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Different states do it different ways; that is the point of having a Cairo Protocol at all. But every signatory has a process for determining whether someone is safe to wander the streets, drooling or not as they choose.
In San San we call this a "civil intelligence hearing." It is not, and I must emphasize, NOT a criminal matter. You don't have to do anything wrong to be on the wrong side of a civil intelligence hearing - but as a practical matter, you have to fuck up a LOT. In public. Spectacularly.
My blood ran cold, thinking about yesterday. An unfairly horrible day, true, but one fraught with the kind of perils that would arouse legitimate social interest.
So I was half expecting it when Doctor Krismurti said immediately, "I recommend to remand."
Huge crowd buzz ... especially considering that there were twenty-seven people present, who had just voted to acquit me of two felonies.
Captain Amy's face ... froze. She took a deep breath without seeming to move her lungs.
"Doctor Krismurti, would you kindly expand on that?"
"Certainly. Referencing the DSM-33, Alan clearly suffers from several psychiatric disorders. Paranoia, meglomania, social exclusion disorder, social disaffection disorder. These would be relatively harmless if he were a relatively normal individual. But he is not. He is wealthy, powerful and very intelligent. Recent events have thrust him not only into the public spotlight, but put him through a sequence of events that demand examination for post traumatic stress disorder. Certainly his fitness to carry a smartgun is in question."
The gentle reader can now see why I ... dislike ... psychiatrists, psychologists, priests, peddlers, panhandlers and other petty crooks.
"OBJECTION!" boomed my attorney. "Patient client privilege!"
"Already waived," the good Doctor pointed out, smugly.
I tapped my nose. The Sergeant who had asked me the pointed questions earlier got really busy with his smartware.
"I am willing to bet that I can qualify and depose a hundred expert witnesses to cancel out this ridiculous libel."
"That just proves your client has money," Dr. Krismurti retorted.
"It's not paranoia when someone really is out to get you, _Doctor_," I said heavily. "You're fired."
"My credentials as an expert witness do not depend on employment."
The Stanford Safety Director was having a whispered conversation with the Dean of Medicine. The latter stood up.
"Dr. Krismurti, you're fired."
He turned as pale as his complexion would let him.
"On what grounds?!?"
"UC Stanford Code of Ethics violations. Your access privileges to the hospital are also revoked. Get out."
He started to get up and Captain Amy coughed slightly.
"He stays until the end of this hearing. Regardless of his employment status, he is an expert witness and he will be heard out. Pray continue."
The UC Stanford staff sighed slightly. I'd have to look it up - and I didn't want to take the time - but I suspected this had been the first verbal termination of a Stanford physician in a decade.
"I am ... or was ... one of this hospital's leading clinical psychologists on socio-psychological disorders. I have testified in literally hundreds of civil intelligence hearings and over a dozen exile cases. I bear no ill will towards either Mr. Anderson or UC Stanford. I would be remiss in my duties as a physician if I did not state my very real concerns about Alan's fitness to function in society."
"Time is short, Doctor. Be specific."
"Mr. Anderson's psychological profile is all over the chart, but is dominated by the relationship between power and fear. In an age where less than 1% of the public choose to carry deadly weapons, he does. Instead of pursuing hobbies or interests, he alternates between two unhealthy obsessions - proving his freedom by getting into trouble, and interfering in other people's business using volunteerism as an excuse. He has few friends, no lovers, and sublimates his need for affection using a companion bot."
Samantha flicked an ear at him. He didn't notice.
"He doesn't even maintain his own cubic! Instead, he wanders like a homeless person from hall to hall, treating San San as his own personal play pen."
He was watching me closely. I listened but ignored him. I could tell how much that bothered him. I refused to feed his need to feel important - so he was getting his revenge.
"Last but not least, people are dead because he did not turn matters over to the proper authorities!"
"Actually, he did," Captain Amy chided. "Please confine your remarks to your areas of expertise, Doctor."
Zing!
"A remand is not a punishment, but a recognition that someone cannot function in society safely. I suggest that Alan be remanded to the UC Stanford campus. Clearly I will not be his clinician, but I hope that among the faculty, someone can be found who can handle his phobias!"
"Thank you, Doctor, that will be all."
The room erupted with people trying to get the floor.
My lawyer won again. This is why he gets the big bucks.
"Doctor, I note for the record that you are a member of Doctors Against Violence. DAV has a policy that its members do not treat permit holders. In addition to whatever UC Stanford policies you violated, you also violated the guidelines of that professional association by accepting Alan's case. I submit that this is proof of your bias sufficient to dismiss your credibility."
Zing!
The Dean of Medicine spoke up. "Actually, the ethics violation for which we fired Dr. Krismurti is not ... directly ... tied to Alan's care. We find dual employment to be a conflict of interest..."
Something happened too fast to see. Samantha's eyes flashed but returned to normal.
Dr. Krismurti was now wrapped in a personal ball of quickfoam. Two UC Stanford security guards stepped forward and started rolling him out.
"Our internal investigation determined that he pulled strings to be assigned to Alan's case. Further investigation determined that he has been an agent of the Mastermind for about a year now. We were looking for a chance to prove this, and found it.
"Please review your ware, citizens."
I couldn't. So I remained mute.
Then the quickfoam ball got a lot larger very suddenly, and blew up. The guards dived clear, just in time.
Yuck.
Flashing arrows on the ground lit and all of us ran down the path indicated, getting us out of the danger area.
Apparently, Dr. Krismurti lacked sufficient paranoia to survive in our Itty Bitty Bigger World.
