Portal – Chapter 6

The prosecutor first called the police officers that responded to the call. They testified that they were dispatched to checkout a suspicious person after a drone spotted Michael in gang territory in the middle of the night. Michael had been mildly curious how they found him so quickly so he actually listened to their testimony.

When the JTF agents were called, they proceeded to give the routine story of how Michael was arrested, transported, and processed. They were not asked any questions about his actual crime. Michael wondered how big his cell would be.

When the owner of the convenience store was called to testify, Michael was confused and feeling annoyed. All he did was steal two packages of donuts but according to the store owner, numerous items had been stolen from his store over many weeks. When Eugene asked for police reports about these incidents, the store owner simply complained about the lack of police presence in his area.

The next witness got Michael’s attention. The prosecutor called Fake Bake to the stand. Michael finally learned her name was Stacy Nichols but he thought his nickname was more appropriate for her. She testified that Michael was a violent alcoholic that destroyed the bathroom to their Zeta house. When her boyfriend and his friend tried to prevent Michael from causing further destruction, he assaulted them and slammed both into the wall using telekinetic powers.

Michael laughed a little too loud. He did not remember most of the night of his Reveal, but telekinesis was not one of his powers. Apparently Fake Bake did not know the difference between a Telekinetic and a Teleporter.  The judge glared at him as the witness halted her testimony from his interruption.

“Mr. Larson, you will remain silent,” he scolded.

“Yes sir,” he replied quickly.

“Please continue Miss Nichols.”

She  continued her fantastic story on how the big bad Enhanced Michael smashed the house, disintegrated the front wall, and disappeared into the night. By the time the police arrived, the party guests were scattered and the house required major reconstruction. They had no idea who he was until Sean was contacted by the police after interviewing his girlfriend. By that time, Michael had already been arrested.

On cross examination, Eugene ripped Fake Bake’s story apart. She had to admit the Zetas were serving alcohol to minors. She also admitted that all the witnesses at the party were very intoxicated when Michael was in the bathroom. When Fake Bake stated that the sisters did not know everyone at the party and another Enhanced could have been there, Michael was a concerned. Was someone watching him? Why did they destroy the house?

During the defense phase of his trial, Michael’s sad history from evacuating Southern California after Apocalypse to his grandfather’s death and finally ending up with a drunken mother in downtown Indianapolis was revealed in open court. As Eugene finished, the judge appeared to be frustrated.

“That’s all fine and good, Mr. Stein,” Judge Thompson asked, “but the court has no corroborating evidence. Mr. Larson has no birth certificate, childhood immunization records, or anything. Why does your client not exist until 10 years ago?”

“Your Honor, I have no idea,” answered Eugene frustrated. He obviously was not expecting this question.

The doors swung open in the back of the courtroom. As Michael, Eugene, and the prosecutor turned around, Judge Thompson barked loudly.

“Sir, what are you doing interrupting my court proceedings?”

The first person to enter was a tall, slender man with short grey hair and a hawkish nose. His actual age was nearly sixty but his plastic surgeon had knocked fifteen years off. He matched the government bureaucrat  stereotype perfectly in his fitted black business suit with a bright red tie. The second person through the doors was a shock for Michael. It was his mom. She actually appeared sober. She looked around the room like the mouse trying to find the cat before it pounced. Whenever her glance met someone, her eyes immediately looked to the floor.

“I’m sorry, your Honor,” started the man in the suit. He had obviously rushed to the courtroom as he was trying to catch his breath. “May I approach the bench? I believe I can answer your questions about Mr. Larson’s records.”