“Not guilty, your honour.”
He gave a slight head twitch as he entered his plea. His near lobotomization after having undergone years of experimentation on his brain yielded him barely fit to stand trial. Of course, no one believed his story. Not even those closest to him.
He “volunteered” for the project, so in a way, it was his own fault. When one gives consent to mad scientists to open one’s brain, one is, for all intents and purposes, rolling the dice. Although the experiments were quite successful in curing his seizures as it had been touted they would, they did so much more than that. If he were a vehicle or a robot, the experiments might be considered an “upgrade”. In fact, all vehicles today are equipped with the same technology that now resided in his brain – the technology to autonomously control an entity from a distance.
But he was not a vehicle or a robot. He was a human being. Or maybe not, anymore. The acts he was accused of committing, that his body did in fact commit, were not those of a human, but of a violent animal.
Undisputedly, his body committed a criminal act. His weapon was an extension of his fingers, his fingers an extension of his hand, his hand an extension of his muscles, and those an extension of his nervous system. That’s actus reus in his country’s legalese – the action that constitutes half of the basic requirement to be guilty of a criminal offence.
The other half is mens rea – the simultaneous criminal intent that must have occurred. His argument would be that although his hand yielded the weapon, and the signal to commit violence came from his nervous system, his nervous system was not under his control. His brain was not under his control.
It would be an uphill legal battle, but for the moment he had one thing going for himself – this particular courtroom prohibited the use of cellphones. All cellphones had to be checked with the bailiff before entering the courtroom.
This was a relief because he was almost certain that it was through the so-called “5G” cellular network he was controlled.
What he lacked was evidence. Prior to the trial, his request to have his brain scanned was granted by a judge. The scans showed some evidence of his brain surgery, which was completed under the pretense of legitimacy at McGill University. The men who completed the surgeries, although “mad scientists” by his account, were actually top men in their respective fields. They were respected and they were connected. These men were protected.
The hope he had mustered when the judge approved the brain scan was dashed when the scans came back and showed no metallic object embedded in his brain tissue. The “antenna” that he knew resided there must have been made from something non-metallic.
To make matters worse, most of the documentation relating to the clandestine project for which he was a guinea pig was destroyed in the 1970s. It was only through a clerical error that some documentation survived to be declassified in the early 2000s. It was this documentation he would rely on to make his case.
He was part of Subproject 119. Cybernetics. The etymology of the word meant steersman, governor, pilot, or rudder. The official aim of the subproject was to quote-unquote, “make a critical review of the literature and scientific developments related to the recording, analysis, and interpretation of bio-electric signals from the human organism, and activation of human behaviour by remote means“.
His thoughts were interrupted by the judge finishing his address to the court as to how the trial would proceed.
“We will resume trial tomorrow at 9:00 am sharp. Bailiff, please take the defendant into custody.” He banged his gavel.
Robotically, the bailiff walked slowly up the aisle to the front of the courtroom. He swivelled on his heel as if executing a maneuver in a military march. He now faced the defendant. Strangely, he stood at arm’s length from the defendant for several seconds.
The defendant looked puzzled for a moment before a blinking red light on the bailiff’s waist caught his attention. He cast his gaze down to see a cellphone holstered on the bailiff’s belt. He tried to lift his head back up to meet the bailiff’s gaze, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move at all. He remained paralyzed, staring down as the bailiff drew his firearm and put the muzzle against a very specific spot of the defendant’s head.
Neither autopsy report, not that of the defendant, nor that of the bailiff, would reveal any trace of advanced polymer antennas.