She looked at it. 'Yes,' she said, 'it is.'
'Am I correct that it says nowhere on that contract that you were to receive an abortion?' She looked at Ron, then at the jury. 'Yes. I thought the word-ing was a bit strange, but the way people use euphemisms for everything these days-'
'What term do you see that you thought meant abortion?''
'The term was `pregnancy termination.''
'And you thought that the only way to terminate a pregnancy was through an abortion?'
'Of course.'
Johnson pointed at the screen. 'It says right here that the undersigned-that's you, Ms. Dalton-`relinquishes any and all claim to tissues removed during said pregnancy termina-tion.' Did you agree to that?'
'I don't remember,' she said. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
'Are you in the habit of forgetting what you sign?'
'No, I remember it.'
'Did Ron Czernek read it?'
'Yes.'
'I see.' Johnson began walking about again. He handed a copy of the contract to Czernek, then to the clerk, saying, 'Please make this contract Exhibit A.' He put his hands in his pockets. 'So you knew that the abortion you wanted would result in the-Well, I want to say `death,' but how about the `cessation of viability' of the fetus?'
'Yes,' Valerie said.
'Since you didn't consider it a living human being, though, you contracted with Dr. Fletcher to have it vacuumed out of you and disposed of. Is that a clear statement of the facts?' Valerie paused, looking to Ron for guidance. The lawyer's jaw tightened. He could object to the argumentative nature of the question, but the issue would remain. His head nodded ever so slightly.
'Yes,' Valerie said without emotion.
'And you meant to sign away any claim to this non-living bit of tissue?'
'Yes.'
Johnson walked over to the witness stand, placed both hands on the rail, and looked her fiercely in the eye. 'Why, then, are you now laying claim to this bit of garbage you threw out?' Czernek shouted a loud objection. Johnson shouted even louder over the other lawyer's protest.
'Why do you suddenly care about this child that a few short months ago you paid to have killed?'
'Objection! I want that stricken from the record! Harassing the wit-'
'I am capable,' the judge said loudly, 'of discerning harass-ment, Mr. Czernek.' Ron sat down, fuming. Lyang laid down her gavel and folded her hands. 'Approach the bench.' The lawyers stepped toward the judge.
'Mr. Johnson,' she whispered, 'the entire subject of abor-tion and the rights of the unborn is frightfully emotion laden, as the two groups of protesters outside this courtroom dem-onstrate. You do your clients' case no good by harassing the plaintiff.' She glanced down at the court reporter, a young man fingering the keys of a battered old Stenotype. 'The last two questions shall be stricken from the record, and'-she turned to the jury box-'the jury is to disregard the nature of the ques-tion and any inferences they may draw having heard it. You may continue, Mr. Johnson.'
'No further questions, Your Honor.' I've never heard of a jury yet that could erase its own memory.
'Then I suggest we recess for lunch,' Lyang said, knocking once with her gavel.
XV
'If his tactic is to act self-righteous and abusive,' Ron said, 'it can only help our case.' He faced Valerie across a small blue table in the courthouse cafeteria. A few yards away sat Johnson, the Chandlers, and Dr. Fletcher. Johnson spoke quietly, but with intense empha-sis about something. Czernek glanced over at them, then turned his attention back to Valerie.
