“Let’s see that hand,” someone said behind her. She turned and saw a doctor she didn’t recognize.
    “Hi!,” he said cheerfully. “I’m Daniels.” He was big and well-built. Not what a doctor should look like.
    “Tech?” she asked.
    “Nope. Duty doc.” He was turning her hand over and examining the abrasions. “I want HAROLD to look at this.”
    “Harold?” Another doctor?”
    “Exam unit. Follow me.”
    He led her inside the infirmary and started whistling. His cheerful nature didn’t help her feeling of hopelessness. He ushered her into the examining room. It was dimly-lit with diagnostic machines surrounding an examining table.
    “Hop up on the table and lie down.”
    “Why? It’s just my hand.”
    “I want a complete look, young lady. If what M’Clenahan says is true, you might have more damage than your hand.”
    “He didn’t touch me. I didn’t let him.”
    Daniels looked at her sternly. “Ever hear of trauma?”
    “I decked him,” Bradley objected.
    “And got your adrenaline flowing quite nicely, I suspect,” Daniels countered. “If that isn’t trauma, I don’t know what is. Now do as the doctor ordered and hop up there.”
    “But...”
    “Do it!”
    She climbed up and lay down.
    Something beeped. She looked curiously at Daniels, who took a quick look at the instruments and said, “I’ll be back in a moment.”
    Bradley started to sit up as he turned to go. Without looking back, he ordered, “Lie down, Ensign. It’s only the comm link. Give HAROLD a chance to do his thing.”
    Bradley complied and lay back as he left the room. She stared off into space. There was something relaxing about the room . . . It was big and spacious, like the ship they were on. From where she lay, she couldn’t see the instruments. For now, it was just her, the table, and the quiet room with its subdued lighting.

    She realized that Daniels was back, with M’Clenahan and someone else. Older, grim-faced.
    “Hi!” Daniels said with the same cheerfulness he used earlier. “This is Doctor Lukens.”
    Lukens nodded, and said, “You’ve been through a bit of trauma, Ensign. Your hand will heal, but we need to run you through a rehab program.”
    “I’m all right,” Bradley said and started to sit up. Surprisingly, they let her.
    Lukens replied, “That’s what all your pre-Johaicom counterparts said. And we ended up with a planet full of unbalanced personalities.”
    “What about Matthews?” M’Clenahan asked the Doctor.
    “Matthews be hanged,” Lukens told the Commander. “Sure, he’s committed trespass, but until she told him, he may not have known it.”
    “The law’s the law,” M’Clenahan objected. “And... where a mating contract is involved, there is no allowance under the Johaicom laws.”
    “I’m mated,” Bradley said helpfully.
    “And he still wanted to wash your hair?” Lukens asked, a note of curiosity in his voice. He watched her closely.
    Bradley shivered involuntarily.
    “See?” Lukens remarked, “you need a psyche run.”
    Bradley sucked on her lower lip.
    “Another sign,” Lukens added.
    Bradley was confused. Almost anything she might do – a tear rolled down her cheek – Damn! she swore to herself.
    “Uh-huh,” Lukens said. “All involuntary, according to HAROLD.” He turned away and started for the door.
    Bradley stared after him. He was so insensitive. Why? What had she done?
    “Smile, kiddo,” Daniels told her as he watched Lukens, a slight frown on his face. “You can get down now.”
    Lukens spoke from the door. “Go ahead and start her, Daniels. She might as well know.”
    Know? Know what? She looked at Daniels, who smiled.
    “Don’t let old Lukens get to you. This is his last tour of duty before retirement and he’s just . . .” He shook his head and started for the door. “Come on,” he said.

    Daniels showed Bradley and M’Clenahan to his office. It was small and neat, with a computer on one side of the massive desk. He offered them chairs and keyed the computer into activity. A wall display lit up and a young man’s face appeared on it.
    “Recognize him?” He asked.
    Bradley shook her head.
    M’Clenahan asked, “Isn’t that the ‘it’ child?”
    “Chato Demtris,” Daniels said, nodding. He turned to M’Clenahan. “‘It’ child is a bit much, Commander.”
    “Sorry, Doctor, but that’s what most of us call him.”
    “Understandable, but still deplorable.” He looked at Bradley, who was confused. “Demtris was responsible for the way we view our laws of trespass and the training we’re all supposed to get as kids.” He looked at M’Clenahan. “Evidently, some slip through the cracks. Matthews, for example.”
