The man sat in the windowless room, a pane of reflective glass beside him. Behind that, the judges who would determine whether he would be freed… or executed. In front of him was the General Inspector, in his emerald green suit and slicked-back hair. The General Inspector turned to him.
“All right, let’s go over this one more time. Your name is Jon Archer, correct?”
“Yes.”
“That’s yes sir to you. And you are 34 years old, correct?”
“Yes.”
The General Inspector frowned but continued. “You hail from the East Coast Division, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You were arrested for trespassing into the Midwest Division, correct?”
“I was lost,” Jon said. “I was on a hike and ended up crossing the border by mistake.”
“The High Director disagrees,” replied the General Inspector.
“How? He’s not here?”
“The High Director is informed of all events in his territory.”
“No way. There’s too much stuff going on for him to know everything,” Jon replied indignantly.
“Nevertheless, he manages. Now, at 15:48, on May 15, 2052, you were apprehended by Border Officers who were passing by on a hovercraft, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You were in possession of illegal substances, correct?”
“What? No!”
“Then I must ask that you explain these.” He pulled out a pill bottle and rattled it around.
“Those are my allergy medications!”
“The High Director disagrees.”
“If the High Director has such strong opinions, why can’t he just come down here himself?”
“Unfortunately, the High Director is very busy preventing a deal between the Neo-Bolsheviks and Red Cuba.”
“How do Cuba’s actions affect us? It’s the Southern Division that should be worried! They’re closer!”
“The only reason you don’t have a problem with Cuba is because everyone in the East Coast Division are Commies.”
“The East Coast Division isn’t Communist. It’s more of a refined Socialism.”
“Communists, Socialists, they’re all the same. Thinking everyone gets to choose what happens, when in reality, one person should do that: the High Director.”
Jon put his head in his hands. “Just let me go,” he said. “I didn’t mean to trespass, and it won’t happen again.”
“I’m afraid we cannot do that,” the General Inspector replied. “It is against our policy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must speak with the judges as to what your sentence will be.”
The General Inspector left the room. Jon stood up and began to pace. How long would the General Inspector’s meeting with the judges take? A few minutes? An hour? What if they just left him in this room forever? Finally, the General Inspector re-entered the room.
“After careful deliberation, the judges and I have decided that we will not execute you, despite the fact that the death penalty is our usual policy for trespassers.”
“So you’re letting me go?”
“Oh, heavens no! I just said you won’t be executed, not that we’re freeing you! We’re just trying to avoid any fuss from your Commie government. No, we’re putting you in prison for life.”
“What? No! You can’t do that!”
“I’m afraid we can. It’s well within our power.”
“The East Coast Division won’t stand for this!”
“They might be annoyed, but what can they do? The North American Division Agreement clearly states that all divisions have the right to imprison trespassers for as long as they want.”
“No! Don’t do this! Please!”
The General Inspector whistled, and two guards in pitch-black uniforms entered the room, hoisted Jon up by his arms, and dragged him away. As Jon was dragged down the passage towards the prison cells, he noticed that the door to the room containing the judges was ajar. He peeked into the room, desperate to see the people who had consigned him to his terrible fate. But the room was empty. The five seats where the judges supposedly sat were covered with cobwebs.
The truth hit Jon like a ton of bricks. There were no judges. There hadn’t been for years. The General Inspector had made the decision on his own. The judges had just been an illusion of fairness and democracy. The High Director and General Inspector were the only ones with power. As he neared the prison cells, Jon passed a window. The sun hit his face, and he soaked it up, wondering if it would be the last time he ever saw the light of day.
