She looked out at the spectators to stare at Ian, searching his eyes for something, anything. He gazed back at her, dis-passionately cool. Their past was a closed book; she could no longer read him. She paused, her mind suddenly focusing on a new thought. 'In fact,' she said slowly, still looking at Brunner, 'there are places inside the male body where a fetus could be attached, brought to term and delivered by Caes-'
Her Metagram receiver beeped inside her jacket pocket. She reached in to silence it.
'I'm not interested in your scientific fantasies,' Czernek said sternly. Fletcher withdrew the receiver and read the LCD display.
Czernek continued, not noticing the doctor's action. 'The evidence has shown that she's suffered incredible pain, both mental and physical, to keep Renata alive-'
Fletcher stared at the words. Her worst fears had come to pass.
No stem cell act. Temp. spikes 101+
'Dr. Fletcher, are you listening to me?'
'To hell with you,' she said, holding up the receiver. 'Renata's dying, and you're bickering over who'll get the corpse.' She bounded from the witness stand toward Valerie.
'Bailiff-' Lyang pointed at Fletcher. The tall, husky man stepped toward her as she leaned over Valerie.
'Renata needs marrow. Right now. Let's go.'
'Stay right here, please,' the bailiff said, firmly gripping Evelyn's arm.
'Motion to recess!' Johnson shouted.
'Move to declare a mistrial!' Czernek said even louder. 'She's clearly seeking to prejudice the jury-' A single nerve-stunning blow from Lyang's gavel silenced everyone except Fletcher.
'-got to do it now before the temperature spikes get too-'
'Dr. Fletcher.' The judge's voice ran cold. 'Is this mere his-trionics, or is the child's life really in danger?'
'She's running temperature spikes. That means some infection's taken advantage of her depressed immune system. She'll be put on antibiotics and antifungals, but she needs more marrow. Now. We've got to try to kick start her stem-'
'Very well, Doctor. Court is recessed until Monday.' The gavel fell. Its sound was lost in the chaos that erupted.
Valerie stood. The bailiff released Fletcher's right arm. Her left was seized by Czernek.
'Val-you're not going through with this, are you? The jury's watching.' Valerie stared at him with an arctic gaze. 'Let go of her.' The two women strode from the courtroom into a sea of reporters, lights, and shouted questions. Fletcher said noth-ing, using one arm to blaze a trail while holding Valerie's hand tightly in the other. They made it to the steps of the court-house in record time.
The crowd outside must have been watching Fletcher's tes-timony. Shouts emanated from both sides, accompanied by thrusting signs and waving fists. Toward the center, though, stood a tiny knot of people with signs lettered in bright DayGlo colors. They stood silently. Then, as the pair approached, they pressed backward with all their might to create a narrow path for Evelyn and Valerie. Valerie read the signs. Each one said the same thing.
Transoption:
A Woman's Choice
A Baby's Right!
They guided Valerie and Dr. Fletcher through the crowd. The faces on the men and women-nearly all of them in their early twenties-possessed the serious intensity of people who had just found a new battle to fight, a new precept to defend. Or perhaps an old one to attack.
Several of the young people laid their hands on Fletcher's shoulders and back as they propelled the pair toward the car. Sympathetic arms gently embraced Valerie.
A woman not more than twenty wedged her way up to the pair to announce, 'If I'd only known transoption existed, I wouldn't have had an abortion.' Her pretty face was set in a grave expression. The jostling of the crowd
