Project Seraphina [LitRPG, Magitech, GL]
3.45 The Deposition II

I make my way across the large conference room, though not without some difficulties. I take my seat, the one nearest the back wall of the large, elliptically-shaped table. Chloe takes a seat beside me to my right, gripping my hand underneath the large ovoid table that takes up most of the center of the room. Meanwhile, Mr. Rutherford sits to my left, alongside a small lapel-sized microphone leading into what I have to imagine is a recording device.

My seat, unlike all the others, seems to have had its back modified and armrests removed specifically to accommodate my wings. I appreciate the gesture and the thoughtfulness that went into it, even if it is ultimately unnecessary for my comfort. I can just levitate while sitting cross-legged if need be; my wings manipulate gravity directly, rather than flying through the principles of lift and classical mechanics.

Opposite me are four men. Two of them I don’t recognize. Both of those are middle-aged men in sport jackets, though both of them look considerably more disheveled than Mr. Rutherford. I have to assume they are opposing counsel. Although referring to them as ‘opposing’ counsel is a bit misleading. The pawnbroker sitting next to his lawyer, as well as his accomplices, are criminal defendants, meaning that technically the state is prosecuting them and I’m just a witness.

Speaking of the former pawnbroker and his associate, they both immediately recognize me, and Chloe to a lesser extent. Their faces have each tensed, they’ve each broken out into a cold sweat, and I can almost hear their quickened breathing and heartbeats, even from the opposite side of the room. The man who wasn’t the pawnbroker offers me the single-fingered salute, but I just grin and nod right back at him. They aren’t worth getting upset over, and I figure the best way to irritate them further is to simply enjoy myself and not let them get under my skin.

Finally, to my left, seated in between both groups, is a middle-aged woman dressed in a smooth, black blouse and matching dress pants. She has a machine in front of her that looks like the jankiest typewriter that’s ever been conceived, which strongly suggests that she’s the court stenographer who Mr. Rutherford had mentioned before. She turns to me and offers me a curious look. I take no offense to it— my wings are hardly commonplace, even if a small number of other people can fly as well.

She’s the one who speaks first. “Alright, Mr. Rutherford, Mr. Greenfield, are both of your parties fully assembled and ready to begin the deposition of Ms. Seraphina Mortensen?”

Both give their assent.

“Now, Ms. Mortensen?” she says, turning her attention to me.

I nod. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“My name is Juliette, and I’m the court reporter for the deposition of Seraphina Mortensen in the matter of the State of Oklahoma vs. Donahue and five other related cases. In just a moment, the attorneys will formally swear you in. I ask that you please speak clearly, and make sure that all of your answers are properly verbalized. This interview will be recorded and transcribed, but only the words spoken aloud will make it onto the official record. Are these instructions clear?”

I briefly nod, before realizing that I’ve completely disregarded the instructions I’ve just heard. “Yes, Ma’am,” I quickly add.

“Very good. I will now begin with the swearing in of the witness.”

Juliette stands up, facing me, though remaining on the opposite side of the table from me. “Seraphina Mortensen, please stand and raise your hand, palm outward.”

I do so.

“Please repeat the following oath. ‘I, followed by your name, do solemnly swear that I shall tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.’”

I nod. “I, Seraphina Mortensen, do solemnly swear that I shall tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. In the name of the goddesses, this I swear.”

She and Mr. Greenfield give me a funny look, but I remain unfazed, matching opposing counsel's glare bit for bit. After about five seconds, he relents, muttering ‘should be good enough’ under his breath. I hadn’t intended to ruffle the attorney so thoroughly in that manner, but it’s important that I hold true to my beliefs, ones which don’t include invoking the singular, masculine, capital-G God. Potentially disorienting the attorney before questioning is merely a minor bonus.

Mr. Greenfield takes over, standing up as Juliette sits back down in front of her stenograph. “I want to start by asking you to recount the events of the morning of June 9th, leading up to the incident, as best you remember them. Be as thorough as possible.”

I turn to Mr. Rutherford. He raises no objection, so after two seconds, I begin speaking. “Chloe and I had recently come into a large sum of money–”

“From where?” Mr. Greenfield asks.

“I object to this question,” Mr. Rutherford says. “The source of Ms. Mortensen’s money is of no relevance to this case.”

“Your objection has been documented,” Juliette says. “Ms. Mortensen, please continue.”

“I had recently done research relating to Ethertech at the behest of the military, as well as participated in several battles against the Order of the Wilds, including most notably the conflict down at the Capitol a few weeks back. This money was payment for those deeds, as well as disability pay for the loss of my left arm.”

I pause for a couple of seconds, allowing everyone to take stock of my [Mechanical Arm Cannon]. I wave the metal joints for emphasis.

“Please continue with the original question about the events of June 9th,” Mr. Greenfield says.

“Chloe and I had decided that we needed some gold and silver and gemstones for some projects I wanted to work on. We–”

“Why not go to a jeweler if you had that much money?”

“Jewelers, and the market for gemstones more generally, are documented to be absolute scams for the consumer. We believed we could get a better deal, and since I had planned to purchase large quantities of both gemstones and precious metals for my crafting over the coming months, we wanted to find a shop where we could get both at prices closer to the spot market price, rather than dealing with a boutique dealer’s markups. If we could build a longer-term rapport, so much the better.”

“And the threat of danger or being robbed never once crossed your mind?”

