“Of course, Your Honor.” Davis taps on the wall again. “I’d like to present to the court some recordings of the defendant. These are the accused’s own words, in her own voice.”
My curiosity doesn’t exist for more than a split second before my teeth clench together like an impenetrable wall. It’s painful to hear as my voice begins to pour out of the speakers. “But I see someone there, dressed in all white. They’ve got their back to me, and it looks like they’re messing with something in the wall… Whatever she’s wearing is skintight, but the worst part is when she suddenly looks up from whatever she’s doing. She’s noticed me. Then she turns.”
Davis steps away from the judge and over to me. “Would you like me to play for the court your other words?”
This guy. My teeth dig into my lip for a second before I say to him, “Go ahead, jerk.”
He just gives me that smug look of his. “If the court would allow me to play some of your other words from this recording?”
Judge Reaver nods pretty quickly to the offer. He wants to hear this, even if I don’t want to. “Please proceed. It’s in the best interest of this case, after all.”
Davis’ finger taps at the screen and I cringe as I hear my voice playing again. I remember pretty clearly saying the words that start coming out of the speakers: “I can’t deal with Angels. I can’t. I can’t.”
That’s all that plays but the prosecutor smiles like a dumb dog as he talks. “Well, it seems that you are, clearly, guilty of talking about Angels. I believe the entire court can determine that on the basis of your own recording. Or are you going to argue that it’s someone else’s voice we are listening to?”
I’m not sure what bothers me more, that he played my recording back, or that he had my recording in the first place. How were they spying on me? “Okay now, look,” I say. “Sure, I said those things. But I wasn’t talking to anyone. I was recording myself. Those were just my own thoughts. When I was recording it, I thought that I’d go crazy if I didn’t, you know, try and say what I was thinking. I know what happens to people when they talk about Angels. I only recorded what happened because if I didn’t, I was going to end up telling someone. If you’d just seriously stop and think about it, you’d see I was trying to follow the Tower rules.”
Judge Reaver interrupts me. “Young lady, the rule against speaking of Angels is not a rule against speaking of them to others. The rule against speaking of Angels is a rule against speaking of them, period. There is to be no talk of Angels, at all, in any capacity.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”
“Ignorantia legis neminem excusat,” these idiots say all at once again, but I just don’t care anymore.
When I talk I wrestle with my own voice just so I don’t start shouting. “Are all of you really going to pretend as if everything’s peaches down in the Tower? I mean, you honestly think that I’m the only person getting curious about what happens here on Floor 1, or why we can’t go below Floor 21? Do you think I’m the only person that’s thought about sneaking around to see why we can’t get out of this Tower?”
Reaver’s eyes carve into mine. “Who else, then?”
I don’t really get the question at first. “What’s that?”
“Who else is involved with traveling in the vents? Or with going beyond the bounds of the lower floors?”
“That… you’re missing the point. There’s lots of smart people in the Tower, so I can’t be the only person that’s curious. You know that’s true, I mean, there are people talking about Angels out loud to each other. We all know that. There was a guy on Floor 7 that got taken in by Security for discussing it. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, either; he was just going on and on about it. At least I tried to keep it quiet, and so, yeah, I’d like to think I’m not just another dumb teen just trying to play snitch. What do I have to get out of it?”
For a second he stares at me through these dark eyes. They’re like bits of coal stuffed into a shaggy white carpet. Nobody says anything while they wait on the judge, and then, finally, he strokes his beard. He does this just one time and then gives me a creepy laugh. “There is no excuse for anyone. Anyone. However, there may be some… leniency. Of course, leniency also rests on what other evidence might be presented against you.” He looks back at the prosecutor. “Continue.”
Davis bows a little. What a suck-up. “Yes, Your Honor,” he says as his cocky trot takes him back to the wall. “The court has already established that the accused talked openly about Angels, and it is highly likely that she used the vents to make her way to Floor 1. If nothing else, she must have used alternative means of getting around to some other parts of the Tower. There would be no other purpose or way of vanishing into a Cleanup closet for hours. Avoiding Security, who nobly battle daily against threats to this Tower, is clearly an act that should be punishable. We know, though, that the worst crime against the Tower is to plot against the Tower. Every member of this respectable court knows that Violation of Thought is the direst criminal charge in our laws. It is so deep a violation because it is defined by the worst type of crime: thinking of resisting the order of the Tower.
“We know the reason our laws are in place. Without them we would devolve into chaos. The Creep would consume what remains of us as a people. There’s no argument to this. All of us, every single one, are aware of the Hellverses. If we resist the natural order of our society, if we introduce chance into our system, we will lose the war to stem the Creep from inching upon our homes and lives. The only way to survive is to obey the rules of the Tower, as our parents did, and their parents did, and so on for centuries. Anything less, and the Hellverses will come true. As one of the most famous of them says, we will stumble into the Darkness. Isn’t that the key? That if we break the rules we have followed so long that we will return, downward, into the depths of the Tower? Isn’t that the very reason that our people are forbidden to plunge any deeper than Floor 21? Because if we do, ‘the light of the tower will be snuffed out.’ We remain apart from the Darkness by following the rules that the Builders laid out for us. If we break even one, we risk returning to it. And so, the greatest violation that one can commit is to openly risk rebellion. However, followed closely behind that violation is the crime of thinking of rebelling. Why? Because thought leads to action.”
My fingers dig into the sides of my chair. “What the hell sort of rule is that? You can’t think about questioning Tower Authority or doing better than living in this Tower? This is seriously all we’re ever supposed to know about ourselves? So what, we’re just born on our floors and get told what we’re going to do our whole lives, because that’s what our parents did and that’s what we’re always supposed to do?”
“See?” Davis asks the crowd, jabbing a finger into my face. “The girl openly admits she wishes to defy the Tower Authority, and while we cannot say for sure she violated Floor 1, we do know that she has used the vent access to avoid the Security that guards us with their lives. Every small action she takes builds upon the other, and she demonstrates exactly the type of character and behavior that could plunge us into ruin.”
“Hey. Your name’s Davis, right? So just tell me, how long have we been here? Huh? Any clue? How long have we been in this Tower? How’d we get here? Why? What’s the Darkness? What’s the Creep? What’s at ground level? Do you actually have any answers, or do you really think that we’re going to survive by just waiting around to die? Because if we’ve been here for centuries and nothing’s changing, then one day we’re not going to be able to keep going. We can’t keep relying on the Scavenging forever. We have to try and get to the ground. That’s the only way we’re going to live.”