Brinus was outside the courthouse with his lawyer, Saul Redman. He tied Brinus’s tie and ran a lint remover over his black suit jacket. Then Saul put a nicotine patch on Brinus’s neck. The plaza outside was made of white marble. It had black marble benches; there was a Venetian style, gold leaf fountain. A statue of a catperson judge, a male cop, and a female lawyer spouted water out of their mouth into the basin of water. Children played in the fountain and climbed the trees unsupervised while two cops watched from a distance rather innocently.
The courthouse was designed in a Gothic style with gargoyles and 1,000-year-old carvings of various spirits. The windows were eight-paned and multistory. There was a green copper dome about 300 feet tall and 600 feet wide in between two large buildings.
“Remember kid, keep your mouth shut and don’t speak,” Saul advised Brinus.
They walked into the courthouse and up to the courtroom.
No one was there except for the prosecutor working on a TriQuarter tablet. The judge was not there nor the bailiff.
The prosecutor was surprised. “You’re early. This must be Brinus.”
“You know me by now, George.”
“Judge Simmons is running late. The bailiff will arrive in a moment. Is this the kid?”
“Yes, this is Brinus Helios.”
George laughed, “Oh, Judge Simmons is going to have a field day with this kid. We don’t get syndicate members every day.”
Saul narrowed his eyes, crossed his arms, and frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll see.”
The smile George flashed made Saul uneasy. Brinus became fidgety and started biting his nails as he craved a cigarette just as the judge walked in forty-five minutes later.
Four bailiffs entered and the sergeant said, “All rise for Judge Simmons.”
A dark-skinned man who was bald and in his mid-forties came into the courtroom and sat down.
“Can the defendant state his or her name for the record?
Brinus leaned into the mic. “My name is Brinus Helios.”
“We are here today to enter a plea and set a trial date or if the defendant wishes for accelerated sentencing so we can do that now.
Brinus and Saul exchanged looks which communicated a shared understanding.”
“Do you wish to enter a plea?”
Sual cleared his throat and spoke in a clear voice. “Yes, your honor. We plea no contest to the charge of falsifying a social media account and criminal trespass.”
The judge turned to the Prosecutor. “Do you agree with accelerated sentencing?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“What sentence do you recommend?”
“I would recommend the maximum sentence to discourage other syndicate members from doing this type of thing in the future without a license.”
Brinus looked at his feet and sighed. He really wanted a cigarette so bad. Saul put his hand on his shoulders to calm him down.
The judge looked at the defense. “What does the defense have to say?”
“I don’t think jail time would be beneficial to my client. Clients like mine have a track record of not benefiting from juvenile detention. It often does more harm than good. For instance, in the case of Rover V Saffron. The city jail was such a traumatic environment it was turning out drug addicts as cited in the Margrove report.”
Judge Simmons sighed and leaned back in his seat. “That jail was shut down last year. Do you think I am an idiot? The Margrove report is twenty years old. Many of the issues in it have been addressed. I do agree with your arguments regarding Rover v Saffron.”
Brinus felt his muscles relax and his heart rate slowed.
“I also don’t think a criminal like Brinus would benefit from jail. He likely would end up in the secure ward because of his syndicate background. I tell you what, Brinus will reimburse the cost of the police response to the city, and he will also reimburse the cost of the tour to a total of 18,000 credits. I will also issue the maximum fine for the social media account which is 500 credits. Furthermore, the max fine of 4,000 credits will be applied. I am also going to sentence you to 120 hours of community service to the organization Prator Willy Adult Group Home.”
The judge hit his gavel on the desk. “Case closed.”
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Brinus was at the syndicate clubhouse. He held Harper’s hand as he waited for Medusa. She screamed at someone for — what sounded like — violating their crime license. It seemed like they would go to jail for the rest of their life.
He heard hysterical crying and the man came running out in tears. “Brinus! get your ass in here!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
He walked into the office and sat down.
Medusa rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. “I know what you want. No. I will not intervene. If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.”
“Come on Bruh. 9 million days
?”
