At Elijah's outburst, Yolihuani suddenly found herself required to put every bit of effort she could summon -- every part of her better instincts -- to resist the overwhelming urge to smack her own client in the mouth, and perhaps hit him upside the head several more times for good measure. She'd had unruly miscreants for clients before, of course. It came with the territory. There was the client who'd spent weeks before trial uploading holovids bragging about his crimes to the public net, despite her attempts to implore him to see reason (or at least grow a tiny sense of self-preservation). Then there was the client charged with murders in connection with an organized crime ring who'd spent all her time at counsel table directing murderous glares at the members of the jury until each, in turn, sent private notes to the judge asking for excusal and/or police protection for their own safety. And of course, Yolihuani couldn't forget the client who had chosen trial as the perfectly opportune time to go cold turkey off her psychotropic medications, and began experiencing extreme altered states while on the witness stand. (That one led to a mistrial.)
But this ... Elijah Alexander Kenton was a different breed altogether.
Yolihuani had of course had clients who were entirely unrepentant for their appalling deeds, as well as those who'd bragged about their acts of unspeakable violence (but privately to her of course, as their attorney). She'd had clients who clung to despicable and horrifying worldviews and ideologies -- political as well as religious -- and felt the need to dictate whole manifestos to her during attorney-client meetings. But she had not had, until now, a client who felt the need to enter court so bombastically, while shackled, proclaiming that his admitted mass murders (near-genocide, the prosecution was sure to argue) were actually for the good of their homeworld, while laughing openly in the faces of survivors and their families.
But Yolihuani was also highly experienced and practiced in the art of Not Showing Your Feelings, and so instead of throttling her client as she deeply desired, she instead hissed in a sharp whisper, outside the viewing or hearing of the press or spectators, "Be quiet -- you'll have your chance to speak, if you insist on testifying. Later. It's my job to make sure you get to keep that chance."
From then, Judge Acheampong asked if either side wished to make any last-minute motions. Knowing it was futile, Yolihuani asked the court for a change in venue, gesturing about the courtroom as she spoke. "Your Honor, there is neither court nor jury here that could possibly give my client a chance at a fair trial. Mr. Kenton's alleged actions have affected nearly all of Terra, and he deserves an opportunity to defend himself before a neutral tribunal and a neutral fact-finder, which he will not find in this building, or indeed, in this city or on this continent, or on this planet. Mr. Kenton moves for a change of venue to a neutral court offworld pursuant to Terra's treaty powers."
Before Yolihuani could even finish speaking, Acheampong responded simply, "Motion denied, Counsel. Any further motions before we proceed today?" A pause and then. "Well. Are the People ready?"
"Yes, Your Honor," replied Thục-Đoàn, standing to address the court as she spoke. Yolihuani noted that the shorter prosecutor had worn plain black, causing her to resemble a crow with a human head, while Geraldine, her counterpart, had dressed in a deep red pantsuit with a ruby brooch at her throat -- perhaps to symbolize the blood Elijah had shed. It was not something Yolihuani had considered for herself.
"Is the Defense ready?"
"Yes, Your Honor," Yolihuani replied dutifully. As defense counsel, it was her responsibility to advocate as zealously as she possibly could for her client, even if she loathed him entirely herself. And so, advocate she would. She settled into her seat beside Elijah, careful not to look as though she was trying to sit too far from him as she did so.
"Very well then, the People may proceed."
Thục-Đoàn was to begin the prosecution's opening statement. She rose and came from around the counsel table. "Thục-Đoàn Phùng for the People, with my colleague, Geraldine Batchelder-Lockerby." Pausing for effect, Thục-Đoàn then began.
"Khulan Dashbalbar had just celebrated her fifteenth birthday. Two weeks before, she'd discovered latent magical abilities, and her parents agreed to enroll her in a specialized school program for youth with emerging magical abilities just outside Wing City." As Thục-Đoàn spoke, a holo-image of Khulan projected throughout the courtroom, showing a young girl with long, dark curls, a sloped forehead, and wide, muscular build. Khulan was smiling there. "Before enrolling in magical school, Khulan played intramural basketball, because she'd repeatedly failed the tryouts for varsity, and sang in the school choir, though she'd never successfully auditioned for a solo. She thought magical school might be her chance to shine. Khulan's younger twin sisters were excited for her acceptance, but disappointed when the Dashbalbars announced they'd purchased tickets to the Masquerade Ball, and would only be bringing their oldest child. The twins, who were nine, were too young."