    Bradley stared at the picture while Daniels continued. “Demtris lived a couple of centuries ago. When he was eleven years old he was convicted of raping a thirteen-year-old girl. The original laws dictated that anyone convicted of committing a sexual act with a mated person or without a valid dating agreement would be punished by removal of the sex organs.”
    Bradley knew all about the laws. Jeremiah Johaicom’s religious movement became prominent about six decades after the beginning of the space era. When society finally became alarmed with the high numbers of sex crimes and uncontrollable, sexually-transmitted diseases, Johaicom suggested the initial solution: sterilize the criminal. Laws were passed and all rapists not convicted of other crimes were sterilized and released.
    However, that didn’t completely solve the problem. As a further deterrent to all forms of rape, and to prevent any possibility of repeat offense, the Johaicom penalties were made harsher – remove the offender’s sex organs. To solve the problem of date-rapes, William Norris, a politician from a colony world, proposed a pre-date agreement, in which dating couples had to agree in advance to any sexual activity. The same harsh penalties were imposed upon anyone breaking the dating agreement.
    As Bradley thought this over, she admitted to herself that Matthews hadn’t raped her, though she didn’t know how far he might have gone. Nor was she sure about how the laws applied to her case. “Matthews?” she asked.
    Daniels replied, “He didn’t have sex with you and because he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been convicted under the original laws. That’s where Mr. Demtris had such an impact.”
    “Why? Because he was so young?”
    “No. After some court-ordered psyche tests, they decided that though Demtris was only eleven, he knew what he was doing. So...” He shrugged.
    Bradley nodded. “He was neutered,” she said.
    “A nice way to put it,” M’Clenahan commented dryly.
    “How did that affect the laws?” Bradley asked.
    Daniels replied, “At the time, it didn’t. But five years or so later, Mister Chato Demtris did something that almost got him executed. He started a campaign against the laws, portraying himself as the victim.”
    “Oh?” Bradley asked in surprise. Treason against established planetary laws was a capital offense.
    Daniels continued, “During one of his public speeches he got the audience worked up and then exposed himself. When he asked the shocked audience what he was, they nearly rioted and he and many others were arrested. That captured the attention of the world and the resulting outcry almost succeeded in overthrowing both the Norris and Johaicom laws, or at least the punishment involved.”
    “During his trial, Demtris defended himself by stating he hadn’t been properly educated, society failed to deter his acts, and failed to keep him from his – as he put it – foolishness.”
    Daniels paused and thought a moment. “As you know, people charged with treason can take the stand in their defense. Once they do, no one can interfere until they finish. Demtris took advantage of this and attacked society. Because of the publicity surrounding his case, it was broadcast throughout the world and tight-beamed to all the colonies. His case isn’t widely publicized any more because of what went on.”
    “Suppressed?”
    Daniels smirked. “Not really. It’s not widely taught, but we have to know about it because of cases like yours.”
    Dr. Lukens chose that moment to walk in. “Where are you?” he asked as he grabbed a chair from its wall compartment.
    “Getting into the Demtris trial,” Daniels replied.
    “Got to the advertising yet?”
    Daniels shook his head. “I just started to explain about the circumstances in a trial for treason – the defense issue.”
    Lukens snorted. “Key up record DM-428.”
    As Daniels complied, Lukens turned to Bradley. “Demtris had the stand. He claimed the entertainment of the time taught him that he had the right to do whatever he wanted with the opposite sex. He claimed that they – the women – wanted it, even asked for it.”
    “Asked for what?” Bradley interrupted.
    Lukens acted irritated. “They wanted to be sexually attacked – raped.”
    Bradley stared in disbelief. “They did?”
    Lukens nodded. “That was the message being sent and that’s why the trial isn’t widely known. Too many people would want to see the evidence. Today, most of it is illegal to possess. Toss me the remote keypad,” he ordered. Daniels complied, giving him a wireless keypad from one of his desk drawers. Lukens keyed in some instructions and the display of Demtris darkened.
    “Watch the advertisement,” Lukens said as he pressed a key on the pad. The wall display lit up with a short drama between a man and a woman. Both appeared to be toying with the other in suggestive ways. Bradley got the impression that selling the product – coffee – was almost secondary to the short and incomplete drama.
    Lukens gave the keypad back to Daniels, who put it away. “This was part of a series of advertisements, each showing a bit more of the relationship. What’s your impression?” he asked Bradley.
