, your honor. No further questions.”

After lunch, Jamie Rankin went to work on Parker. She started with tiny jabs and pokes, probing for his weakness. When she found it, she tore a huge, gaping hole in him and showed the jury the ugliness inside. “Mr. Parker, are you aware that in the state of Tennessee, you could receive a twenty year sentence for the crime you’ve been charged with?”

Jones leapt in, “Objection! Improper cross, your honor.”

“Don’t answer that question,” the judge ruled quietly.

Jamie Rankin pressed her fingers together. She took a step forward, placing herself directly in front of the jury box. “You testified that robot manufacturers program the androids to be submissive, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s very important to you, isn’t it?”

Parker paused for a moment. “I- I guess.”

“Have you ever had a robot refuse sex, Mr. Parker?”

Jones was on his feet. “Objection, your honor!”

“I’ll allow it.” The judge looked at Parker. “The witness will answer the question.”

After a moment, Parker said softly, “They never say no. They can’t.”

“And what if one day, a robot did refuse you sex, Mr. Parker?”

“That couldn’t happen!” The young man was agitated.

A flush of emotion painted Jones’s face. “I object!”

“Overruled!”

Swiveling suddenly, the prosecutor took a step towards the witness and her voice bristled with accusation, “But what if a robot did reject your advances!”

“I don’t know-!”

The witness was visibly upset and Jamie Rankin pounced on her prey like a tigress. “There are robots that are programmed to refuse arbitrary control. I guess you didn’t know that, Mr. Parker. What if a robot said no to you? Would you be afraid to ask another one? Where would you go for sex then!”

“Please, your honor,” Jones begged.

“I- I-!“ Parker fidgeted nervously in the witness chair.

“What other segment of our society would you choose to victimize then, Mr. Parker?” Directly in front of the witness now, Jamie Rankin slammed her hands onto the wooden rail between them. “The elderly? Children!”

“I- I DON’T KNOW!” Parker sobbed miserably.

“No further questions, your honor.” Jamie Rankin smiled triumphantly as she returned to her seat.

The twelve men and women on the jury took thirty-five minutes to reach a verdict. Everett Charles Parker was found guilty and they recommended the maximum sentence of two years.

There was a sentencing hearing a week after the trial ended. Like everything else, it was a complicated blur of technical procedure that seemed interminable. At the end of the day, Judge Collins was finally able to put the whole mess to bed. He ended it with a bang.

“For each of the sixteen violations of Statute A6512.8 admitted in the defendant’s confession, I sentence the defendant to two years incarceration, for a total of thirty-two years in Miramont State Penal Facility.” Judge Collins banged his gavel and that was that. The silence that hung over the courtroom lasted long enough for him to escape to his chambers. As he closed the door, the reaction of voices started behind him.

Sam immediately poured himself a drink. He was shaking and sweaty and so damned glad the awful business was finally over! He got out of his robe and sat behind the desk in his undershirt and pants with the lights off.

The trial had been more work than he could have ever imagined. He didn’t want to have to go through anything like that ever again! He would retire from the bench first.

But the way he’d treated Parker, Sam had sent a stern message bound to dissuade any more civil rights nuts from demanding a trial. It was too bad for the young man, but it had to be done. Society couldn’t afford unnecessary burdens like juries and trial law. The plea bargaining system was fair and it worked. It wasn’t perfect, but it was all they had.

Dean Grondo is (in his words) an adequate writer of both fiction and nonfiction. He has had stories and articles appear in several magazines and newspapers. He lives in Iowa.

Robot Couple by Pete. Visit his etsy shop, Builder’s Studio, to see more.