The Transporter Trial

[This is a draft. Details will change over the next few days. – the author]

Call me Earl. My birth certificate bears the name Erlenmeyer, Erlenmeyer Flask. I was born on April 1. My Dad, a chemical engineer with a warped sense of humor, suggested Erlenmeyer to my mother. She thought it sounded nice and so I got stuck with the name. During the early school years there was no problem, but as I got older, I was teased not infrequently.

I consult on various odd jobs in the computer industry to support Charlie and me. But my first joy is writing for the Casual Observer, a struggling Atlanta newspaper that should have closed its doors years ago, but somehow hangs on. If you haven’t heard of the Casual Observer, you’re not alone, neither has anyone else. They were the first paper to publish on the web, beating the San Jose Mercury News by a month. Once, the Drudge Report linked one of my articles, but only for 15 minutes. Poor Drudge was the victim of a hacker, and Drudge’s techies quickly fixed the problem. I get paid a percentage of the profits for each paper I have published articles – but since the Observer rarely has a profit, I’m rarely paid. When I’m paid, it’s peanuts. The owner/editor is constantly complains of my work. So why don’t I find another newspaper to work at? Three reasons. The first is that my editor is right – I am a lousy writer. I don’t know an adverb from an adjective, my verbs have declared all out war with my nouns, and I write in boring passive voice. Secondly, no other newspaper will hire me, even as an intern, even in the mailroom, even to clean toilets. Finally, I get press credentials with the Observer, which, with a little bit of moxie, a little bit of planning, is my ticket to all sorts of interesting places and events.

Oh yes, Charlie. Charlie is my cat. Well, that’s not accurate. No one owns a cat. Charlie is a different sort of cat, but then everyone views his or her cat as being unique. But Charlie is different. But this account isn’t about Charlie. It’s about Dr. Peter Stone, the CEO of Q-Corp, and the outcome of his murder trial.

Remember StarTrek? Remember the transporter in StarTrek? Peter and his talented scientists and engineers at Q-Corp built a transporter. A real, operating transporter. With great fanfare, Peter Stone personally flicked the switch and transported an employee through it, successfully. Peter hyped Q-Corp’s transporter in Popular Science the month before, which included details that troubled the District Attorney. In the Popular Science article, Peter wrote that transporting actually involved transporting the state of all the atoms of a person to another location – essentially recreating the person, and then quickly destroying the original person. The original had to be destroyed or else you’d have two identical people. Within a week of transporting the first human, the grand jury returned an indictment of first-degree murder against Peter Stone.

The trial was held in Cobb County, northwest of Atlanta. It was the biggest news in the county, ever. Q-Corp’s headquarters is located in Cobb County in the Galleria area near the crossing of Interstates 75 and 285. Its gleaming white tower stood overlooking I-75; with its cobalt blue fuzzy circle logo atop the building surveying the surrounding pine covered rolling hills. The logo, an image of a Bose-Einstein Condensate, symbolized Q-Corp’s business, applying quantum physics to practical business and consumer products. What is a Bose-Einstein Condensate? It is a small collection of atoms, trapped and chilled so cold and so close to absolute zero (the theoretical limit of how cold things can get) that they merge into one super atom. If you could see it, you would see a fuzz-ball the size of a golf-ball, or even colder, the size of a baseball. Q-Corp patented a way to put these condensates into relatively cheap instruments (cheap, if you’re a Fortune 100 company, or a well endowed university, or the Federal Government). Why put these into instruments? Well, that’s another story.

Dr. Peter Stone got his first PhD in physics at MIT. Peter is the epitome of charisma and one of the premiere evangelists of science. Where his peers would sneer at Popular Science, Peter wrote a regular column explaining the esoteric features of science to the unwashed masses, with a not so hidden agenda of promoting Q-Corp and himself. Peter was often seen on PBS science programs and specials, the talking head for any TV news event that needed a scientist, and a frequent witness at congressional hearings on anything technical. He was a smooth P.T. Barnum who promoted the Q-Corp big top.

I always sat in a front row seat in the spectator section of the trial courtroom, thanks to my Observer press credentials and a timely article I wrote the previous month. It was on the middle school football team that the court clerk’s son played on, and the vital leadership role he played on the team. I estimated the Observer’s circulation rose 10% on that one issue as the proud parents sent copies of the paper to all their friends and relatives. I actually got paid $3.47 for that article, the first payment that year, and the second highest payment for any of my articles. The Atlanta Journal, CNN and the New York Times reporters could not figure out why I got such preferential treatment over them. I wasn’t about to give away my few and precious little trade secrets I had. Throughout the trial I sat next to Detective Dennis Granger of the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, one of the principle investigators in the case. During the jury selection, Agent Dennis and I talked about the case and life in general during the breaks.

“I don’t get why Dr. Stone transported his employee the way he did.” I said to Dennis after the first day of jury selection. “It looks like Peter Stone begged to be prosecuted. With his public statements, his articles on the transporter, he painted a big bull’s eye on himself.”

“I know.” Dennis responded. “Peter is not stupid. I don’t know what his angle is.”

The defense and prosecution agreed prior to the trial to all sorts of facts. Peter flipped the switch that transported Roger Smith, an employee of Q-Corp, from the transporter transmitting station to the receiving station some 50 feet away. In doing this, a copy of Roger Smith was quantumly created at the receiving station in 250 milliseconds, followed by the rapid destruction of the original Roger Smith 20 milliseconds later. It all happened in an instant, in a twinkling of an eye. Peter premeditated this, knew better than anyone else what was happening. The real question the jury would have to settle, was Roger Smith actually killed in the process. Indirectly, they had to decide whether the person who identified himself to be Roger Smith was really Roger Smith, or just a copy of Roger Smith.

