Forbidden Fruit

I will never forget how small she looked, standing there alone in the middle of the room, the white prisoner’s uniform sagging on tiny shoulders. The clink of her shackles, an unworldly jingle in the silent courtroom.

The Chancellor – the god of this earth and his mighty horsemen sat on their thrones, peering down at her from the high tower of their bench like she was no more than an ant. Perhaps at the time, in the grand scheme of things, she was no more than such – a tiny piston sticking out of place in a great colossal machine.

I was a cog, sitting at my desk, transcribing my Function. There were always two versions of the events that happened in the court room. The video taken for the archive and the version I wrote for a public deemed too fragile for the truth. We know now that it was the justice within this courtroom that was fragile, if not non-existent.

I remember thinking, why? Why the great ordeal of all of this?

The outcome had been in the air the moment she stepped into the courtroom. There could be no other outcome but one, not in this great machine. I wondered if it mattered whether she was guilty or if it was their own agenda that mattered most.

Thinking back, perhaps the leaven within me had already begun it’s work. I felt uneasy as I readied my fingers to type. She just looked so young with her cherub face and big doe eyes. She appeared so out of place.

Whatever she was here for it had to be serious, I reminded, steeling myself to the task at hand.

“Ember De Loughery.” The Chancellor spoke from his High Seat of Justice to address her. His Red robe was a stark contrast to the gold of the other councilors, an embodiment of his status.

My hands paused. Had I heard the name incorrectly?

Ember’s head lifted to look up at the panel, her long hair dropping farther down her back.

The Chancellor picked up the casefile in front of him. “The charges brought against you is Harboring Love and the Solicitation of Love.”

Again, my hands paused over the keys. No one had been charged with crime of love in over 100 years, not since natural conception had been outlawed.

“Councilor Lester, what are the facts of this case?”

I watched as Councilor Lester stood. A man gorged on his own importance, he puffed out his chest as if preparing for a speech. His was the stout stature of a man who’d indulged in more than his share of rations.

“The accused was witnessed indulging in improper fraternization with Evrim Cormack. Upon further examination of their rooms, several incriminating letters sent by the accused were found in Mr. Cormack’s room.

“Copies of the letters can be found in the brief I prepared, as well as a picture of the forbidden item found in the accused’s room, given to her by Mr. Cormack.”

“What pages can the letters be found,” the Chancellor asked as his fingers flipped through the pages in the casefile.

“I believe the letters can be found on pages 22-53.”

The sound of sliding of pages being flipped back and forth filled the room. Intrigued I studied their expressions, searching for any hint of the salacious content residing within them.

“Councilor Lester, for the archive record could you please read, starting from the third paragraph of page 49.” As the Chancellor spoke his eyes lifted to look at me. He was looking for confirmation that I had caught on that the information should not be written into the public record. Compliantly I nodded my head. Censorship of the record was a common occurrence.

“Councilor Astor please place the page on the projector.”

My hungry eyes latched onto the large screen on the far-right wall of the room. A handwritten letter was displayed for everyone to see.

“I don’t care that it’s a crime, I cannot help but love you. You are all that I think about. I don’t mind waking up every day in this suffocating world, knowing that I get to see you, breath the same air you breath, listen to innerworkings of your beautiful mind.” Councilor Lester paused. He had to know that his dispassionate rendition of the words so ardently written sounded strange coming from his mouth. He looked ashamed just reading them. “When you touched your lips to mine, I felt alive for the first time.”

The words were damning, there was no denying that. Glancing back the author, I couldn’t believe the lunacy that had poured from the mind of one so young, but yet I couldn’t deny the beauty within them. Where did she learn such madness? The archive? It was said to be the keeper of the forbidden knowledge that destroyed our world. Only the highest minds could be trusted with it.

The Chancellor opened his mouth to speak, and I began typing again. “Miss De Loughery, did you write the words written on page 49 and give them to Mr. Cormack?”

For a long moment, the Chancellor’s question was met by silence. Surely, she would deny it, I thought.

“Yes…” the word was spoken so softly I almost missed it. Even as I typed, I couldn’t believe her lack of self-preservation. Didn’t she know the seriousness of her charges?

“Councilor Lester, what page is the forbidden item?”

“That would be page 60.”

“Councilor Astor, if you would…”

A picture of the most peculiar shape I had ever seen appeared on the screen.

“Councilor Borg, you are our expert in ancient symbols of the Old World. For the archive, please explain to this panel what we are looking at and what it’s significance is to this case?”

Councilor Borg’s expertise had never been called into court. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard the man speak and now he was going to be sharing a taste of the forbidden fruit. Leaning forward in my seat I waited eagerly.

Councilor Borg stood and adjusted his round spectacles before clearing his throat. His hands slid over thinning white hair.”

