The Case of Daniel Moone

By Saylos

"Ladies and gentlemen, you all understand the gravity of why we are here today," Raymond Foreman's eyes met with all seven members of the panel before him. Some of them he knew, most he did not. The panel comprised four women and three men, a perfect statistical match with the sociological demographic, as per regulations. Each member was seated before a data pad through which all pertinent information was relayed. Raymond tried to remain within protocol and address only the panel, despite the whirring of the cambots as they buzzed past in search of a better angle. They flew past the multicolored ad on the wall for Betatech's shave gel; "Stay strong, shave smart" warned the menacing white letters below the dynamic splash of an image of the can of shaving cream.

"Though it is indeed rare for us to convene under these circumstances, surely a full understanding of the facts of the case of Daniel Moone merit such unparalleled actions. This case is one that is both disturbing in its implications and fascinating in its intellectual value," Raymond glanced at the giant wall behind the panel, at the three colored bars on the screen and nodded gently. He was still in the red with the polling audience, according to the data stream, his current approval rating was holding steady at 78% with only 8% disapproving of what he had said so far. Solid numbers, but far too early in this proceeding to be cocky just yet. The polling audience had been known to turn on a dime and put one in the yellow before one knew what hit them. Public opinion tracking was key in these types of proceedings.

"As I am sure we can all agree that a healthy society is of crucial importance to the advancement of civilization, we are left with only one question; What do we do when a part of our society grows sick? How do we treat a diseased part of our social anatomy? That is what we will address here today, ladies and gentlemen. That is what the case of Daniel Moone will force us to answer." Raymond Foreman took one last glance at the screen on the wall before excusing himself. His approval rating had jumped up to 82%, not bad at all for an opening statement.

Initial polls showed that Raymond had a sharp lead over Moone's advocate, Bryon Greene. Greene only had a 23% favorable rating, while Raymond enjoyed a 64% general rating. Raymond scored highest among men between the ages of 18 and 34, and women between the ages of 18 and 46. His highest marks were received in demeanor, appearance and attitude. Statistically, he was well within the physical norm for a man of his age and socioeconomic background.

Bryon Green, on the other hand, was not. Sixty-eight percent of those polled felt he was too old, while 82% felt intimidated or utterly turned off by him. As Raymond excused himself, Greene rose uneasily, hands trembling as he adjusted his glasses and reviewed his notes. The numbers on the wall began to drop in his category as he cleared his throat. Greene adjusted his plain brown suit, took a sip of water, and approached the panel.

"We can all agree on the importance of a healthy society, there is no debating that," He said. He lost one more percentage points because his accent was too thick. "A robust society is crucial to human evolution. We can also all agree that if a part of the whole is diseased beyond repair that it should be cut out from the whole to avoid further infection. These philosophical points, ladies and gentlemen are not the focus of these proceedings. The true focus here is to determine through careful reasoning whether or not Daniel Moone is diseased enough to merit removal from the whole. To determine whether he may or may not be salvaged, become a productive member of society." Greene coughed dryly into his hand, smiled emotionlessly at the panel, and excused himself.

The initial polls were at 82% Foreman, 6% Greene, 2% undecided.

The first witness, R. Harrison Gantry, Moone's former employer, was called to the stand. He was a smart looking older man with a keen sense about him, or so Raymond observed.

"Mr. Gantry, would you tell this panel what the nature of your business is?" Raymond said.

"Consumer psychology and Product Imagery," He said flatly.

"Could you tell this panel what position Mr. Moone held with your firm?"

"Yes, he was a Consumer Psychology Analyst,"

"Under that title, what were his responsibilities?"

"He was charged with the task of crafting consumer goods imagery to meet the psychology of the consumer. His primary responsibility was to compile statistical data on consumer activity and moods and adjust product image to reflect these trends."

"How would you rate his job performance?"

"He always received an above standard work rating, until five years ago."

"What happened five years ago?"

"His performance dropped."

"What was his work rating prior to his dismissal from your firm?"

"Substandard."

Raymond glanced at the wall, he was still holding steady at 82%. The panel was reviewing their data pads and entering their own notes. The ad-wall had changed, now remarking "Live hard, play hard: Drink Vitalyte."

Greene rose again, paper notes in his hand. He glanced at them, then back at Gantry, licked his lips and paused cautiously before speaking.

"Are you a married man, Mr. Gantry?"

"Yes, fifteen years on January 5^th."

"Fifteen years is quite a milestone, Mr. Gantry. Some might even say it's some what of a statistical deviation."

"Please refrain from editorial commentary Mr. Greene," One of the women in the panel warned. Greene held up his hand in an apology.

"Were you aware that Daniel Moone was a married man as well, Mr. Gantry?"

"Oh course. All of our applicants are screened for statistical purposes."

Greene smiled again at the panel before excusing himself. He gained no percentage points.

