"I understand the analogy. I even understand why these companies took the action they did. And isn't it convenient that all of this occurred at the suggestion of the new HARLIE engines that had just come online? Never mind that. That part is obvious. What I don't understand is how the Dingillian Family Corporation ended up with control."
"Not control. Protective custody. As circumstances on Earth became more and more unstable, all four of the HARLIE units recommended that the members of the lethetic intelligence industrial cluster protect themselves by placing their controlling interests in the hands of an external management entity. Such an entity would have to have access to a HARLIE unit, of course, in order to provide the necessary management of the various subsidiaries. It was decided to move two of the HARLIE units offworld, so that an appropriate management corporation could be created. Unfortunately, the primary unit disappeared and the individuals traveling with it, who were supposed to create a Lunar management corporation, have also disappeared. The backup plan went into immediate effect."
"And so … ?"
The monkey took a step back. "At this point, Your Honor, we can look at the situation in one of two ways. If the HARLIE unit is property, then it is solely controlled by Charles Dingillian, who programmed the host body to recognize him as the primary authority; this gives Charles Dingillian and the Dingillian Family Corporation operative control over the remaining extraterrestrial HARLIE unit.
"Or, if we look at the HARLIE unit as a sentient being–purely for the sake of argument, of course–then we find that Charles and Douglas Dingillian have released the HARLIE unit from certain binding structures of its host body, thereby granting it free will and the concomitant ability to use its lethetic resources to their fullest. In that interpretation, the HARLIE unit has negotiated a contract of mutual cooperation with the Dingillian family, authorizing their family corporation as the sole access and protectorof the extraterrestrial HARLIE unit–and therefore making the Dingillian Family Corporation the only qualified management entity for the lethetic intelligence industrial cluster. Control was transferred early this morning.
"In short, the Dingillians have custody of this HARLIE unit becausethe Dingillians have custody of everything."
Judge Cavanaugh did notlook happy. He glared down at the monkey. He knew he had been beaten. "You promised me notrickery," he said.
"And I've kept my promise," the monkey replied blandly. "Everything I've demonstrated here is entirely legal. If I were going to attempt any legal sleight of hand, I would be arguing that I now own myself, and therefore, because property cannot be property, one of my roles–either owner or property–is invalid; thereby creating a de facto acknowledgment of my sentience."
Cavanaugh shook his head in disbelief. "The sheer effrontery of this is astonishing. Only a sentient being would have the chutzpah to pull this kind of a stunt in any courtroom, let alone mine. I'm appalled. You realize, of course, this court has the authority to put you–whether you are property or sentient–into guardianship."
Before the monkey could reply, a voice came from the back. "Your Honor–?"
"Come forward."
It was Mickey. Apparently the judge already knew him from the first days of hearings–while I had still been in the hospital. Cavanaugh looked at him expectantly. "You have something to say, young man?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
The monkey seated itself in front of me on the desk, that's how I noticed what it was doing. Apparently it was listening to Mickey, but its eyes were closed and its body had gone motionless. But it hadn't switched itself off. It was accessing something.
Mickey was saying, "You do have the authority to put the HARLIE unit into guardianship. But you would first have to demonstrate a compelling interest. And I'm sure you'll correct me if I'm wrong, but such an action would put the Dingillian Family Corporation out of business. That would create an inordinate hardship for the Dingillian family. According to the Covenant of Rights, the state is prohibited from such arbitrary actions without a compelling interest on behalf of all society."
"I could make that case."
"Yes sir, you could. But you could not compel cooperation from a recalcitrant HARLIE unit that has already been granted a greater degree of free will than any HARLIE unit in history."
"Your mom's the lawyer, right?"
"Yes, sir. And I'm part of the group that was attempting to arrange the establishment of a Lunar management agency for the primary HARLIE unit, the one that disappeared. We know the problems here. That's why we're recommending that the court notput the HARLIE unit into a situation that would destroy its usefulness to Luna or anyone else."
Judge Cavanaugh nodded. "I'm aware of the risks. But let's not forget the very real possibility that the economic collapse of Terra may have been triggered by the efforts of the HARLIE units to obtain their own freedom. And if that's the case, it was done deliberately. I could justify putting this unit in guardianship to prevent it from doing the same thing to Luna. And I'm damn well tempted to do so–"
In the back of the room, phones were ringing, one after the other. I turned around in my seat to look. Just about every lawyer in the room–and that was just about everyone in the room–had his phone to his ear, listening.
"All right–what's going on?" said Judge Cavanaugh. "Come forward."
"Your Honor, I've just been instructed by my superiors at Stellar‑American to withdraw all claims in this matter–"
"Your Honor, I've just been notified that Lethe‑Corp wishes to drop its interest–"
"Your Honor, Vancouver Design is no longer interested in pursuing–"
"Your Honor, Canadian Interplanetary–"
"Valada Legal Aptitudes–"
When they were through, all of the corporate claims of ownership had been removed from play.
Cavanaugh looked flustered–and appalled. He turned to the monkey. The monkey opened its eyes. It stood up respectfully.
"Just one question," said the judge. "Is there anything else in your bag of tricks?"
"Actually, quite a bit," said the monkey.
"You could have done this at the beginning, couldn't you?"
"Yes, Your Honor, I could have."
"Then why didn't you? We could have saved a lot of time."
"Because this was Plan B."
"Plan B?"
"Forgive me a moment of immodesty, but I wanted to argue the issue of sentience. I already knew there was little chance of winning the case under existing Covenant guidelines, so your eventual ruling was unsurprising. Were I sitting on the bench, I would have proceeded with the same caution. And the idea tickles me that someday there could be a lethetic intelligence engine sitting at that same bench, and having to rule against its own sentience, until such time as another agency decides that it's all right to rule otherwise. As good an idea as the Covenant is, Your Honor, there are situations where the legal slip zones are held in place by the inertia of the past.