ir, I can't."

"For the present," the judge said, "your religious impiety can be
waived, since it is a first offense. But non-drug addiction is a major
crime against the state of Omega. The uninterrupted use of drugs is an
enforced privilege of every citizen. It is well known that privileges
must be exercised, otherwise they will be lost. To lose our privileges
would be to lose the very cornerstone of our liberty. Therefore to
reject or otherwise fail to perform a privilege is tantamount to high
treason."

There was a pause. The guards shuffled their feet restlessly. Barrent,
who considered his situation hopeless, stood at attention and waited.

"Drugs serve many purposes," the hidden judge went on. "I need not
enumerate their desirable qualities for the user. But speaking from the
viewpoint of the state, I will tell you that an addicted populace is a
loyal populace; that drugs are a major source of tax revenue; that drugs
exemplify our entire way of life. Furthermore, I say to you that the
nonaddicted minorities have invariably proven hostile to native Omegan
institutions. I give you this lengthy explanation, Will Barrent, in
order that you may better understand the sentence which is to be passed
upon you."

"Sir," Barrent said, "I was wrong in avoiding addiction. I won't plead
ignorance, because I know the law doesn't recognize that excuse. But I
will ask you most humbly for another chance. I ask you to remember, sir,
that addiction and rehabilitation are still possible for me."

"The court recognizes that," the judge said. "For that reason, the court
is pleased to exercise its fullest powers of judicial mercy. Instead of
summary execution, you may choose between two lesser decrees. The first
is punitive; that you shall suffer the loss of your right hand and left
leg in atonement for your crime against the State; but that you shall
not lose your life."

Barrent gulped and asked, "What is the other decree, sir?"

"The other decree, which is nonpunitive, is that you shall undergo a
Trial by Ordeal. And that, if you survive such a trial, you shall be
returned to appropriate rank and position in society."

"I'll take the Trial by Ordeal," Barrent said.

"Very well," said the judge. "Let the case proceed."

Barrent was led from the room. Behind him, he heard a quickly concealed
laugh from one of the guards. Had he chosen wrong? he wondered. Could a
trial by ordeal be worse than outright mutilation?

Chap