"The defendant," he began crisply, "is charged on three counts of fraud under Section 31...." "To wit," rumbled Judge Anderson, restlessly. "To wit," snapped the D.A., "the defendant is charged with giving paid performances at a local theatre, during which he purported to demonstrate that he could take over Cyber functions and perform them more efficiently." Walhfred Anderson felt the door closing on him. So this was why the D.A. had requested a change of calendar! What a perfect tie-in with the election campaign! He swiveled to study the defendant. Professor Neustadt was an astonishingly thin little man; the bones of his shoulders seemed about to thrust through the padding of his cheap brown suit. His thinness, combined with a tuft of white hair at the peak of his forehead, gave him the look of a scrawny bird. "Our investigation of this defendant," continued the D.A., "showed that his title was assumed merely for stage purposes. He has been associated with the less creditable phases of show business for many years. In his youth, he gained considerable attention as a 'quiz kid', and later, for a time, ran his own program and syndicated column. But his novelty wore off, and he apparently created this cybernetic act to...." Rousing himself to his judicial responsibility, Judge Anderson interrupted: "Is the defendant represented by counsel?" "Your Honor," spoke up Professor Neustadt, in a resonant, bass voice that should have come from a much larger diaphragm, "I request the Court's permission to act as my own attorney." Walhfred Anderson saw the D.A. smile, and he surmised that the old legal truism was going through his mind: A man who defends himself has a fool for a client. "If it's a question of finances," the Judge rumbled gently. "It is not a question of finances. I merely wish to defend myself." Judge Anderson was annoyed, worried. Whoever he was or claimed to be, this Professor was evidently something of a crackpot. The D.A. would tear him to small pieces, and twist the whole case into an implicit argument for Cyber judges. "The defendant has a right to act as his own counsel," the D.A. reminded him. "The Court is aware of that," retorted the Judge. Only the restraining eye of Oliver Wendell Holmes kept him from cutting loose on the D.A. But one more remark like that, and he'd turn his back on the Justice. After all, what right had Holmes to get stuffy at a time like this? He'd never had to contend with Cyber justice! He motioned to the D.A. to continue with the People's case, but the Professor spoke up first: "Your Honor, I stipulate to the prosecution evidence." The D.A. squinted warily. "Is the defendant pleading guilty?" "I am merely stipulating to the evidence. Surely the prosecution knows the difference between a stipulation and a plea! I am only trying to save the time of the Court by stipulating to the material facts in the complaint against me!"