n indefinable air of cheapness and falsehood.

"Well, not so good," I said. "They upped my meds this morning, so I'm pretty
logy. Can't concentrate. They said it was to keep me calm while I was
transported. Dirty trick, huh?"

"What?" he'd been browsing through his comm, tapping through what I assumed was
my file. "No, no. It's perfectly standard. This isn't a trial, it's a hearing.
We're all on the same side, here." He tapped some more. "Your side."

"Good," Art said. "My grandmother came down, and she wants to testify on my
behalf."

"Oooh," the fixer said, shaking his head. "No, not a great idea. She's not a
mental health professional, is she?"

"No," I said. "But she's known me all my life. She knows I'm not a danger to
myself or others."

"Sorry, that's not appropriate. We all love our families, but the court wants to
hear from people who have qualified opinions on this subject. Your doctors will
speak, of course."

"Do I get to speak?"

"If you *really* want to. That's not a very good idea, either, though, I'm
afraid. If the judge wants to hear from you, she'll address you. Otherwise, your
best bet is to sit still, no fidgeting, look as sane and calm as you can."

I felt like I had bricks dangling from my limbs and one stuck in my brain. The
new meds painted the world with translucent whitewash, stuffed cotton in my ears
and made my tongue thick. Slowly, my brain absorbed all of this.

"You mean that my Gran can't talk, I can't talk, and all the court hears is the
doctors?"

"Don't be difficult, Art. This is a hearing to determine your competency. A
group of talented mental health professionals have observed you for the past
week and they've come to some conclusions based on those observations. If
everyone who came before the court for a competency hearing brought out a bunch
of irrelevant witnesses and made long speeches, the court calendar would be
backlogged for decades. Then other people who were in for observation wouldn't
be able to get their hearings. It wouldn't work for anyone. You see that,
right?"

"Not really. I really think it would be better if I got to testify on my behalf.
I have that right, don't I?"

He sighed and looked very put-upon. "If you insist, I'll call you to speak. But
as your lawyer, it's my professional opinion that you should *not* do this."

"I really would prefer to."

He snapped his comm shut. "I'll meet you in the courtroom, then. The bailiff
will take you in."