Fiction: The Adventures of Chelsea the Social Worker part 6!

 After a lot of procrastinating, I decided to finish the transition week with some fiction, and that meant more of Chelsea the social worker. As usual, here's links for the first and previous installments.

Six weeks later, Chelsea was in court. It was technically a hearing rather than a trial. The real difference was that no members of the public were allowed. The jury was a panel of State administrators, with an AI as judge. Chelsea, Diane and the legal counselors for the Department were on the left. The counselors were led by Deve, who at the moment only had 4 arms rather than 8. The frequent fluctuations in his number of arms was a mystery that their coworkers had grown tired of pondering. On the right was Shad, surrounded by a team of a dozen. He turned a miserable gaze toward Chelsea, again. She continued to stare straight ahead.

An oviraptorosaur four feet tall stepped forward onto the courtroom floor. His almost boxy head looked part turtle and part flamingo, yet he spoke perfectly apart from a recurring whistle. “I am Quiquay Quon, Examiner for the Arcostate,” he said. “This is a hearing on the competency of Party Shad Feaghan, and a protective order placed by his family and their counsel against the second Party, his partner Chelsea Feaghan O’Keefe. As a reminder, this is intended to be a non-adversarial hearing, in which the State panel will hear the case for both Parties. I am here to oversee the testimony of the pertinent witnesses, to cross-examine and clarify as needed, and to mediate any and all further questions and challenges from the counsel of each Party. As a further reminder, all testimony heard here will remain absolutely confidential.” He gave a meaningful glance toward a handful of Security staff and observers present.

“Now, I would like to hear first from Shad Faeaghan,” the Examiner continued. “I understand he has requested to make a petition on his own behalf.”

Chelsea leaned back as Shad rose, looking utterly despondent. There was a sudden flurry from his counsel box. A man she recognized as Shad's doctor rose up and shouted, “Stop that!”

“’What?” Chelsea said. “I’m sitting here.”

“If there is an objection,” said the judge, “present it through counsel.” He turned his head. His body was clearly metal, but he had a fully human face.

An attorney spoke up belatedly. “It happens, we have examined at least 20 pieces of explicit artwork portraying Ms. Feaghan O’Keefe in that exact pose,” he said. “We posit, she is already trying to use her sexuality to manipulate Mr. Feaghan.”

“It’s how I sit,” Chelsea said. “How about I make myself comfortable?” She slid her chair back and propped up her legs on the table.

“Ms. O’Keefe, you are advised against this display,” Deve promptly said. “I posit to the court that this is disruption and harassment of my client for her behavior within a consensual and monogamous relationship. Let the court decide if she is acting inappropriately.”

“I grant it,” the judge said, looking amused. “As long as Mr. Feaghan can remain composed, Ms. O’Keefe can remain as she is.” Chelsea straightened with a hint of a smile.

“Please, I want the protective order lifted,” Shad said. “There’s really no need for this. She’s my wife. I love her. She’s my one and only. Just let me go home with my Blue Bell, and everything will be fine.”

The Examiner looked at him with kind gold eyes. Any human watching would have expected him to move to grant the request immediately. He merely clicked his beak and probed, “Then this is your official petition?”

“Of course,” Shad said, in an irritable tone that Chelsea knew meant he was confused.

“Of course, we will consider your request,” the Examiner said. “But you must realize, we have issues to consider. You were reported to police before by a previous partner, before you met Ms. O’Keefe. Since then, the two of you have been involved in multiple disturbances, involving public indecency, damage to property, and finally an assault that significantly damaged a law enforcement AI. You must appreciate, then, that we have cause for concern.”

The doctor stood up. “I would like to examine Mr. Feaghan,” he said. “I believe I can better clarify his state of mind.”

“Very well,” the Examiner said. “I give the floor to Dr. Klaus Charleton, the doctor assigned by the Department of Domestic Services to Mr. Feaghan’s care.”

The doctor now came from the same box as the family counsel. “Hello, Shad,” he said with a smile. “How are you today?”

“Hi, Dr. Charleton,” Shad said, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m doing okay. Except I can’t see my wife.”

