and freedom and family and apple pie….He’s great , except that he’s totally useless.”
“Useless? How is that useless?” Kris’ heart was pounding , and she was speaking much faster than she realized. “I asked Lena to help me get Mi chael and Jeff released. She gave me this number and said that he could help—that he might help. She must have thought that he would take their case and that he could get them released.”
“What case? Mike and Jeff haven’t been charged with a crime . They’re not entitled to a trial; they’ve just been hauled away into the darkness—just like O’Brien, just like everybody. I’m surprised this Cicchetti guy’s not sharing a cell with them already—if he gets involved in this he will be. But let’s say that for some reason he’s suicida l, and he decides to commit suicide by acting as an attorney for two guys who’ve been arrested for domestic terrorism. Who would he go to? Without the right to a trial, they don’t need a lawyer.”
“No, this is it, Keith. I just know it. You said that Cicchetti has argued cases before the U.S. Supreme Court and won. Maybe he would take Michael and Jeff’s case to the Supreme Court. Maybe he would argue that indefinite detention is unconstitutional—if he did that and he won, then they could be releas ed. And not just them— everybody could be released. The note that Michael sent me said, ‘Fight for the laws of our country.’ This is what he meant.”
“Fight how? Cicchetti argues cases about constitutional law, except that the Constitution apparently doesn’t exist anymore and , in case you’ve forgotten, neither does the Supreme Court.”
“The Supreme Court exists. They just haven’t heard any cases while they’re waiting for their building to be cleaned up since that thing happened with the bomb threat .”
“Oh, come on, Kris. Do you really think that after three years the U.S. government still hasn’t cleaned up one building in Washington D.C. so that the C ourt can meet, while, inexplicably , all of the other buildings around it remain perfectly safe ? That ‘terrorist attack’ was such a stupid, transparent frame-up from the start. There was never any danger from explosives . It was just an excuse to lock up the building and disband the C ourt. This country is full of buildings—the justices could have found one to meet in while theirs was being cleaned if they hadn’t already known what was up. Those gutless wonders in Congress and SCOTUS just stood around looking scared while the President locked up the Supreme Court B uilding and took away all of their authority. I can tell you this—they’ll never meet again. That build ing will sit there closed until it falls down from neglect before another case is heard there.
“So here’s what we’ve really got—a guy who used to argue a dead set of laws nobody respects anymore in front of a group of old has-been judges nobody respects anymore. If you ask me, Cicchetti is about as worthless as the world’s greatest buggy whip maker at the New York International Auto Show.”
Kris walked outside. Everything Keith had said was true. There was no reason to believe that Cicchetti would meet with her. There was no reason to believe that if he did meet with her he would take her case. The U.S. Supreme Court had not met for three years, and the Constitution was no longer governing the country. This was a dead end.
She looked out over the horizon. St. George was such a bleak place. The desert appeared to stretch on forever, and at the far end of it the sun had sunk below the horizon , leaving just a slight rosy tint in the sky. Where was Michael tonight? Was he in a dark windowless cell? Was he outdoors in a labor camp finishing a day of grueling work? Could he see this same sunset? Was he even still alive?
As she watched the rose- colored hues fade to dark purple and then to black, she heard one voice in her head which became one thought in her
“Useless? How is that useless?” Kris’ heart was pounding , and she was speaking much faster than she realized. “I asked Lena to help me get Mi chael and Jeff released. She gave me this number and said that he could help—that he might help. She must have thought that he would take their case and that he could get them released.”
“What case? Mike and Jeff haven’t been charged with a crime . They’re not entitled to a trial; they’ve just been hauled away into the darkness—just like O’Brien, just like everybody. I’m surprised this Cicchetti guy’s not sharing a cell with them already—if he gets involved in this he will be. But let’s say that for some reason he’s suicida l, and he decides to commit suicide by acting as an attorney for two guys who’ve been arrested for domestic terrorism. Who would he go to? Without the right to a trial, they don’t need a lawyer.”
“No, this is it, Keith. I just know it. You said that Cicchetti has argued cases before the U.S. Supreme Court and won. Maybe he would take Michael and Jeff’s case to the Supreme Court. Maybe he would argue that indefinite detention is unconstitutional—if he did that and he won, then they could be releas ed. And not just them— everybody could be released. The note that Michael sent me said, ‘Fight for the laws of our country.’ This is what he meant.”
“Fight how? Cicchetti argues cases about constitutional law, except that the Constitution apparently doesn’t exist anymore and , in case you’ve forgotten, neither does the Supreme Court.”
“The Supreme Court exists. They just haven’t heard any cases while they’re waiting for their building to be cleaned up since that thing happened with the bomb threat .”
“Oh, come on, Kris. Do you really think that after three years the U.S. government still hasn’t cleaned up one building in Washington D.C. so that the C ourt can meet, while, inexplicably , all of the other buildings around it remain perfectly safe ? That ‘terrorist attack’ was such a stupid, transparent frame-up from the start. There was never any danger from explosives . It was just an excuse to lock up the building and disband the C ourt. This country is full of buildings—the justices could have found one to meet in while theirs was being cleaned if they hadn’t already known what was up. Those gutless wonders in Congress and SCOTUS just stood around looking scared while the President locked up the Supreme Court B uilding and took away all of their authority. I can tell you this—they’ll never meet again. That build ing will sit there closed until it falls down from neglect before another case is heard there.
“So here’s what we’ve really got—a guy who used to argue a dead set of laws nobody respects anymore in front of a group of old has-been judges nobody respects anymore. If you ask me, Cicchetti is about as worthless as the world’s greatest buggy whip maker at the New York International Auto Show.”
Kris walked outside. Everything Keith had said was true. There was no reason to believe that Cicchetti would meet with her. There was no reason to believe that if he did meet with her he would take her case. The U.S. Supreme Court had not met for three years, and the Constitution was no longer governing the country. This was a dead end.
She looked out over the horizon. St. George was such a bleak place. The desert appeared to stretch on forever, and at the far end of it the sun had sunk below the horizon , leaving just a slight rosy tint in the sky. Where was Michael tonight? Was he in a dark windowless cell? Was he outdoors in a labor camp finishing a day of grueling work? Could he see this same sunset? Was he even still alive?
As she watched the rose- colored hues fade to dark purple and then to black, she heard one voice in her head which became one thought in her
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