"Computer, Pinnacle, Legal Model X 27, working title, Mr. Boswell. Boy, you are extremely fortunate. You couldn't get a finer legal mind anyplace. Programmed through the State Supreme Court library, shades of interpretation, judgment and emotional factors drawn from the minds of Mr. Hollingsworth and Judge Schintz, both very compassionate men. Circuits overhauled only last month." "I want a real lawyer." "I am your lawyer, boy, by law. Fortunate thing too, for you. I can see your case through. Mr. Hollingsworth--wonderful gentleman, of course--but even now he is, well, not as young as he used to be. Bad thing, to change lawyers in mid-case, eh? You are lucky, boy. You know the human mind is fallible." "You almost forgot to plug in that silly extension cord." "Service men are not what they should be. Some of those back motor circuits of mine, not properly rewired at all. But those are minor areas, non-legal. Why is your cell speaker cut off, boy?" "That thing? It got on my nerves so I cut it off, that's why. So?" "Turn it on at once. You can't afford to lose credits, boy." "Credits?" "Boy ... m-mph. Your circuits are in bad shape, aren't they? You are going to want things, boy. Cigarettes--here's a pack for now, by the way. Books. Other-ah-little extras from the trustees from the women's division. With that mind of yours, from the charge sheets ... you buy things here with your credits and you are going to need them." "How do I get...?" "Do your work. Follow the rules. You earn credits. Turn on your speaker." He turned it on. "You talk like I'd be here forever." "Eh? Oh no. It will be less than that, eh? Eh, eh. Don't worry, boy. I'll be taking care of you. So. This is all the time my programming permits me to give you now. Till Thursday, eh? Good night, boy." The wheel chair rig backed off, unwinking eye-lenses still peering at the man in the cell. The arm pulled the plug, the wire rolled back onto the reel. "Mind the rules," the voice rasped, "earn your credits, eh? Be a credit to the firm. Good night, J 7." The machine rolled silently off. The prisoner stood clinging to the bars of the door. He was thirsty again. * * * * * Time serving, time served. Time.