Chapter 17

"Your Honor, Just the Truth demands that the Bureau of Elections turn over all documents relating to its contractor Integrated Foxworth Technologies and the work it's been tasked with in the development of SafeVote. We have been trying for several months now to obtain information from this agency, first with informal inquiries, then with our Public Disclosure Request, then with an appeal to our request, but to no avail. That's why we're asking the court to intervene."

Attorney Sam Quinn stood before the judge's bench in the wood-paneled courtroom. On the wall behind the bench hung an oil painting of a scene from antiquity depicting the blindfolded Lady Justice in a diaphanous robe holding her scales, with attendants flanking her. The graceful beauty of the artist's rendition of the goddess of Justice contrasted sharply with the leather-tough features of the black-robed, unsmiling Judge Marianne Rogers, who opened her folder on the case, spread out the papers, and listened without expression. A white lace collar was the only touch of softness to contrast with her no-nonsense countenance.

A clerk at a small desk sat near the bench that morning when Sam Quinn filed a suit for Just the Truth and attorney Emmett Wallace filed a Motion to Dismiss on behalf of the Bureau of Elections. With no one present in the witness stand or jury box to absorb the sound, the lawyers' voices, full-throated and highly skilled in courtroom drama, echoed off the glossy wood walls.

Laura was the sole spectator at that hour, quietly observing from a pew in the public area beyond the balustrade. She listened as Sam related their saga with the Bureau of Elections to the judge.

" . . . So, Your Honor, after we filed an appeal specifically targeted to this one contractor, IFT, we received nothing more than a one-page response. Only one page of documentation, Your Honor, for a $400 million contract. And the information contained on that single page was ninety-five percent redacted, giving us only the full name of the company and its president and stating that it's located in Ireland!"

Judge Rogers nodded, saying, "You have a point."

Then, she turned to Emmett Wallace, a young man with a dress-for-success pin-striped suit and carefully styled hair.

"Good morning, Your Honor," he said, smiling broadly.

His friendly salutation received no reply from the judge.

His smile fading, Counselor Wallace continued, "The Bureau of Elections has responded to both the original Public Disclosure Request and the appeal within a reasonable timeframe."

"But your response was incomplete. Wasn't it?" the judge interjected.

"We are cooperating as best we can. We have produced thousands of pages of information."

"But nothing on the contract that Just the Truth is most interested in, the IFT deal. Isn't that the problem?" Judge Rogers asked Wallace.

"With the rollout of SafeVote just weeks away, the Bureau of Elections is facing exceptional circumstances. The Bureau is responsible for our new national voting system, and the country's eyes are on us! We are unduly swamped with work and will be until this rollout is accomplished."

The judge nodded. "You have a point, too, Counselor."

"We can't postpone Election Day for the sake of providing the plaintiff with materials. We are complying, and we will continue to comply with the disclosure requests, without the court's involvement. We ask that the court grant our Motion to Dismiss and give us more time to work this out with the plaintiff."

Sam objected, saying, "Judge Rogers, we acknowledge that Elections replied, but as you point out, the response was incomplete. We've given Elections ample time. They are not complying with their transparency obligations. We need the court's prodding to get them to move on this."

"But, Judge," Wallace responded, "there are also serious national security issues at play here. We can't release technical material involving the new voting system for fear of breaching its security. We have to painstakingly go through every document to be sure that security-related information is redacted. This takes time, Your Honor. We can't pull our staff off of the SafeVote project to serve the plaintiff's television channel and shirk our responsibility to the nation to rollout the new voting system on time and without snags."

"How is a company profile and a general description of the contractor's tasks in layman's terms a breach of national security? We haven't even received that much," Quinn remarked. "Your Honor, this is nothing more than a lame excuse!"

The judge turned to the defendant. "What about it, Mr. Wallace? Why are you giving the plaintiff the runaround?"

"Short of halting the agency's work and devoting ourselves to serving Just the Truth, instead of the public, we are already giving them expedited treatment, and we're producing documents in a timely fashion."

"But you're not complying with the law," declared Quinn. "Just the Truth is engaged in disseminating information to the public, and this is an important matter that must not be hidden from public view. Elections must be transparent, and the public disclosure laws are supposed to ensure that they are, especially at this crucial time when a new voting system is rolling out. This matter now needs intervention from the court, not more stalls and delays!"

The judge's head swiveled from side to side as each contestant served his best shot and hoped it would score. Just as Wallace was about to retort, the judge held up her hands.

"Enough! I've heard enough." She gathered her papers and placed them back in her folder. "I will give you my answer on Monday."

"But, Your Honor," Sam Quinn implored, holding his notes in one hand and gesturing with the other, "Election Day is fast approaching. The SafeVote launch is imminent. There's an urgency to inform the public on this matter. We need the court to intervene now to prevent any more stalls, delays, dodges, and withholding by Elections."

"On Monday, Mr. Quinn."

"Thank you, Judge," said Emmett Wallace, his charming smile returning. "We're confident the court will recognize how reasonable we're trying to be and give us more time."

"Don't patronize me, Counselor."

Judge Marianne Rogers closed her folder and left the room.

 

 

With Sam headed to another appointment in the courthouse, Laura rode alone in a taxi on the trip back to her office.

She leaned her head back, trying to assess what had just transpired in the courtroom and how the judge would rule. She had to admit that she couldn't read the judge or venture a guess. She would have to wait until Monday to learn the fate of her lawsuit.

She grabbed her phone and skimmed through the latest postings on her news feed. One article that was just coming across the wires captured her interest. It reported that after ten days, the protests at Collier University had finally ended. At first, she was relieved. Then she read further.

"Oh, no!" she blurted out involuntarily.

The driver turned his head. "Hey, lady, are you okay?"

"Uh . . . yes." She managed an absent-minded reply as she continued reading.

The occupiers had finally left the administration building and campus, and the students were beginning their return to normalcy. All but Kate Taninger. She had been expelled.