Woman on the Edge of Time - Marge Piercy [102]
“No. We act in cases of injury.”
“Suppose I stole something?”
“We don’t have much private property. Likely I’d give you what you asked. But if you did take something, everyone would give you presents. We’d think you were speaking to us of neglect and feelings of poverty. We’d try to make you feel good—wanted.”
“Suppose I hurt someone? What about rape and murder and beating somebody up?”
“We’re trained in self-defense. We’re trained to respect each other. I’ve never actually known of a case of rape, although I’ve read about it. It seems … particularly horrible to us. Disgusting. Like cannibalism. I know it occurs and has occurred in the past, but it seems unbelievable.”
She imagined herself taking a walk at night under the stars. She imagined herself ambling down a country road and feeling only mild curiosity when she saw three men coming toward her. She imagined hitching a ride with anyone willing to give her a ride. She imagined answering the door without fear, to see if anyone needed help. “Nobody ever takes a knife to anyone? No lovers’ quarrels? No jealousy? Don’t hand me that.” Her voice was brassy with skepticism.
“Assault, murder we still have. Not as common as they say it was in your time. But it happens. People still get angry and strike out.”
“So what do you do? Do you put them in jail?”
“First off, we ask if person acted intentionally or not—if person wants to take responsibility for the act.”
“Suppose I say, ‘No, I didn’t know what I was doing, judge’?”
“Then we work on healing. We try to help so that never again will person do a thing person doesn’t mean to do.”
“Suppose I say I’m not sick. I punched him in the face because he had it coming, and I’m glad.”
“Then you work out a sentence. Maybe exile, remote labor. Sheepherding. Life on shipboard. Space service. Sometimes crossers cook good ideas about how to atone. You could put in for an experiment or something dangerous.”
She stared. “You’re telling me that when I smashed Geraldo’s face, I’d tell you what I should do to … atone?”
“How not?” Parra stared back. “You, your victim, and your judge work it out. If you killed, then the family of your victim would choose a mem to negotiate.”
“If I killed a bunch of people, then I’d just sign on as a sailor or herd sheep?”
“You mean a second time? No. Second time someone uses violence, we give up. We don’t want to watch each other or to imprison each other. We aren’t willing to live with people who choose to use violence. We execute them.”
“Suppose I say I didn’t do it.”
“That happens.” Parra waved her hand. “By lot someone is picked to investigate. When that investigator thinks the crosser has been found, we have a trial. Our laws are simple and we don’t need lawyers. The jury decides. A sentence is negotiated by all the parties.”
“You’re Latin, aren’t you?”
“Latin? Ancient language?”
“Spanish-speaking?”
“Sí, from down in Río Grande, Tejas del Sur. Pero hace cinco años que he vivido in el pueblo boricua Lola Rodríguez de Tío.”
“De veras? De Tejas? Yo tambíen. I was born in El Paso. So—pues—en Tejas ahora … Who’s got the power?”
“We’re an autonomous region.” Parra looked a little confused. “Todos, claro, como aquí, como siempre, no?”
“But you all speak Spanish?”
“For our first language, claro que sí, como no?”
“Why are you here? Why did you come up here?”
“To study with María de Lola Rodríguez. Es experta sobre ríos. En mi regíon tenemos todavía problemas terribles con los ríos, que estaban envenedados por completo en tu época. I’ve been studying five years. María says I can go back to my pueblo in a year, para ayudarles. Tengo muchas ganas de volver. I miss my people, ai!, me hacen tanta falta! And the winters burn my teeth.”
“Ojalá pudiera ver Tejas ahora! How I’d like to see Texas now!”
“Por supuesto! It’ll knock your eyes out!” Parra grabbed her by the shoulder. “What we’ve done with adobe in the last forty years—how it glows. We eat plenty of meat too, not like here, where