Lost in Time(11)

“What exactly are you saying?” Tom asked.

Levy pointed to Sam. “We have one advantage here, gentlemen. Our defendant is unique in one very important way: he is one of the inventors of Absolom.”

Elliott shrugged. “Why does that matter?”

“It might not,” Levy said. “But the question is: what if it does? What if, by the act of creating Absolom, Sam is somehow tethered to it in ways we don’t understand, by some connection of quantum entanglement or a space-time mechanism we don’t fully understand? And what if, by sending him through Absolom, we somehow break the causality bridge that created our entire present existence? What if, by sentencing Sam to Absolom, we’re sentencing our entire present reality to nonexistence? Is that a chance the world can take? To punish one man and his daughter for a crime of passion—a crime we intend to sow doubt about as well?”

Elliott rolled his eyes. “That’s not even scientifically accurate.”

“Does it have to be?”

“Yes,” Elliott said, “it has to be.”

“This is a court of law, Dr. Lucas, not a laboratory. The laws of quantum physics are a bit player in the great experiment of justice. Do you know what the prevailing force is in a courtroom?”

Sam sensed that this was another rhetorical question. They were getting a real preview of Levy’s courtroom performance skills. Elliott, however, took the bait, instantly answering: “Truth.”

“Fear,” Levy shot back.

Elliott’s eyebrows bunched together. “Fear?”

“Fear, Dr. Lucas. Everyone in that courtroom is scared of something. The defendant is afraid of being convicted. Myself, I’m scared of losing—because losing trial attorneys become former trial attorneys. The DA is scared of losing, too. Because superstar DAs become attorney generals and, if they’re lucky, senators, governors, and occasionally presidents. They’re thinking about their book deal, too—and who will play them in the miniseries. The judge is thinking about their next appointment. Or election. The jury is thinking about their own reputation. In the paper and on TV, they’ll be anonymous—juror number three and juror number nine—but let’s face it: their identities will leak. Online discussion boards will be obsessed with every aspect of this trial, including the jurors. There will be a daily—even a real-time—dissection of every witness who takes the stand and every potential tell from those twelve men and women in the jury box. Their backgrounds will be exposed. Their potential biases analyzed.”

Elliott held his hands up. “I still don’t get it.”

“You’re looking at it like a scientist,” Levy said.

“I fail to see the flaw in that,” Elliott shot back.

Levy let the silence draw out. Sam thought it was to let Elliott’s momentum fade, which worked.

When Levy spoke again, his tone was almost reflective. “Gentlemen, let’s back up for a moment. Let’s look at this from the public’s point of view. Because ultimately, that’s the true court in which our first trial will be adjudicated.”

Levy spread his hands. “First, consider what the public knows about Absolom. It’s a machine that sends the world’s worst convicted criminals back in time. Serial killers. Terrorists. Genocidal dictators. War criminals. They go into the Absolom chamber, and in a flash, they are gone from this world, sent back in time, hundreds of millions of years in the past, to the age of the dinosaurs. They’ll be alone for the rest of their life. They’ll die a terrible death. And do you know what the worst part of it is?”

This time, Levy didn’t pause for dramatic effect. He pressed on. “The unknown. That’s Absolom’s true power. That’s why every person on Earth knows the phrase, ‘A fate worse than Absolom.’ Because no one knows for sure what exactly happens to those sentenced to Absolom. We just know they disappear from our world, and never come back. And that’s terrifying, even to the world’s worst criminals.”

Elliott rolled his eyes. “We know what happens to them.”

“How do you know?” Levy asked, his voice reflective.

“Entanglement proves—”

Levy quickly pointed at Elliott. “Exactly. Exactly, Dr. Elliott. Your entanglement data shows that Absolom payloads arrive in the past. And the reason the entire system works is that they don’t arrive in our past. Absolom activation branches our timeline. It makes a copy and it sends the criminal back to an alternate universe. A copy of our universe, where nothing they do can impact our reality. That’s why it’s safe, isn’t it? Because they’re utterly and truly gone from this universe. That’s why the public accepts it.”

“I wouldn’t say everyone accepts it,” Sam said.

“True,” Levy replied. “Every Absolom departure sparks protests. Since its introduction, the efforts to shut it down haven’t stopped. Because a lot of people think it’s too cruel and unusual. And even more people are, to some degree, afraid of this mysterious box. They like what it has done for society. They like getting rid of the world’s worst criminals. But they also fear it. And that fear is what we will use.

“Again, our question to the world will be: what if, in the case of Dr. Samuel Anderson, because he is one of the six inventors of Absolom, he’s entangled with it in a unique way? What if, by trying to tear him from this universe, it rips the very fabric of our reality? Can the world take that chance? Would you risk ending everything to punish one man?”