He'd been rigged - probably without his knowledge - as a suicide bomb.
Awkward.
In San San we call this a "civil intelligence hearing." It is not, and I must emphasize, NOT a criminal matter. You don't have to do anything wrong to be on the wrong side of a civil intelligence hearing - but as a practical matter, you have to fuck up a LOT. In public. Spectacularly.
My blood ran cold, thinking about yesterday. An unfairly horrible day, true, but one fraught with the kind of perils that would arouse legitimate social interest.
So I was half expecting it when Doctor Krismurti said immediately, "I recommend to remand."
Huge crowd buzz ... especially considering that there were twenty-seven people present, who had just voted to acquit me of two felonies.
Captain Amy's face ... froze. She took a deep breath without seeming to move her lungs.
"Doctor Krismurti, would you kindly expand on that?"
"Certainly. Referencing the DSM-33, Alan clearly suffers from several psychiatric disorders. Paranoia, meglomania, social exclusion disorder, social disaffection disorder. These would be relatively harmless if he were a relatively normal individual. But he is not. He is wealthy, powerful and very intelligent. Recent events have thrust him not only into the public spotlight, but put him through a sequence of events that demand examination for post traumatic stress disorder. Certainly his fitness to carry a smartgun is in question."
The gentle reader can now see why I ... dislike ... psychiatrists, psychologists, priests, peddlers, panhandlers and other petty crooks.
"OBJECTION!" boomed my attorney. "Patient client privilege!"
"Already waived," the good Doctor pointed out, smugly.
I tapped my nose. The Sergeant who had asked me the pointed questions earlier got really busy with his smartware.
"I am willing to bet that I can qualify and depose a hundred expert witnesses to cancel out this ridiculous libel."
"That just proves your client has money," Dr. Krismurti retorted.
"It's not paranoia when someone really is out to get you, _Doctor_," I said heavily. "You're fired."
"My credentials as an expert witness do not depend on employment."
The Stanford Safety Director was having a whispered conversation with the Dean of Medicine. The latter stood up.
"Dr. Krismurti, you're fired."
He turned as pale as his complexion would let him.
"On what grounds?!?"
"UC Stanford Code of Ethics violations. Your access privileges to the hospital are also revoked. Get out."
He started to get up and Captain Amy coughed slightly.
"He stays until the end of this hearing. Regardless of his employment status, he is an expert witness and he will be heard out. Pray continue."
The UC Stanford staff sighed slightly. I'd have to look it up - and I didn't want to take the time - but I suspected this had been the first verbal termination of a Stanford physician in a decade.
"I am ... or was ... one of this hospital's leading clinical psychologists on socio-psychological disorders. I have testified in literally hundreds of civil intelligence hearings and over a dozen exile cases. I bear no ill will towards either Mr. Anderson or UC Stanford. I would be remiss in my duties as a physician if I did not state my very real concerns about Alan's fitness to function in society."
"Time is short, Doctor. Be specific."
"Mr. Anderson's psychological profile is all over the chart, but is dominated by the relationship between power and fear. In an age where less than 1% of the public choose to carry deadly weapons, he does. Instead of pursuing hobbies or interests, he alternates between two unhealthy obsessions - proving his freedom by getting into trouble, and interfering in other people's business using volunteerism as an excuse. He has few friends, no lovers, and sublimates his need for affection using a companion bot."
Samantha flicked an ear at him. He didn't notice.
"He doesn't even maintain his own cubic! Instead, he wanders like a homeless person from hall to hall, treating San San as his own personal play pen."
He was watching me closely. I listened but ignored him. I could tell how much that bothered him. I refused to feed his need to feel important - so he was getting his revenge.
"Last but not least, people are dead because he did not turn matters over to the proper authorities!"
"Actually, he did," Captain Amy chided. "Please confine your remarks to your areas of expertise, Doctor."
Zing!
"A remand is not a punishment, but a recognition that someone cannot function in society safely. I suggest that Alan be remanded to the UC Stanford campus. Clearly I will not be his clinician, but I hope that among the faculty, someone can be found who can handle his phobias!"
"Thank you, Doctor, that will be all."
The room erupted with people trying to get the floor.
My lawyer won again. This is why he gets the big bucks.
"Doctor, I note for the record that you are a member of Doctors Against Violence. DAV has a policy that its members do not treat permit holders. In addition to whatever UC Stanford policies you violated, you also violated the guidelines of that professional association by accepting Alan's case. I submit that this is proof of your bias sufficient to dismiss your credibility."
Zing!
The Dean of Medicine spoke up. "Actually, the ethics violation for which we fired Dr. Krismurti is not ... directly ... tied to Alan's care. We find dual employment to be a conflict of interest..."
Something happened too fast to see. Samantha's eyes flashed but returned to normal.
Dr. Krismurti was now wrapped in a personal ball of quickfoam. Two UC Stanford security guards stepped forward and started rolling him out.
"Our internal investigation determined that he pulled strings to be assigned to Alan's case. Further investigation determined that he has been an agent of the Mastermind for about a year now. We were looking for a chance to prove this, and found it.
"Please review your ware, citizens."
I couldn't. So I remained mute.
Then the quickfoam ball got a lot larger very suddenly, and blew up. The guards dived clear, just in time.
Yuck.
Flashing arrows on the ground lit and all of us ran down the path indicated, getting us out of the danger area.
Apparently, Dr. Krismurti lacked sufficient paranoia to survive in our Itty Bitty Bigger World.
He'd been rigged - probably without his knowledge - as a suicide bomb.
Awkward.