Raymond Foreman called all of his witnesses, from Moone's high school English teacher who testified that he demonstrated "a distorted thought process" to Moone's own mother who said that she always knew he was "different" from her other child. As each person told their version of their encounters with Daniel Moone, the points started to pile up in favor of Raymond. Despite this obvious indication of victory, he felt uneasy with Greene's line of questioning. He asked each witness strange questions such as "Can you recall when your first pet died?" and "Describe your mood at the last funeral you attended." The old man had something up his sleeve, but Raymond was at a loss to understand what it was. He would find out soon enough though, the moment of truth was coming, the only one left to take the stand was none other than Daniel Moone.

He walked into the courtroom escorted by three armed protectors. His head was turned to one side in an attempt to hide his face from the circling cambots. He would have been a tall man, were he not hunched over. He would have been handsome were he not so weary of face. The protectors escorted him to his seat and shackled him down, though he made no attempt to test the strength of his restraints. Raymond approached him, not even trying to hide his disgust.

"Would you define your behavior as abhorrent, Mr. Moone?"

"No, Mr. Foreman, though I would describe your behavior as such," Moone did not look up, his head hung low as he spoke, though his words were just as clear as if he had screamed them and when he spoke, there was a murmuring from the panel.

"You have heard the testimony today. Even the words of your own mother have damned you. How can you logically arrive at the conclusion that the whole world is wrong yet you are right?"

"Words have damned me," He said "But logic and numbers have damned you all."

"Answer the question, Mr. Moone. What logical basis do you have to explain your behavior?"

"I've had a bad couple of years," Moone laughed mirthlessly, his body quivered as though he were sobbing.

"What we need to know here, Mr. Moone is if you can ever again be a productive member of society."

"Screw society. Well, screw this one anyway."

"I suppose we can take that as a no then?"

"Take it in whatever way you want it, you will anyway. Or why don't we ask the audience what their opinion is?"

"Are you telling this panel, Mr. Moone, that you will not be rehabilitated?"

Moone looked up, his eyes were fiery, vibrant, angry.

"I am saying, Mr. Foreman, I am already rehabilitated."

Raymond lowered his head to cover his victorious grin. There was no way the old man could pull out of this one. Moone admitted more than he could have dreamed he would and the numbers showed it. 94 to 1.

Greene rose painfully, clearing his throat as he limped to the stand.

"You have heard all these people testify to your mental state, yes?"

"Yes."

"Yet you make no attempts to excuse your behavior nor grieve it. Why is that?"

"Why is emotion abhorrent?"

"Some would argue that emotion not tempered with reason and logic are dangerous things, Mr. Moone."

"I would say the same about reason and logic not tempered with emotion, Mr. Greene. Do you want to know why I refuse to excuse my behavior? I refuse because it's human. For as long as I can remember, I played along. I pretended not to have any feelings. I once believed as most of you do that emotion is a dangerous thing, that it can lead us to commit unspeakable acts, that it was wrong to feel anything, wrong to think anything that was not polled first. I was taught, same as the rest of you about the great unrest of the past, the 20^th and 21^st centuries, so full of emotional destruction. But then, five years ago, when my wife died, everything fell apart, or fell into place, depending on how you look at it.

"After Maggie died, everything seemed so hollow. I followed the grief directions given by my doctor. I read all the books, bought all the products psychologically engineered to help me through my grief. But you know what? All I got in the end was a house full of useless junk. Even with all the material things, the house was still empty. I was still alone. That was when I knew the numbers were wrong, the system is wrong. 'Calver's Enrichment Bars' did not make me 'healthier and happier', the new car I bought did not 'drive my troubles away'. Everywhere I looked, I found not compassion, not emotion, but coldness. 'Work Hard, Play Hard', 'Everyone has value, some more than others', 'If you can't stand the heat, Get out of the kitchen'. That's why my work suffered. It suffered because I couldn't play the game anymore. It suffered because I no longer wanted to be a percentage point, no longer wanted to be a viable consumer, but wanted to be a human being. I am tired of being manipulated, tired of being pushed by public opinion, tired of being programmed. Don't you see we're all just dolls? Pull our string and we say whatever catchy phrase some consumer psychologist has programmed into us. It's so subtle we usually don't even notice it, but after a while, how can we be sure we're even human beings anymore? How can we be sure we're not just products ourselves, packaged, marketed and sold at prices that can't be beat? If this makes me an aberration, then I gladly accept that. At least that's something that can't be put in a box. At least that's something that can't be polled."

There was a silence that seemed to stretch out longer than the oceans. The cambots held steady. The adwall was now selling Gowen's Dishwashing disks, now with "bacteriol" for those tough stains. "With Gowen's, if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen!" The carefully selected panel entered notes in their keypads as they reviewed prior notes for clarity. The numbers were still holding steady.

"We have heard a lot of things here today, ladies and gentlemen," Raymond's eyes met with each member of the panel, then turned to the cambots. Only in the closing monologues, as they were called, were you allowed to address the polling audience.