    She shrugged. “I don’t see anything wrong with the piece.”
    “That’s what many people thought. Relationships are okay, aren’t they?”
    “Yes. That’s how we get to the point of forming a contract. We have to meet and get to know each other.”
    “Did these two know each other?”
    “I got the impression that they started out as complete strangers.”
    “And the man?”
    “He came on rather strongly.”
    “Was either mated?”
    Bradley shook her head. “I couldn’t tell. She was sending some real mixed signals. She had that coy smile, but acted uncomfortable to his advances and kept putting him off – even to the point of wanting to send him home with the coffee.”
    “What did he want?” Lukens asked, looking at his fingernails.
    “The man? Sex, I suppose.”
    “You suppose? How would you have reacted to his advances? Would they have been welcome?”
    Bradley shook her head a second time. “No, of course not. Like I said, she acted like she wanted to get rid of him.”
    Lukens looked up. “Which was Demtris’s point. The advertisement suggested that the man could do what he wanted, even if she didn’t want him to do it. What was the thing that stopped him?”
    Bradley sat back. This was getting ridiculous. She felt like a school kid. “The doorbell rang and a man was there.”
    “Suggesting?”
    “Her mate had come home. The man’s reaction was typical.”
    “Under the Johaicom laws?”
    “Uh,” Bradley hesitated.
    “What would have been the situation, Ensign?” Lukens asked.
    “The man would have been guilty of trespass,” she responded.
    “Yes, but that wasn’t true during Demtris’s time.”
    Bradley thought for a moment. “Wasn’t he breaking a mating contract? By forcing himself into the situation?”
    “What evidence do you have that that was what he was doing? Now, think, Ensign. He hadn’t actually asked her to go to bed with him.”
    “Yes, but he wouldn’t leave. And he was certainly suggesting through his actions that he wanted a sexual relationship.”
    “Is that kind of relationship legal today?”
    “Not at all. He would be guilty of trespass and at this point, even she might be charged.”
    “What about the advertisement?”
    “The advertiser could be charged, as well.”
    “Now, yes. But that wasn’t the case then. The advertisers used this type of liaison as an attention grabber, something to promote their product.”
    “Though it suggested violating the law?”
    “Yes, which was something Demtris was starting to prove. He claimed this advertisement was particularly seductive. And it wasn’t unique. Many others were more blatant.”
    Daniels commented, “That was one screwed up society.”
    “What were some of the more blatant examples?” Bradley asked.
    Lukens shook his head. “Sorry, Ensign, but I don’t have any samples. All we know is that the court record declares that many products were designed to attract attention to the user. The products included almost everything – cosmetics, clothing, soaps and other hygienic products, soft drinks, junk food, even transportation – ground cars. Demtris also showed that, while a few men’s magazines told men how to attract women, they were not nearly as popular as those that dealt primarily with,” Lukens cleared his throat, “pornographic material.”
    Bradley looked at him.
    “Porn, for short. It showed the female in various states of undress.”
    Bradley frowned. “What’s wrong with that? Back to nature movements are legal. Anyone can visit a retreat.”
    “Almost all of them were exploitive,” Lukens replied. “Some even went so far as to illustrate bondage and human cruelty, along with explicit sex.”
    Bradley understood the irony of the situation. “It was out of hand, wasn’t it?”
    Lukens went on. “It was odder than that. Many magazines that carried the advertisements often carried very serious articles instructing the readers how to avoid sexual harassment and bad situations. Then in another article they would tell men or women how to exercise, pose, dress, or fix their hair to be, uh, sexually attractive to the opposite sex. Demtris pointed this out to the court.”
    Bradley frowned. “Were there any good advertisements?”
    Lukens nodded. “Many didn’t have any sexual connotations at all. But anything that had to do with fashion, personal appearance, or lifestyle tended to send the wrong message.”
    “Demtris also presented hour after hour of entertainment programming – both drama and comedy – that talked about or showed one or more violations of the laws. He stated that only five percent of entertainment avoided sending such messages. Everyone was being subjected to messages that said it was okay to violate other people’s rights. Treat them as objects and do what you want – rape, maim, kill, terrorize – none of it seemed to matter.”
    “Ugh,” Bradley commented, “that’s not right!”
    “Of course not, but one of the arguments of the time was that people should have freedom to set their course. Their right to choose must not be violated.”
    “Wasn’t the right to choose important?”