“We hope to resolve this soon,” the doctor said. “Now, unfortunately, it will be necessary to play back some comments from our sessions. But you will have the opportunity to comment at any time, or request to stop the recording. Do you accept?”

“Sure,” Shad said sullenly.

“Bull kaka,” Chelsea said, neither loudly nor quietly.

The doctor began playing back excerpts Chelsea had heard before. She did prop up her feet, in what soon became genuine boredom. She turned her head at an odd sound, almost like the crack of a bat. She beheld Deve buffing the fingers of one bronze hand with a 6-inch triangular blade that had seemingly erupted from the knuckles of the other. She shook her She frowned as she heard something new. “Mr. Feaghan, we’ve discussed this,” the questioner said. “The idea that males don’t `say no’ is a stereotype. Men have as much agency as women, and they can have the same issues with libido and physical performance. Beyond that, there is the need to communicate preferences. So, can you tell me just a little about how your partner initiates intimacy?”

“Okay, okay,” Shad said. “To begin with, it’s not like I never ask for it. It’s about 50-50, okay, maybe 60-40. Chelsea keeps saying she wants me to do it more often. Anyway, here’s how it goes, for average. First, she gets real quiet, then she starts looking at me. Then when I look back at her, she starts doing stuff, like, to herself, and maybe she says, `Can you come over here and give me a hand?’ So, I can still shut her down, at least for a while. Maybe I get up and do something else, or I just watch her for a while. I can always dig that. After a while, she stops, or maybe I finish what I’m working on, or I come over after all.”

“Then how does she communicate with you?”

“Well, she doesn’t talk; I’ve said that. She’s really quiet; well, she thinks she is. Not that quiet, really, I’ve worried about that sometimes… Anyway, she checks me out, feels me up, shows me what she wants to do. Then I do it or I show her what I want to do.”

“That’s reasonable. Can you tell me, how does she react when you communicate your preferences are different from hers?”

“To be honest? If she bites me once, we do it my way. If she keeps biting me, we do it her way…”

“Doctor,” the Examiner said, “I believe the panel has heard enough. Did you have any questions for Mr. Feaghan?”

“Of course,” the doctor said. He stopped the recording. “Shad, do you have anything to say?”

“I want to go home with my wife,” he said. “I know I have problems. I’m doing better. I have been as long as I’ve been with her. Let me be with her, and everything will be fine.”

“I’m sure you feel that way,” the doctor said. “Consider, though, we already heard some very intimate commentary about your relationship, in your own words. You spent almost half a year living with this woman. In that time, in your own words, she claimed not to recognize you at your first public meeting, she never said she loves you, and her approach to intimacy is, `She points and she takes, and no guy would say no’. Would that sound fine to you?”

“Look, I’m not stupid,” Shad said. “I know she doesn’t act the way women are supposed to. That’s why I love her, even if she doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Have you considered that you could have been assigned a partner by the state?” the doctor said. “In fact, you had your choice between Ms. O'Keefe and a state assignment. A witness said you didn’t even open the envelope. How can you be sure there isn’t a better partner for you?”

Chelsea pinched her nose and closed her eyes. “Well, I chose her,” he said. “And she chose me, didn’t she? She had more choices than I did. She could have gone back to her ex, she could have met another guy, she could have made her own petition. So why didn’t she? What does it say about the State process when their best caseworker would rather be with a guy she picked up in a theater at 4 in the morning? You think it’s coincidence we’re the ones on trial?”

“Mr. Feaghan, now you’re just being paranoid, which you have admitted is your problem,” the doctor said. “Now what’s logical, that the Arcostate would scheme against you, or that they would be intervening out of the same concerns your family and friends have expressed?”

“I’m paranoid? They sent cops to look through the things I made for my wife, and I’m paranoid?”

“Shad… you have admitted hitting a police robot in the face with a tool you used to carve metal,” the doctor said. “A decorated officer, who was only there to deliver a protective order, which he had no control over. To my understanding, the tool damaged the main sensor array, which was inside a housing rated to stop light projectile weapons fire. That is not `better’ or ‘fine’. Is there anything you can say about that? Perhaps any statements you’ve made that you would want to withdraw or revise?”