Thục-Đoàn strode purposefully about the courtroom as she spoke, keeping attention on Khulan's projected image rather than on her own visage. "The twins, Altani and Altalun, turned out to be the lucky ones. At the Masquerade, Khulan took a cup of fruit punch -- the virgin kind, as she knew her parents would be gravely disappointed if she snuck an alcoholic drink too young. Little did she know that once she drank the punch, her body would begin to vibrate. Her brain began to expand, causing severe pain in an instant -- what doctors describe as a thunderclap headache, typically a sign of an imminent stroke or aneurysm. Khulan convulsed so badly that her new dress ripped in several places. She'd only been to an elementary class on magic for developing users, but she would have known that the power she felt moving through her body, using it merely as a mortal vessel, was supernatural and beyond this portal. She would not have known what to do about the unseen forces tearing her skin and bones apart, somehow causing her parents catastrophic burns and contributing to a notable earthquake -- tremors in the tectonic plates beneath Wing City -- with its epicenter beneath the site of the Masquerade itself. The last thing Khulan would have seen would have been her parents' untimely demise, and her, imbued with untold, uncontrollable power, yet entirely powerless to do anything about it."
One of the jurors brought a hand to his face as Thục-Đoàn spoke.
"By the time the bodies were uncovered in the rubble, the Dashbalbars' faces were unrecognizable. Altani and Altalun, too young to go to the Masquerade, were tasked with planning funerals and burials for their mother, their father, and their sister. They did not know enough to request closed caskets." Thục-Đoàn bowed her head, lacing her fingers behind her back, as the projected holo-images showed the gravesite -- the bodies hidden in the simple caskets. "It would have been tragic enough if Khulan's had been the only death caused that evening, but no, she was only one of many. One, with a thousand others slaughtered beside her." The names, and a photo array of faces (images chosen to feature the victims when smiling and relaxed), appeared on screen, of each of those who'd died at the Masquerade. "And it would have been a national tragedy if those who suffered and died at the Masquerade Ball were the only ones to die needlessly from the contaminated drinks. But instead, in the days and years to follow, millions more were murdered in artificially instigated earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and tsunamis stemming from uncontrolled magic wreaking geological and meteorological havoc across Terra once Elysium entered the black market."
Thục-Đoàn gestured, and the holo-images were replaced with even smaller images in a larger array, the faces nearly invisible they were so small, the number impossible to count. The tiny images were arranged carefully so that together, they presented a facsimile of the original portrait of Khulan that Thục-Đoàn had displayed. "The cause of death was a new and potent chemical compound called Elysium. It is designed to remove all natural and supernatural limitations on a magical user's magical abilities, such that only extraordinary measures are capable of limiting the destructive power of this unleashed magic. One might wonder why or how Elysium suddenly appeared in the drinks served at the Masquerade, or how years later, it appeared throughout Wing City's public water supply, affecting untold thousands upon thousands of magically inclined beings. In the weeks to come, we will show that only one individual -- and one individual alone -- was responsible for the near worldwide chaos and borderline genocide that followed. We will show that only Mr. Elijah Alexander Kenton possessed the motive, capability, and opportunity to inflict this wholly manmade disaster upon our world, and that Mr. Kenton alone is responsible for these mass murders and mass destruction. We will show that Mr. Kenton synthesized the Elysium, tainted the Masquerade drinks and the Wing City public water supply, and designed his plan methodically to maximize the destruction and deaths that would occur from it. And while Mr. Kenton's attorneys may try to argue -- skillfully even -- that he is not responsible for his actions or their natural consequences, we will ask you, members of this jury, to hear the evidence before you, and to convict Mr. Kenton for his crimes against sentience."