    “Not when you could lose everything you’ve worked for. Your freedom, for instance.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Freedom and choice are different things, Ensign.”
    “Huh?”
    “By making the wrong choices you can forfeit your freedom. Or, as Demtris pointed out, deny others their freedom.”
    Bradley understood. “Freedom is not the license to do anything you want.”
    “Precisely. To prove that, Demtris used a previously-unknown group of attorneys to introduce a massive counter suit.”
    “Counter suit? In a treason trial?”
    “For want of a better term,” Lukens replied, “yes. He had the stand and that gave him the right. His counter suit named the planet, its inhabitants, its colonies and their inhabitants – the whole of society – as defendants. He alleged that they were all guilty of high treason against both the Johaicom and the Norris laws. Precedent already established that if someone else causes you to commit a crime, then they bear the same burden of guilt. He used legal logic to illustrate that society caused him to commit the original crime of rape and that his subsequent punishment had led him to commit the alleged treason against the laws. Since society wasn’t indicted for the original crime, his counter suit was successful.”
    “What happened then?” Bradley asked. “Did they let Demtris go?”
    Daniels responded. “Yeah. His counter suit ended the case against him.”
    Lukens continued, “After that, the industry cleaned up its act and the politicians passed the laws that now determine verbal and physical trespass. These laws also cover messages that represent violation of the Johaicom and Norris laws. If entertainment deals with a relationship, it must present it in a legal setting or clearly show that the illegal relationship is against the law and punishable.”
    Lukens paused and looked at her. “Censorship. Pure censorship, Ensign.”
    “We lost the ability to express ourselves freely,” Daniels admitted. “But we gained freedom from abuse and gave our laws enough power to protect that freedom.”
    Bradley nodded. “I understand. What about Mister Matthews?”
    “What do you think, Ensign?” Lukens asked.
    Bradley sat and thought. He had violated her privacy. His comments, touching her hair – had violated her right to be free from that kind of abuse.
    Lukens stood. “Don’t make your decision now, Ensign. First, we finish your rehab. This session helped you understand what you were subjected to. Next, we help you deal with that. Then you can decide about Matthews.”
    Bradley agreed. “And the other sessions?”
    “Standard profile assessment,” Lukens said, “with a psyche element that will help you deal with what happened.”
    “What about the Captain?”
    Daniels responded, “She and the ship’s Chief Medical Officer will learn about it through our medical log.”

    Over the next ninety days Bradley attended the rehab sessions. She sat in front of a computer and responded to the questions that flashed on its screen. The doctors controlled the environment through a holographic imaging system that could change the size, shape, and mood of the room, along with the temperature and humidity. It could appear to be out on a planet’s surface or in a crowded room. Although the people looked real, Bradley didn’t interact with them. She became more and more confident as the sessions ground to a close.
    But the final session was different. Matthews was projected on the wall in front of her! And he was coming toward her.
    For a while, she thought she was watching the security recording of their encounter, but it didn’t include her slugging Matthews. Instead, it played out like that horrible advertisement she saw in Daniels’ office. The panic of the first encounter came back as she watched him talk her into going with him to his isolated cabin on the visitors’ deck.
    Shock replaced the fear as she watched him force her to strip and then kneel in front of him. She felt her face grow warm.
    Damn you, Matthews... She reacted by banging the keypad with her fist. The scene flashed back to her encounter with him in the hallway and she realized she was going to witness the event again. This time she yelled out, “Hit him, you fool!” and, in surprise, saw herself do just that.
    Unlike the actual event, she didn’t leave the area afterward. Instead, the scene froze with her standing there, saying nothing. Suddenly, Bradley realized she was in control, and asked, “Computer, what options do I have?”
    “ALL OPTIONS ARE AVAILABLE. THE PROJECTION WILL ILLUSTRATE THE RESULTS OF YOUR INSTRUCTIONS. VERBAL DIRECTIONS ARE ACCEPTABLE.”
    “Kick him,” she ordered, then hastily added, “No, belay that response,” as the image of herself started to move forward to carry out the command. She noticed something before her image returned to its defiant stance. Matthews had cringed and moved to protect himself against the blow. The man was a coward!
    “You are a creep, Matthews,” she said slowly and deliberately. “You prey on little old ladies and children. Shame on you.”
    He stared back at her.
    She frowned as she fixed her eyes solidly on him. “Mister Matthews, you’ve given me a choice.”
