The 13TH JUROR

By LESLIE WALTHAM

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Startling Stories Summer 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Excerpt taken from "THE HISTORY OF TRIAL PROCEDURE, 2175 TO 2543, A.D." written by Prof. A. I. Schule, S.E.D.:

"Even then, in the beginning of the twenty-third century, crime per se, itself had ceased to exist. The lower emotions had already been bred out of the people. Envy, hate, avarice and kindred responses were virtually non-existent. Every citizen had a crude type of emotiograph attached to his person, which was examined periodically by the Eye. If any deviation from the norm was observed, the accused was called up for questioning.

"In the absence of actual crime, any emotion which might have precipitated crime was considered unlawful, and men were tried for too much anger, or too little pity. The only purpose of a trial was to ascertain whether sufficient provocation could be established to warrant a given reaction. If the cause, or the incident, justified the emotional response, the defendant was exculpated.

"Trial procedure was extremely simple. The use of the witness was obsolete. Above the defendant's box was a concentric screen upon which his thoughts could be projected. The Questioner would channel the thoughts of the accused into whatever date periods were pertinent, and in that way, the defendant reviewed his own case.

"It is into this category that the celebrated, and very controversial, John Hastings case falls. You all remember that, of course, as the 'cause cêlêbre' of the year 2375 A.D."

No. Amer. Sec., Book Two, p. 675.

One night they watched a column of flame lift a silver speck into the sky. And one night, much later, they heard a voice call into space, saying, "Come back, John Hastings, come back.

"Our inspection has shown serious deviations in your emotiograph. You will turn your rocket and rechart for Earth, John Hastings. For trial, John Hastings."

And they came to the trial. Out of the ripe, wet hills, down from the blistering dome over the city, up through the shafts of the gritty Substructure. They came and stood in lines, wiping the August sweat from their eyes, littering the levels with orange peels as they ate. 

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