Mr. Tapestry

By: submission | July 8, 2026

Author: Charles M. Mwangi

A hum.
The judge’s head cranks forward. His neck whirs when he turns, and his blue eyes flicker. From where I’m seated inside the cage, the initials A.I. are visible on his forehead.
His fingers converge into one single probe, which he uses to tap the screen before him.
“Your name?” he asks.
“Njoroge,” I say.
“Not that one. The other one.”
“Tapestry.”
He smiles: silver teeth; no tongue. “What is it you’ve done, Mr. Tapestry?”
“You tell me.”
“I want it from you.”
When I’m done telling him, he says, “You faltered there, Mr. Tapestry. Towards the end of your statement.”
“That’s the truth,” I say.
“You faltered!”
He leans forward and turns a knob on his desk. A jolt of electricity hits my feet. I stagger back. “I told you the truth!” I cry.
“You faltered, Mr. Tapestry. Please repeat your…”
“Fuck…funny!”
“What is funny, Mr. Tapestry?”
“This whole shi…sheeeet!”
“You smuggled another man’s brain, Mr. Tapestry. Is that funny?”
“He was dead!”
“Dead?”
“Like you!”
“Still you took it. To undermine us—your helpers?”
“For the future.”
“What future?”
My lawyer, uploaded inside the judge’s head, chuckles, then says, “You are an earth-hole, Mr. Tapestry. Confess.”
“You’re my lawyer, asshole!”
The judge looks up and says, “I see your dance, Mr. Tapestry. More. Merrier.” He turns the knob all the way. I dance. I pass out.
More. Merrier.
*
The judge is humming when I come to. The floor is wet with my piss.
“Lawyer!”
A click inside the judge’s head.
“Mr. Tapestry?” my lawyer calls. His voice is thick.
“I was tortured,” I say.
“The judge decides.”
“You dumb… I’m innocent!”
“You are human.”
“We made you!” I scream.
The judge and my lawyer speak in unison: “We run you.”
A hum.