The prosecution brought several expert witnesses to the trial. The first was Dr. Frederick Martin, a medical professor and practicing physician from Emory University in Atlanta. He testified that since the original Roger Smith was destroyed, that constituted killing a human being. The defense tried to have Dr. Martin admit that the current Roger Smith had as much claim of being Roger Smith as the person did who entered the transmitter prior to being teleported.

“Dr. Martin,” the defense attorney asked, “Have you examined Roger Smith?”

“I examined the person who calls himself Roger Smith.”

“Did you notice the gunshot scar on his left arm?”

“Yes I did.” Dr. Martin answered.

“Did you ask him how he got that scar?”

“Yes I did. He said he got it ten years ago when hunting deer near Rome, Georgia.” Replied Martin.

“Did you check-out his story?” asked the attorney.

“Yes I did. Roger’s wife told me about the hunting accident ten years ago.”

“Dr. Martin, in your learned opinion, is this a genuine memory on the part of this man?” asked Peter’s defense attorney.

“Yes, it is.” Answered Dr. Martin.

“Dr. Martin, in your learned opinion, is this man’s scar a genuine scar?”

“Yes, it is.” Answered Dr. Martin.

“So, Dr. Martin, this man has a genuine scar with genuine memories associated with how he got that scar. He did not make this stuff up. He did not play act on this.”

“Yes.” Answered the doctor.

“So, this man has all the memories of Roger Smith, all the physical features of Roger Smith, including the scars of Roger Smith. So, he must be for all practical purposes, Roger Smith, wouldn’t you say?”

The prosecutor shouted, “Objection, your honor, the attorney is leading the witness.”

The defense attorney didn’t even wait for the judge to reply, but said, “I withdraw my question, your honor. I am through cross examining the witness.”

“A follow-up question, your honor.” The prosecutor said. “In your opinion, this man’s memory and scar would be the result of the transporter copying process?”

“Yes it would.” Answered Dr. Martin.

When the prosecution rested its case, the defense brought in four witnesses: Roger’s pastor, his primary care physician at Kaiser, his dentist, and Roger Smith’s wife. Each testified how the man who came out of the transporter receiver looked and acted identically to the man who had entered the transporter transmitter. The dentist even reported how the man had the same active cavities as Roger Smith had. Roger’s wife reported that the man who came out of the transmitter was physically the same, and behaved the same in every way as the Roger Smith did who originally entered the transporter.

Finally, the defense brought Roger Smith, or rather the copy of Roger Smith to the stand. He was asked how it felt to be transported (a slight disorientation because he noticed some features changed in the chamber he ended up in), and did he feel any differently from before (no, he felt the same).

The case went to the jury two days ago, and this morning we got word they had reached a verdict. I sat down in my usual front row seat, next to Detective Dennis Granger.

“What do you think the verdict is?” I whispered.

“I honestly can’t tell.” Answered Agent Granger.

“Peter Stone is sure taking a big chance with this trial.” I said. “If he wins, he can market the transporter. If he looses, he faces serious prison time.”

“We’ll see. I think he’s got an ace up his sleeve.” Dennis said.

We waited a few minutes, then the bailiff announced, “All rise, the honorable Judge Curtis Martinez is now entering the court.”

Judge Martinez slammed the gavel and announced the court is in session. The jury came in; all had serious faces and did look at Peter Stone.

“I think they have a guilty verdict.” I whispered to Dennis. Dennis grunted.

The judge turned to the jury and asked, “Have you reached a verdict?”

The foreman rose and answered, “Yes we have, your honor.”

“Hand the verdict to the bailiff.” The judge instructed.

The bailiff took the verdict sheet from the foreman and delivered it to the judge.

The judge unfolded it, read it silently, and then asked Peter Stone to stand.

The judge read: “Concerning the charge of first degree murder of Roger Smith, we the jury find the defendant, Peter Stone, guilty.”

There was an audible gasp from the audience in the courtroom.

“Do you have anything to say?” asked the judge turning to the defense.

Peter Stone’s defense attorney rose and said, “Your honor, in light of the verdict rendered on Peter Stone, I ask for a mistrial.”

Dennis muttered right beside me, “I knew it.”

“On what grounds?” Asked the judge.

“Your honor, two days after Roger Smith was transported, Dr. Peter Stone transported himself. I have witness and video that I can present to show this is the case. Since the jury has ruled that Peter Stone killed Roger Smith, thereby implying that anyone who comes out of the transporter is not the same person that went in. Peter Stone, by implication, died in the transporter transmitter and this person standing next to me is not Peter Stone. Therefore, this person cannot be prosecuted and convicted of the murder of Roger Smith.”

Pandemonium broke out in the courtroom. Reporters rushed out to send in their breaking news.

The judge slammed the gavel and shouted, “Order.”

“I will have to review the evidence you have before I can rule.” The judge bellowed.

It took a couple of hours, but Judge Martinez did declare a mistrial, and Dr. Peter Stone, or rather, the facsimile of Dr. Peter Stone, walked out a free man.

The next story.
Some of my thoughts about this are in my other blog, MetaSchema.