Chapter 9 - The Arraignment
While Elena and I optimized the algorithm upstairs, the legal reality of Carter Vance's actions caught up with him in a downtown federal courtroom.
Through a secure live feed streamed onto the lab's secondary monitor, we watched the arraignment proceedings. Carter stood beside a harried public defender, his expensive designer suit looking rumpled and ill-fitting under the harsh courtroom lights. Gone was the arrogant smirk that had mocked me as I faced the drop tower. His eyes were fixed on the polished mahogany floor, avoiding the press gallery entirely.
"Counts one through four: wire fraud, conspiracy to commit academic extortion, reckless endangerment, and the deliberate falsification of federal infrastructure data," the federal magistrate read, her voice echoing coldly through the chamber. "How does the defendant plead?"
Carter’s attorney leaned over, whispering urgently. Carter swallowed hard, his voice cracking slightly when he spoke into the microphone. "Not... not guilty, Your Honor."
A murmur rippled through the gallery. But the prosecutor didn't flinch. He calmly stepped forward, placing a thick stack of digital exhibits onto the podium—including the decrypted voice logs we had salvaged from Carter's phone and the facility server logs proving the intentional rerouting of my wheelchair pallet toward the drop tower.
"The prosecution presents Exhibit G," the prosecutor stated smoothly. "An automated system backup capturing the precise moment the defendant attempted to stage an industrial homicide to cover up grant fraud. We request a remand without bail due to the severe flight risk and clear threat to public safety."
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The magistrate reviewed the digital exhibits for a tense, agonizing moment. When she looked up, her gaze was like chipped ice. "Motion granted. The defendant is remanded to federal custody pending trial. Court is adjourned."
The live feed cut to black. I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, leaning back in my ergonomic chair. The ghost of that terrifying descent down the conveyor line finally felt like it was losing its grip on my mind.