“What we see is a locket. People in the old world would wear them around their necks. You see that tiny hinge?” Councilor Borg pointed towards the left of the locket. “The lockets would open and they would keep a picture of someone close to them.” Councilor Borg mimicked the shape of the locket with his fingers. “The shape of the locket was the symbolization of a heart, which was believed to be the source of emotions…especially Love. Also – ”

The Chancellor lifted his hand. “Thank you, Councilor Borg. Your extensive expertise in this matter has been quite illuminating. Moving on for the record.”

My fingers readied to type.

“This is indeed a serious offense. As history has taught us time and time again…Love is irrational, faulty, unpredictable, and dangerous!” The fervor in the councilor’s voice conveyed the fire of his contempt. “Love of a deity, love of man, love of country, love of self…all have contributed to the great catastrophes of history, but most importantly the greatest catastrophe man has ever known.”

“I need not remind this Council how much the Great Nuclear War has cost humanity nor how important it is that the New World Order be maintained.”

Nods of agreement could be seen all around the panel.

“Miss Loughery, recant your professions of love and this court, in it’s mercy, will sentence to 50 years in prison.”

Ember shook her head. “I will not recant.”

The Chancellor’s eyebrows shot up to the top of his forehead, his slack jawed expression mirrored by the colleagues around him. They had grown accustomed to everyone bending to the will of their justice.

“Miss De Loughery, I don’t think you understand. A crime of this magnitude carries a sentence of death,” the Chancellor clarified, speaking as if he were talking to a child.

“I know,” she answered back meekly.

The Chancellor snorted as he sank back into his seat. I’m sure he couldn’t believe that a girl, barely more than a child, was tossing their benevolence back in their faces. He sat there for a moment, the gears of the machine grinding harder in his mind. His eyes narrowed.

“Do you also know that your great love has recanted his love for you. Is that who you’d die for?”

Ember’s shoulders sagged as her head dropped. The anguish on her face I’d seen once on a man who’d been crushed by column.

The Chancellor smiled and sank back in his throne, he’d found victory after all. I could see it in his eyes, something about it churned my gut. I had to look away.

“Recant and you will live, don’t and you will die.”

Ember’s sharp intake of breath was an arrow that surpassed the ears, hitting me in my chore, reverberating within me in a way I’d never experienced before. Her shoulders surged up and down as a guttural wail poured from her lips, her torso folding onto itself as she buried her face into her hands. She stood there, prostrated before their smug contempt, seemingly defeated.

“Miss De Loughery?”

Ember straightened. Her tear stained face still holding the anguish of her lover’s betrayal. “I love Evrim Cormack,” her voice was taunt in her agony.

“What?” the Chancellor snapped as he shot out of his seat. “Did you not hear me? Recant!”

Ember’s shoulders straightened. “I cannot! We tell the lower class to live to work their predetermined Functions for the good of society! But why? Why should they give their lives to society just for the sake of society’s existence? Why should they even care for it’s existence if they cannot even love the society they break their backs to maintain.

“Why should you devote your whole life to living for others when you cannot even love them, cannot even love yourself?”

“Be silent!” the Chancellor screamed.

“I will not!” Ember’s chest heaved with passion greater than his. “Can’t you see what this is doing to us! I’ve seen the archives. People don’t even live as long anymore! We used to live a hundred years!” her voice filled the room. “Without love there can be no life-no purpose! Without purpose there can be no New World Order!

“Ember De Loughery I herby sentence you-”

“Love is patient, Love is kind, Love does not envy-”

“-to death by incineration!”

“-it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking-”

“Take her!”

All at once the guards convened on her tiny frame. Her word echoed in my mind as they dragged her from the courtroom.

“You!” the Chancellor pointed his longer finger at me. “You will adjusted the record! Ember De Loughery recanted!”

He didn’t even know my name… The thought stuck out in neon letters. All of these years and he didn’t even know my name.

“Yes Chancellor De Loughery,” I muttered as I began to type.

“Turn in records to the archive by the end of the day. Court in concluded!”

In a single file they all left the courtroom as if nothing had ever happened.

Standing from my desk I shook my head as I stopped and extracted the record from the machine. It felt heavy in my hands. I couldn’t get her words out of my head.

Without love there can be no purpose!

As I left the room I paused. The archive was to the right. The hallway, somehow, seemed longer than it normally did. Wild thoughts flew through my mind as I glanced down at the record in my hands.

Love is patient, love is kind…

“Fuck it,” I muttered as I turned left. The broadcast room was only a few steps away.

“Hey!” I greeted the Broadcast Programming Technician. My heart began to race as I stepped further into the room.

“The Chancellor asked me to send over tonight’s broadcast.”