Chapter 66: The Trial of the Semicolon
The "Cosmic Wedding" had left a trail of stardust and stability, but the High Authorities of the Narrative did not approve of bridges. At 08:00 Cycles, the Bureau's ceiling didn't just reveal the vellum sky—it opened like a heavy, leather-bound law book.
A beam of blinding, antiseptic white light descended, and before Ne Job could finish his morning Victory Roast, he was no longer in Section C-7. He was standing in a prisoner's dock made of Rigid Proclamation.
"Commissioner Ne Job," a voice boomed, sounding like the closing of a heavy vault. "You are charged with Illegal Continuity, Narrative Loitering, and the Unlawful Use of a Semicolon to prevent a natural 'The End'."
The Court of High Narrative
The Judge was not a man, but a giant, floating Gavel of Absolute Finality. To Ne Job's left sat the Prosecution: a faceless clerk in a suit made of "Eraser Dust" who represented the Department of Closures.
"Look at the defendant!" the Prosecutor sneered, his voice a dry rasp. "He has reached Chapter 66! By all laws of the 'Standard Short Story,' this should have been over at Chapter 10. He is dragging out the 'And' against the will of the Page!"
"Objection!" a voice squeaked. Ne Job looked over to see Pip wearing a powdered wig that was 7.5% too large. "My client isn't 'Dragging it out'! He's 'Expanding the Scope'! There's a difference!"
"Quiet, Intern!" the Gavel thundered, shaking the room.
The Evidence of the 'And'
The Prosecutor presented the evidence:
The Silver Stapler: "A tool used to force together scenes that should have drifted apart!"
The Galaxy in the Cabinet: "A blatant disregard for Zonal Reality!"
The Semicolon: "The ultimate weapon of the Indecisive!"
"He uses this punctuation to cheat death!" the Prosecutor cried. "When the story wants to stop, he adds a dot and a comma! He is a Temporal Squatter!"
Ne Job stood tall, his silver-plumed hat slightly askew but his gaze 100% steady. "I don't cheat death," Ne Job said. " I negotiate with Life. The Bureau isn't a 'Short Story.' It's a Celestial Clockwork. And clocks don't stop just because you've read the time."
The Testimony of the Muse
The Muse was called to the stand. She didn't walk; she sparkled. "Your Honor," she said, her hair pulsing with a defiant neon-gold. "Without Ne Job's 'Illegal Continuity,' the Bride and Groom from Chapter 65 would be a 'Dead End' and a 'Blank Space.' He didn't just keep them going; he gave them a Harmony."
"Irrelevant!" the Gavel roared. "Harmony is not efficient! Efficiency requires a Period! A Finality! The Author is running out of ink!"
"The Author is never out of ink," Ne Job interrupted, leaning over the dock. "The Author is just afraid of the next sentence. I'm the one who makes sure the next sentence is worth writing."
The 7.5% Legal Loophole
The Judge began to descend, preparing to strike the "Verdict of Erasure."
"Wait!" Pip shouted, frantically flipping through a book titled The Fine Print of Infinity. "According to Article 7, Section C, Paragraph 5 of the Original Addendum: 'No story shall be forcibly closed so long as an Anomaly remains unresolved.' And Ne Job is the biggest Anomaly in the Bureau!"
The Gavel paused mid-air. "He is an Archivist. Archivists are 100% predictable."
"Not this one," Ne Job smiled. He pulled out his silver stapler and, instead of stapling a document, he KA-CHUNKED his own 7.5% Badge to the Judge's bench. "I am the Commissioner of the 'And.' And as long as I'm uncertain, the case cannot be closed."
The Mistrial of the Ages
The Gavel shuddered. It couldn't rule on an Anomaly. The logic of the Court began to loop. The antiseptic white light turned into a soft, violet glow as the "Semicolon Energy" from Ne Job's badge infected the room.
"Case... Adjourned!" the Judge sputtered, the Gavel shrinking until it was just a regular wooden mallet. "But we will be watching, Ne Job! One day, the ink will run dry!"
"Then I'll use my own blood," Ne Job whispered.
The Return to the Desk
Ne Job woke up back in his chair in Section C-7. The "Subpoena" on his desk had turned into a "Certificate of Continued Existence."
LOG: CHAPTER 66 SUMMARY.
STATUS: Trial survived. Continuity legalized.
NOTE: I really need a better lawyer than an Intern in a wig.
OBSERVATION: The Law wants things to end. The Heart wants things to continue. I'll stick with the Heart.
P.S.: Pip is refusing to take off the powdered wig. They say it gives them '7.5% more Authority.'
The Muse leaned over his shoulder, her hair back to its electric-blue. "You were brave, Ne Job. You stared down the Finality."
Ne Job looked at the Semicolon. It was glowing with a fierce, unbreakable violet.
"I didn't do it alone, Muse," Ne Job said. "Now, why is Architect Ao Bing screaming that the Great Mainspring has started growing 'Clockwork Flowers' and why do they smell like 'Lost Memories'?"