He fought the day, his work, all day. He missed quota. The fingers were just a blistering mist before his eyes. He drank water and gagged on it. He paced his cell. He sweated. God! Could a man live like this? "Boy! Say there, boy. Look alive, eh?" Mr. Boswell, the old electronic shyster. It was afternoon, finally, of the everlasting, miserable day. Jay 7 looked up to watch sullenly as, the usual afterthought, Mr. Boswell rolled on off to plug in his cord; and rolled back. Made a noise, a harrumph-type, throat clearing, introductory noise. Mr. Boswell had no throat but he was a believer in certain niceties, form and procedure. "Well now, boy. Let me see, where are we? Oh yes. Bring you up to date. My latest petition for further continuance pending a review of the transcr...." * * * * * Suddenly, it was all too much. Jay 7 was mad, furious. He, in a word, blew his gin-throbbing top. He was on his feet, shaking hands, white-knuckled, gripping bars. "Goddamnit!" he shouted, "Goddamnit, you rotten old fraud, I've had enough, you hear me? I got a by-God-bellyfull enough." [Illustration: Suddenly, it was all too much. Jay 7 was furious with the old electronic shyster. He was on his feet, shaking hands, white knuckled, gripping bars.] "Oh?" inquired Mr. Boswell, mildly. "Enough is enough, eh? But how can we be sure that alternatives...." "All right, all right." Jay 7 wouldn't get anything out of him by shouting, he knew that. He was still tense and shaking but he managed to lower his voice to a tense, confidential whisper of appeal. "But I can't take much more of this. And the uncertainty. I've got to know. How much longer, huh? Please, please, Mr. Boswell, man to man ... when will the trial come? How much longer before we go to court, I--we--get my acquital, huh? Man to man, when can I walk out of here a free man?" "Man to man? You are just a boy, boy. Show it all the time. Man to man? Well ... perhaps it is time you did grow up a bit. So. You want to know when you will leave here a free man? I'll tell you. Never." "Never?!?" * * * * * "Never. Hasn't that been obvious from the start? Look. You know the charges, the evidence against you. In your actions, in your mind, either way you are guilty, boy. Regardless of the degree, you are guilty. The evidence is undeniable. You know better than I how guilty you are." "No!" "You are so eager to leave here? Why?" "Just to get out. To be free. Isn't that enough?" "Nonsense, lad; nonsense. You are doing fine here, just fine. Look at it this way. You are here for the common good, yours and society's, in protective custody. You have made rather a nice adjustment. Quite nice, really. To accept it gracefully, gratefully, is best. And, with me as your counsel, there is no reason why we cannot hope to continue your case indefinitely--for years, for decades. Why...."