“No,” Shad said. “I don’t remember what happened. I don’t want to talk any more.”

“I’ve heard enough,” the Examiner said. A court attendant was already leading Shad back to the box. “Dr. Charleton, I would like to hear more from you.” As he took the seat, the Examiner said, “Now, Doctor, I understand you have previously filed an internal complaint against Ms. O’Keefe regarding her relationship with Mr. Feaghan.”

“Absolutely,” the doctor said. “First of all, I specifically opposed granting them a domestic partnership. I presented further evidence that my patient and Ms. O’Keefe must be separated for his own well-being. When I shared this assessment with senior Department representatives, they insisted they agreed. But they maintained that they couldn’t extend the hold without a hearing, which they were unprepared and frankly unwilling to pursue. After the partnership was granted, I was forced to proceed with a complaint against Ms. O’Keefe, only to have my concerns dismissed out of hand again. That was when I notified the Feaghan family of my concerns.”

The Examiner nodded. “Still, the Department found no cause for action,” he said. “By the testimony of both Parties and a witness, they met in private, by chance, without Ms. Feaghan O’Keefe recognizing Mr. O’Keefe, and had therapeutic relations by mutual consent.”

“I won’t speak to what Ms. O’Keefe knew,” the doctor said. “Even if she didn’t recognize him then, she still had direct access to his files, to intimate questionnaires, to her own extensive training. Can one even talk of consent, when one partner has such advantages over another who is already vulnerable? Beyond that, I doubt very much that this is an isolated event. Her department has been plagued by years of complaints, from clients, staff and their current and former partners, in which she has been mentioned a number of times. I can’t comment on the evidence, beyond the fact that it will be pursued.”

“Very well, then what can you say to Mr. Feaghan’s state of mind?” the Examiner said. “We have already heard him speak. I have to say, he might be unwise, even deceived, but he seems able to speak and think for himself. Can you explain why the Arcostate needs to intervene on his behalf?”

The doctor sighed. “That is the problem with men with non-intellectual disabilities,” he said. “My patient is not impaired in intelligence, nor is he violent or obviously delusional. His intelligence and reasoning are normal, indeed in many ways well above normal. When it comes to social and emotional reasoning, however, he is barely out of childhood. The ability to assess the intentions of others, to recognize lies, manipulation and exploitation, is for him nearly non-existent. His handicaps are even greater when it comes to communication. He can express his feelings toward Ms. O’Keefe, after a fashion, and believe me, even that is tremendous progress over where he was. Ask him to give a value judgment about how he may be treated, however, and you will find that he has no frame of reference beyond the most basic masculine stereotypes. A man isn’t manipulated with sexuality, at least without knowing he’s being manipulated. A man isn’t threatened by an unstable woman. A man doesn’t say no. And because of the same stereotypes, society sees a man getting what he wants rather than a seriously disabled citizen being taken advantage of.”

The doctor became visibly animated. “And we are talking about more than manipulation,” he said. “We are talking about a young man led into degeneracy, promiscuity, and moral contraband. I ask the judge to allow a sample of what he has created in just 6 months.”

“Dear Logos,” Chelsea said, “I really was starting to think you were a decent guy.”

Chelsea stared steadily at the ceiling. She maintained her interest only in watching the reactions of the panel. She snorted as the Kelsiraptor was brought out and inspected. The panelists turned their heads as her portrait was brought out. Her pose was largely the same as the one she held, except she was on her back with her legs over the back of their couch, and of course entirely nude. “I begged him to do that; he chose the pose,” she said to nobody in particular. Then she came upright as they set down a can of film. After an urgent exchange, Deve rose to speak.

“Ms. O’Keefe states that she has no knowledge of the contents of that film,” he said. “She was told by Mr. Feaghan that it was his intention that it had not and never would be seen by anyone but himself and her.” There was a red flicker in his black eyes. “Might I ask who has seen it?”

“By the terms of the warrant, it was turned over by the Counsel for the Feaghan family without being viewed,” the Examiner said. “We had it examined by an expert in Moral Contraband.  In fact, you seem to know each other.” As he spoke, Percy walked into the court room.