Medusa slammed her hands on the desk. “Next time, don’t get caught.”
“Ma’am… ”
Medusa stood and leaned over her desk. “Do you have other business to discuss?”
“What about my pay? How will I make money while I am doing community service?”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“The syndicate will cover your costs and take the money out of your next paycheck for reimbursement.”
Brinus came up and left.
Harper came up to Brinus and slapped him on the ass. “You wonna drink tonight?”
“I went to the club with ya’ three nights in a row this here week. Maybe we can just sit and play games together?”
Harper grabbed Brinus’s ass and laughed. “You’re no fun sweet pea! I love the club!”
To Brinus it seemed like every night Harper would spend all night at that club. He would sleep all day and spend a couple of hours drug dealing.
Brinus sighed. “Whatever. I had my fill of clubbing for a couple of weeks.”
“What are ya’? Antifun?”
“Not everyone is a social bunny. I gotta go and get ready for community service.”
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Brinus reported to the group home the next morning. It was a generic workhouse with columns and red brick on the outside. It had a fake confederation feel to it and was a century old. It looked like a Victorian-era building. There was a camera on the side door and Brinus noticed the lock could be picked it with a credit card, so he opened the lock. He saw the alarm was tripped once he was inside, so he typed a generic code, and it shut off just as the group home director entered the side entrance.
“Who are you and how did you get in?” She noticed the young man before her looked like the criminal that would be arriving around this time. “Wait, you must be Brinus Helios.”
Brinus nodded, showing her his tattoo. He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit the other end to keep from mouthing off at this woman.
“I am going to ask you not to smoke around the patients. We have residents who have autism and are sensitive to smoke.”
Brinus tilted his head taking another drag from his cig. “What’s autism?”
“It is a sensory and developmental disorder that causes the client to be sensitive to overstimulation and miss social cues. Sort of
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Brinus reported to the group home the next morning. It was a generic confederation building and a century old. It looked like a Victorian-era workhouse with columns and red brick on the outside. It had a fake camera on the side door and Brinus noticed the lock could be picked with a credit card, it opened the lock. He saw the alarm was tripped once he was inside, so he typed a generic code, and it shut off just as the group home director entered the side entrance.
“Who are you and how did you get in?” She noticed the young man before him looked like the criminal that would be arriving around this time. “Wait, you must be Brinus Helios.”
Brinus nodded, showing her his tattoo. He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit the other end to keep from mouthing off at this woman.
“I am going to ask you not to smoke around the patients. We have residents who have autism and are sensitive to smoke.”
Brinus tilted his head taking another drag from his cig. “What’s autism?”
“It is a sensory and developmental disorder that causes the client to be sensitive to overstimulation and miss social cues. Sort of like the person is so overstimulated they don’t notice the cues you notice. Others will see things we could never see. Some blessings and curses. All of our residents smoke but we have designated areas for it so please stick to those areas.”
“What happens when a person with autism gets overstimulated?” asked Brinus, confused.
“They have a meltdown or just become non-compliant. Can you fix the lock and alarm code so something like this doesn’t happen again?”
“I can. It’ll take a couple of hours to redo the alarm code and ’bout thirty minutes to reset the lock.”
“I’m going to have to issue you a formal verbal reprimand and put this in our records for your behavior. I know we were expecting you but you need to check in and sit through orientation like everyone else. Thank you for exposing the security issue. I think – as a learning experience – we will have you fix all of the security issues with our group home.”
Brinus took another drag and then shook some ash into an ashtray by the door. “Are you going to report this to my probation officer?”
“Not this time but I will next time. Don’t do this again.”
Brinus nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
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Brinus had a cigarette in his mouth after lunch as he worked on the door lock . He spent all morning in orientation and getting his information for community service. He felt someone watch him as he took apart the lock.
He looked up and saw one of the residents watching him. “Hello,” said Brinus looking at the resident.
“Hi. My name is Ted, what’s yours?”
“Brinus. Do you smoke?”
Ted laughed as he put his hands by his side. “Yeah. About a pack a day.”
