A Handicap of the Devil? by Allen Lyne

control. They had risen to positions of power in commerce and in politics. After all, politics in parliamentary democracies was about passing legislation, making laws, was it not? Therefore, who better to be elected to parliament than people with legal training? So the argument went, and the rank and file of political parties went along with it. In Australia, lawyers are very nearly held in as much awe as doctors.
    A fanfare of trumpets echoed through the hall. Two law students, especially chosen for the task, swung open the great doors with a crash. A second fanfare sounded and right on the crescendo, in swept Jones P. senior with his entourage of toadies and bodyguards. Everyone present stood as the President of The Legal Rulers Society moved to the dais. Three hearty cheers roared out. All present toasted the president in cask wine, red or white.
    The great man himself was handed a paper cup full of his favourite cask red. Jones P. senior held up his hands and quieted the crowd. He raised his own paper cup and proposed a toast....
    "To the rulers. To our law. To the legal rulers of the world!"
    ...The crowd roared back the toast at him, and Jones P. senior drank deep, along with everybody else. It was the best wine anyone present had ever tasted, apart from the odd occasion when they got bottled wine for nothing—and even then most of them couldn't tell the difference.
    The legal profession of Australia had gathered here at very short notice. They had made travel arrangements from all points of the compass the moment Jones P. senior's e-mail had arrived. The news it contained had been expected for some time, and a special code word had alerted each one to what was afoot, and what they had to do.
    Trials were delayed due to ‘the ill health of the defence counsel’ or some other excuse. Most of those present had been able to justify expenses on the basis of a needed trip to Adelaide to meet with fellow attorneys, witnesses or other notables. These people supposedly had ‘information vital to the case’ the lawyers were working on. The clients wouldn't notice the difference, and if they did, what did it matter? Who were they going to complain to? A lawyer? Legal fees were not controlled by government legislation. Any lawyer worth his or her salt could justify any expenses whatever for any reason. This was an integral part of their training. It is amazing how many lawyers from other states—on expenses from clients—attend test matches, football grand finals and big horse races in Australia's major cities.
    So the lawyers of Australia had gathered as ordered by the president of their very secret club, The Legal Rulers Society. International brethren were winging their way hence, as many as could reasonably be released from the onerous task of making piles of money. Further meetings were scheduled over the next week to bring everyone up to speed. They had to understand their assigned tasks when the moment came to seize power.
    Jones P. senior finished his refreshing draught of cask red and nodded to one of the students to refill his paper cup. He rapped his gavel on the podium, called for order and began his speech.
    "Hajulellah.” Jones P. senior had a thin, piping voice that sat oddly with his large frame. The microphone set into the podium amplified his voice, and it bounced off the walls—penetrating the earwax of the assembled throng.
    "Hajulellah.” The mob cried in reply.
    "Hajulellah, fellow servants of our dark master. The time is at hand. I bear tidings to you that our day is come."
    "Hajulellah! Hajulellah!” The lawyers roared in response.
    "The Devil himself has spoken. Plan A is in operation. A messenger from God has been appointed to tell all the goody two-shoes on Earth to reform."
    A lawyer with a wart on his nose leapt to his feet. “Who is this messenger? We'll tear him apart."
    "Hajulellah!” The mob roared.
    "Let us at him!" A fat, blond, female solicitor punched the man next to her in