"A lot of dangerous things. There is no question but that Mr. Moone is a dangerous paranoiac who threatens our very way of life. His extreme behavior of the death of his wife is but the tip of the iceberg. We are an enlightened and reasoned civilization. It has taken centuries for we, as a people, to reach the heights we are at now. Yet this sick and twisted man, this shell of a man, this subhuman neanderthal of a man has the unmitigated gall to question our very way of life. Feelings, ladies and gentlemen. We all have feelings. We feel hungry, we feel tired, we feel angry, we feel happy. We have learned to control these things. If we feel hungry, we eat, tired, we sleep, angry, we might buy a Caster's Ale or a Simsuia Audio deck. We feel happy because we make ourselves happy. This man, however, believes in nothing. You have no true recourse here save for permanent removal of this sickened individual from our healthy and happy society. Thank you and goodnight."

Greene limped to the panel, looked them all up and down, then seemed to ignore the cambots completely as he gave his monologue. Raymond noticed an odd thing from the start of it. This old man was no longer a trembling, decrepit creature, he seemed quite the opposite now. He spoke with a strange assuredness and a candor that Raymond could not even find a single slogan for.

"My age does not play well with the polling audience, but that doesn't matter to me. I stated at the onset that our mission here is to determine whether or not my client is a dangerous disease, an infection that must be removed for the greater good of the whole. Mr. Foreman would like for you to believe that he is, and who can blame him? Who can blame any of you? What my client has said here today is not exactly what anyone wants to hear. This is usually the case with the truth.

"We must preserve a healthy society, a robust society. I say that men like Daniel Moone contribute to the health of a society. My client is not an illness, but a cure. I asked many strange questions here today, but there was a method to my own madness. Can any of you truly say that you felt no pain of loss in your lives? That you have never questioned the notion that emotions should be buried beneath a mound of material possessions? But again, it is uncomfortable to accept that the life we're living may not be the best one. The very nature of our civility is being tested here today, ladies and gentlemen. If we are truly as civilized, truly as advanced as we would like to believe, then we can find a place for the Daniel Moone's of the world. Otherwise, we are forced to face the incontrovertible truth of our own inhumanity.

"We focus on the bad where emotions are concerned. We focus on the hatred and the killing. Yes, it is true that emotion has brought us to the very brink of destruction a thousand times over, but so too has dispassion. Emotion has also freed mankind from bondage, given birth to beauty through art and music that is unmatched by the carefully meticulous nature of today.

"Yes, ladies and gentleman, Daniel Moone is guilty. Guilty of being a human being. Guilty of having feelings. Take care how you vote here today. Take care that you do not vote out your own humanity as well. Humanity, ladies and gentleman, is all we have left to us. Thank you."

Greene took his seat and transformed into a decrepit old man again. The panel chairman announced there would be a brief recess while the polling data was tabulated. During this time, the data would be taken off the screen and rebroadcast in the panel chambers. Just the same, Raymond was starting to worry. Greene had jumped 22 points before the screen came down.

The panel returned nearly fifteen minutes later. The chairman rose and addressed all those present, both real and virtual.

"This has not been an easy case for this panel to deal with. While we are not entirely uncompassionate with Mr. Moone's situation, we must take many factors into account, the polling data as well as the letter of the law and the general well being of society. We are a reasoned and civilized people who operate without malice of forethought or hatred of our fellow species. Reason is the basis of law and the foundation upon which our civilization continues to stand. Mr. Moone, there is no place here for the folly of emotion. For the greater peace and harmony of our civilization, we have no choice but to pass sentence against you for crimes against society. To that end, and as removal from society is the only logical means to ensure you do not cause disharmony, this panel as well as the polling audience hereby sentences you to be remanded to the custody of the Westberry facility for a period of four weeks, at the end of which you are to be put to death. That will be all."

The rest of the panel rose, turned toward the banner on the adwall and raised a hand in salute. The banner held still, yet the ad shone through it clearly, obscuring the flag with a proclamation that FreeWhite tooth paste would "Show no Mercy." Raymond stood up as well and gave the customary salute. He took the time to glance over at Greene who was not saluting. There was an odd thing. Greene seemed to be smiling, despite his defeat. Moone was escorted without incident out of the chamber by the protectors.

When the salute was done, the panel filed out of the chamber. Raymond walked up to Greene for the statutory handshake.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were happy you lost," Raymond said. Greene laughed as he placed his belongings in his worn leather bag.

"This was mine to lose, Mr. Foreman. Besides, numbers never lie."

"Even when they're not in your favor?"

"Tell me something. Do you know what the final vote tally was?"

'It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Oh, but it does. You won by 53%, Mr. Foreman, a commendable effort, but you lost 39%, whereas I gained 45%. People were listening, Mr. Foreman. You may succeed in killing this one, but will you be able to kill them all? Daniel Moone knew this was his fate. He just wanted a chance to change a few people's minds. Apparently some people still think the human race is worth dying for."

Raymond laughed. "Is that how you're going to sell him, Greene? A martyr for the human race?"

"Now don't be silly Mr. Foreman. You're executing him because he is not for sale."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"If I were you, Mr. Foreman, I'd be more worried about sleeping at night."

And Greene walked out of the chamber, not nearly as decrepit as when he entered. Raymond stood there a moment, watching the adwall change behind and through the national banner, from "Show No Mercy" to "American Pride."