“Oh! Do ya’ want one?”
“No thanks. I already had my smokes. What are you doing?”
Brinus continued fiddling with the lock as he reset the tumbler mechanism. He said, “I am resetting the pin tumbler and will close the gap between the door and the lock and door.”
“Did you know the alfalfa pine dog on Prator 10 is a predator of sheep wolves?”
Brinus thought this was rather random but whatever. He was in a group home with people who functioned differently in society.
Ted began info dumping about alfalfa pine dogs. After about an hour, he bummed a cigarette off of Brinus and continued info dumping.
A nurse watched them smoke together from the distance. as the group home director came out of her office. “I see Brinus is talking with our animal expert.”
The nurse smiled “Yeah Crystal Waterfall. They seem to enjoy each other’s company.”
Crystal rolled her eyes. “How many times Gloria do I have to tell you to call me Chris? Now, make sure Brinus and Ted smoke in the smoking area when he starts plugging holes in the blind spots.”
“I think Ted has a new friend,” exclaimed the nurse.
“I was nervous at first because we don’t often get professional criminals. However, it seems like these syndicate types are really gentle with the residents.”
Gloria laughed and began sifting through medical records. “Syndicate members are trained not to harm innocent people. I wouldn’t worry about him.”
is so overstimulated they don’t notice the cues you notice. Others will see things we could never see. Some blessings and curses. Some of our clients have smoking-related trauma.”
“What happens when a person with autism gets overstimulated?” asked Brinus, confused.
“They have a meltdown or just become non-compliant. Can you fix the lock and alarm code so something like this doesn’t happen again?”
“I can. It’ll take a couple of hours to redo the alarm code and ’bout thirty minutes to reset the lock.”
“I’m going to have to issue you a formal verbal reprimand and put this in our records for your behavior. I know we were expecting you but you need to check in and sit through orientation like everyone else. Thank you for exposing the security issue. As a learning experience, I think we will have you fix all of the security issues with our group home.”
Brinus took another drag and then shook some ash into an ashtray by the door. “Are you going to report this to my probation officer?”
“Not this time but I will next time. Don’t do this again.”
Brinus nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
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Brinus had a cigarette in his mouth after lunch as he worked on the door lock. He spent all morning in orientation and getting his information for community service. He felt someone watch him as he took apart the door lock.
He looked up and saw one of the residents watching him. “Hello,” said Brinus looking at the resident.
“Hi. My name is Ted, what’s yours?”
“Brinus. Does my cig bother you?”
Ted laughed as he put his hands by his side. “No. I smoke too. About a pack a day.”
“Oh! Do ya’ want one?”
“No thanks. I already had my smokes. What are you doing?”
Brinus continued fiddling with the lock as he reset the tumbler mechanism. He said, “I am resetting the pin tumbler and will close the gap between the door and the lock.”
“Did you know the alfalfa pine dog on Prator 10 is a predator of sheep wolves?”
Brinus thought this was rather random but whatever. He was in a group home with people who functioned differently in society.
Ted began info dumping about alfalfa pine dogs. After about an hour, he bummed a cigarette off of Brinus and continued.
A nurse watched them smoke together from a distance as the group home director came out of her office. “I see Brinus is talking with our animal expert.”
The nurse smiled “Yeah Crystal Waterfall. They seem to enjoy each other’s company.”
Crystal rolled her eyes. “How many times, Gloria, do I have to tell you to call me Chris? Now, make sure Brinus and Ted smoke in the smoking area when he starts plugging holes in the blind spots.”
“I think Ted has a new friend,” exclaimed the nurse.
“I was nervous at first because we don’t often get professional criminals. However, it seems like these syndicate types are really gentle with the residents.”
Gloria laughed and began sifting through medical records. “Syndicate members are trained not to harm innocent people. I wouldn’t worry about him.”
Chris put her hand to her chin in a thinking pose and stated, “Funny Brinus is a syndicate member. He seems more like a navy man than a professional criminal.”
“Funny how life works.”
“Let me know if there are any issues.”
Chris went into her office and continued watching Brinus.