    “And what is that?” Matthews responded.
    “I can press charges against you for trespass. You know that, don’t you?”
    Matthews just smiled. He was infuriating.
    “Computer,” she ordered.
    “READY,” the computer responded.
    “Explain to Mister Matthews what the consequences of the trespass charges will be.”
    “YOU SHALL BE COMMITTED TO RAGNORUK FOR A PERIOD OF SEVEN AND ONE-HALF DRAC YEARS FOR EACH TRESPASS.”
    “What is Ragnoruk?” Matthews asked.
    “RAGNORUK IS A PRISON PLANET THAT HAS A GRAVITY DOUBLE THE DRAC STANDARD. DRACS SENTENCED TO RAGNORUK CANNOT DO PHYSICAL LABOR AND USUALLY DIE WITHIN FIVE YEARS OF ARRIVAL.”
    Bradley narrowed her eyes and said, “Matthews, you committed two acts of trespass against me. First, you touched my hair in a very suggestive way. By itself, it might be innocent, but you completed the trespass by suggesting you wanted to wash my hair.”
    “Help you,” he corrected.
    “Whatever,” she replied, uninterested. She approached his image. “What fascinated you about my chest?” she asked, frowning at him.
    He stared back in silence.
    “You were undressing me with your eyes, you bastard! That, if proven, is another trespass.”
    “If proven,” Matthews repeated.
    “It doesn’t matter because you backed me against the wall and reached toward me with full intention of violating my privacy. That’s the second trespass!”
    “Hard to prove. You struck my hand away and then hit me.”
    Just like a coward. “As was my right,” she said, feeling anger, but she didn’t care. “That action alone was in my defense, proves your second trespass, and clears me of any wrongdoing on my part.
    “By the way, can you live fifteen years on Ragnoruk, Mister Matthews?”
    He looked at the floor, very somber.
    “Well?” she demanded, feeling triumphant over him.
    He shook his head.
    She stood back and stared at his image. She didn’t notice that her image had disappeared. She was playing out a computer-controlled reality.
    “Now . . . “ she added.
    He looked up at her, fear in his eyes.
    “Do you still want to wash my hair? Remember,” she said before he could respond, “I’m still mated and I’ve told you that I bathe alone.”
    She paused and waited. She felt good about herself. She had the upper hand. It was his decision.
    Finally, he shrugged. “It was just a thought,” the image said.
    She smiled and asked, “Not a very good one, was it?”
    The image faded and the room lighting became normal. The computer beeped and displayed, “SESSION ENDED.”
    The door opened and Lukens walked in. Sitting on the edge of the desk, he said, “Congratulations, Ensign. You’ve completed your sessions.”
    She nodded. She knew that the computer had based its responses on Matthews’ real psyche records. He was a creep and a coward, and no longer a threat to her.
    As she turned to go, Lukens stopped her. “Just a minute, Ensign. There is one other matter.”
    She hesitated as he continued, “I want you to bring charges against the man.”
    Bradley looked at the Doctor. He was serious. “Why?” she asked.
    “The law must be satisfied.”

    The Captain sat behind her desk and looked at Matthews. Lukens and his staff had been thorough in presenting all the evidence. The Captain would have no choice.
    Bradley held no bitterness, no fears, no ill feelings toward Matthews – only a nagging regret about the trial and the penalty it might impose. She studied Matthews’ face as he sat waiting for the Captain’s verdict. He remained solemn, just as he had throughout the trial. He didn’t seem to be the same person she saw in the recording. Maybe it was the psyche rehab she had been through.
    She shrugged to herself. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important. Matthews had committed trespass. No one could argue with the recording. The Captain held up a plastisheet and cleared her throat. She read her verdict, “James Matthews, you have been found guilty on two trespass charges under the Johaicom law.”
    Bradley watched him for some reaction. He stared ahead, no signs of emotion on his face.
    “For each charge, you are hereby committed to seven and one-half years on Ragnoruk.”
    His expression didn’t change.
    “That’s a total of fifteen years, or the remainder of your natural life, whichever comes first.”
    Bradley watched the Captain press her thumb on the sensitized field under her printed name, making the record final and irrefutable. “Court adjourned,” the Captain finished.
    Bradley thought of the response the computer had given to the Matthews image in the psyche rehab room. No human survived on Ragnoruk more than five years, much less fifteen.
    As they led Matthews away and the reality of his sentence sank in, she wondered if they had done the right thing.