“No,” I say. “There are a few people in the city, mostly those working for the military, who could plausibly threaten me. I know a good number of them by name. Your client is not one of them.”

“You felt completely safe, even knowing the possibility that they could have had weapons.”

“Most conventional weaponry is all but useless against people with more than a few levels and points of [Vitality] to their name. A plain sword wielded by someone with high [Strength] might hurt, yes. But a gun? I doubt I’d feel it.”

“Would you be prepared to take a bullet to demonstrate?”

“Sure,” I say. “Right here, in this office, right now?” Not exactly keen on doing so, but I doubt it’d be enough to actually kill me. Or really even leave more than a superficial wound.

“Chloe, can you cast [Saintess’s Blessing] on me?”

She taps me on the back of the thigh, filling me with golden light for a brief moment. I half-expect her to take the opportunity to let her hand wander, but she remains professional about it, remaining seated and silent afterwards.

“You just mentioned levels and [Vitality]. Do you mean to imply that people are inherently stronger or weaker by virtue of those statistics?”

“Objection,” Mr. Rutherford says. “Not relevant to the incident.”

“Stronger or weaker, yes.”

“And do you believe that is fair?” opposing counsel asks.

“Objection again,” Mr. Rutherford says. “Not relevant to the incident. Also objecting to the form of the question.”

“Fairness or not aside, it is the truth," he continues. "Answer the question, Ms. Mortensen.”

I understand the trap he’s laid for me. He wants me to argue that no, it’s not fair that some people are inherently stronger or weaker than others. And he’s not wrong. But that could be applied to a lot of things. It’s not fair that, before the System, men were generally stronger than women. It’s not fair that some people have more money or are born with intellectual gifts or, in Chloe’s case, are just plain lucky. But we’ve accepted those inherent unfairnesses as a society.

While I agree with his argument in theory, giving him this will strongly make the case that those with higher levels will have to submit to government-enforced restrictions. Ones that will likely be crudely constructed and rife with loopholes for the well-connected and those who know how to grease the system or the System. And so, I decide to throw him off his questioning.

“Yes,” I say.

“Please explain.”

“Objection,” Mr. Rutherford again states. “Defendant’s counsel is leading the witness.”

“We do not begrudge the individual who studies hard, gets good grades, and for that, is admitted into an elite college and therefore is given more opportunities for more lucrative jobs,” I say. “We do not begrudge the star athlete who trains, getting a scholarship and perhaps one day a career as a professional sports player. We might begrudge those born to wealthy families, but our society tacitly assents to the advantages that a child gets just by having the right parents. Is it not fair, by that logic, that a person who trains their body and mind in the crucible of battle, be rewarded by becoming stronger when the next such trial emerges?”

“Even though, by your own admission, you faced five men with weapons and did not feel threatened in the slightest?”

“Do we begrudge the president when he is surrounded by his Secret Service detail? Or when another politician or billionaire has their own security forces, private or otherwise?”

I notice that he hasn’t taken much time to actually question the events of that morning. Instead, he seems more interested in attacking me, although I’m not sure to what end. If he’s trying to get his client a lesser sentence, then why not…

Wait, I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to flip the script, present me as the threat, and his client as someone who felt threatened and needed to retaliate. And I’ve largely fallen into his trap.

“So, then, would you consider yourself to be a threat to society,” he says, confirming my suspicions about his intent.

“No,” I say. “Oklahoma has had open carry on the books for several years, as well as a Stand Your Ground law, as I understand.”

“That is correct,” Mr. Rutherford says.

“This is no different. Your client had a right to carry a firearm, just as I have a right to exist, despite my hands being lethal weapons to themselves. It’s only when they are used in the service of a crime, as your client tried to do unto me, that the open possession of a weapon becomes criminal.”

“Mr. Greenfield,” Mr. Rutherford says. “I’m going to object to any further questions along this line of reasoning, on the grounds that my client has a fifth amendment right to not have to provide testimony which might be used against her.”

“The objection has been noted in the record,” Juliette says. “Please continue.”

“Is it reasonable that my client could have feared for his life and taken actions accordingly? We have established already that there is no duty to retreat law on the books in this jurisdiction.”

“No,” I say. “Your client only took aggressive action after I refused his offer to purchase my wings multiple times. He may have had some sort of [Analysis] or [Identify] skill, though this is merely speculative. Had he such a thing, however, I believe he would have avoided antagonizing Chloe and me at all costs. As such, I believe that there is no way he could have been threatened by me at the time he acted aggressively.”

“Objection,” though this time it’s Mr. Greenfield who is objecting to my testimony. “The witness is speculating as to my client’s mental state. I move that this testimony be stricken from the witness.”

“Countermotion,” Mr. Rutherford says. “Ms. Mortensen is the author of a foundational work on Ethertech.” He pulls out a thick stack of papers, which I recognize as the design schematics to my [Mechanical Arm Cannon], as well as other documentation I compiled during my work with Drs. Winfield and Martinek a couple of months ago. “I move that her testimony on this matter be introduced as that of an expert witness in the matter of Ethertech and System-related spellcraft.”

“Objection!” Mr. Greenfield says. “This is highly unusual and creates a massive conflict of interest. Introducing her as an expert witness after she’s shown to have plausible criminal culpability in the manner here is a clear conflict of interest. This should be stricken at once!”

I sigh. Yeah, I’m going to be here for every bit of the seven hours we have here today.