One Good Juror

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At first, it looked as if she had lost before she’d even started. The defense attorney finished his argument, took his seat at the opposing counsel’s table, looking relaxed and confident. For a moment, the courtroom was silent; Erin heard only the blood coursing in her own ears as she completed the download of her client’s e-files.

“Ms. Mendel?” the judge said. Erin rose slowly. She had commenced scanning the data, which made it a struggle to vocalize.

“Your Honor, a moment please. I’m still coming up to speed on the case.” She addressed a simulacrum seated behind a raised bench at the end of the courtroom. The judge’s image, of an elderly, bespectacled woman, was larger than life-size in order to increase her presence and authority in the courtroom. But factors like apparent sex and age were largely irrelevant for assessing the temperament of an artificial judicial intelligence. Much more important would be a knowledge of the early cases on which this judge had learned and evolved its decision-making ability. Erin didn’t have time to look up that information.

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