turn. 'Custody shall, in large part, be determined by the best interests of the child, based upon the evidence presented to you in court. In addition, there is the matter of the injunction against Dr. Evelyn Fletcher and the thirty million dollars in damages. Your decision in this matter must be based upon the question of fraud or criminal intent as answered by the evidence presented in this court.' She glanced at Valerie with a professional lack of emotion. 'Please keep in mind the unusual nature of the final witness's testimony.' She flipped open a book to read the jurors a lengthy set of instructions. Each of the six took extensive notes. These were their guidelines, the rules by which they would render their verdict.
When Lyang finished reading, the clerk strode over to the jury box to open the railing. One by one, the six jurors sol-emnly stepped through the door in the rear of the courtroom. When they were out of the room and the door closed with a heavy sound, Lyang took a deep breath and settled back in her chair.
'This should be quick,' Johnson murmured happily to Fletcher. 'She just about handed them a directed verdict.'
'I'd pop out for a smoke,' Evelyn whispered, 'but I don't want to miss this.' After five minutes passed, Valerie leaned over to Johnson. 'How long does this usually take?' He shrugged. 'I've observed trials where juries walk in and turn right around again.'
'What's taking them so long?' Karen asked.
'They probably wanted some coffee.' Johnson turned his attention to his notes. He sorted them, numbered pages, as-signed sheets to various manilla folders. Karen and David whispered something between themselves while Fletcher leaned back along the bar.
'So what do you think, Ian?' she casually whispered to Dr. Brunner. Her heart raced at a pace fueled by her brash at-tempt to bridge a years-long gap in conversation.
'I think you're in a frightening amount of hot water outside this courtroom,' he whispered back, folding his arms on the rail. 'Even if they granted you custody of the kid, it won't mean a thing to Bumqua.'
She nodded casually. 'Yes, I know I'm washed up here. Think there'll be any interest in transoption research outside the U.S.?'
Brunner's expression softened. 'What floors me,' he whis-pered, 'is that my office has registered over one hundred calls this last week. All of them from women who want to get hooked up with a recipient for their embryos.'
Fletcher jerked her head around to stare at him in utter shock. 'What?' Judge Lyang glowered down at them.
Brunner nodded. 'I seriously think you've tapped into some sort of zeitgeist.' He circled his finger around to indicate the room. 'The State may not be ready for transoption, and the Christians and the feminists may not be ready, but the preg-nant women are.'
Fletcher laid a hand on his sleeve. 'Listen, if you need my notes or a working model of the suction-'
'Forget it,' he said. His voice revealed a mixture of regret and fear. 'Transoption is going to have the status illegal abor-tions had for the last century. And that's probably how they'll be performed for years to come. In the counter-economy. I'm a reputable researcher.' He paused, then leaned closer, his voice dropping nearly to the limit of audibility. 'I've submitted a carefully worded request for animal-research funds, though. I've got a protege who's keen to start a legitimate, peer-re-viewed project.'
'That's great,' she whispered. An ancient wall between them had crumbled. Brunner shook his head. 'A lot will depend on what the jury has to say.' He pointed to his Breitling watch. 'Doesn't look good.'
Fletcher leaned over to Johnson. 'It's been fifteen minutes. What's going on?' Damned if I know. 'I think they may be dotting is and cross-ing ts.' He was unable, though, to hide the concern on his face.
'Are we sunk?' she asked.
Judge Lyang cleared her throat. 'The jury seems to be tak-ing their time, so court will recess until a verdict is delivered.' The gavel rapped once.
Reporters assumed their positions outside the courtroom. Most of the questions Johnson fended off concerned the fate of the trial and any insight he might have into the minds of the jurors.
'I have no idea what they're thinking,' he said. 'There can be only one verdict for them to reach. All we have to do is wait.'
After a long lunch in the cafeteria, Johnson left to spend a few minutes with the court clerk. He returned with a crest-fallen expression.
'He said the jury's informed Lyang that they won't have a verdict today. He's told the rest of us to go home and return tomorrow.'
'That's bad, isn't it?' Valerie asked.
