"Yes," the balding man said. "I'd like to know how Dr. Fletcher developed transoption."
"Good question." Rivers looked over to her. "Dr. Fletcher?" That's more like it, she thought. "I first became interested in alternatives to abortion about twenty years ago, when I saw what psychological devastation such a life-or-death decision imposed on women. When the processes of laser microsur-gery and fiberoptics became widely available, I realized that a fetus could probably be removed intact from one woman and implanted into another with only a moderate amount of diffi-culty. Even though I hadn't done any animal experiments, I was certain that a method could-"
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Rivers said as the audience camera zoomed in on him. "We've got to cut away for a moment and take a break. We'll be right back."
"Clear for commercial," a tinny voice called over the studio speakers. Rivers flashed Evelyn the OK sign. "Doing great!" he said, barely looking at her as he bent over to speak to one earnest woman.
"Ten seconds," the lo-fi voice announced. "Nine...eight..." At three seconds, the speaker fell silent, and the floor director took over with his own fingers, then pointed at Rivers.
"Welcome back. We're talking to Dr. Evelyn Fletcher, cur-rently on trial in the Baby Renata case. We're-"
"I'm not on trial as such," she interjected. "The plaintiff is seeking an injunction against me for-"
"You could lose your license to practice medicine, couldn't you?"
"Yes," she said irritably. "But that's a BMQA hearing, not a trial."
"BMQA," he said, turning to the audience, "is the California Board of Medical Quality Assurance, am I right?"
"Yes," Fletcher said. He was asking questions, she realized, in the same tone and manner he had asked the celebrity hook-ers about their opinions of liposuction and tanning booths. This would not be a productive exercise unless she could seize the cameras.
"You've got an urgent question, don't you?" Rivers asked the woman he had spoken to at the break.
"Yes," she said, standing. "Would you perform animal ex-periments if you could?" Fletcher knew a trap when she saw one. Not wanting to go off on that particular tangent, she said,
"Most medical scien-tists would prefer that there be a strong basis in animal re-search before a medical technique is tested on human sub-jects. Because of what I was forced to do with transoption, we now know it works and animal research would seem to be unnecessary."
Scattered applause arose from the audience. Rivers patted his hands against the air.
"Now wait. That's fine that you don't need to test it on Lassie and Bonzo. But you performed your first experiment on an uninformed human female. How-"
"Karen Chandler knew exactly what sort of surgery she would be getting."
"I didn't mean Karen, I meant Valerie Dalton."
Fletcher's voice grew stern. "Valerie Dalton was not èxperi-mented' upon. She came in for a pregnancy termination and received just that. I could have used a coat hanger and gotten less outrage than I have for using a device that removed the fetus alive. Why doesn't anyone focus on that? I was legally and professionally entitled to suck out and cut up that fetus to free Valerie from her pregnancy. I did it in a nondestructive manner that-"
"We've got to-"
"Let me finish!"
"I'd love to, but we've got to break away for just a moment." The audience muttered and jabbered amongst themselves during the pause. Fletcher merely sat in her chair and fumed. She could not simply storm off the set, though that was her initial instinct. Instead, she sat furiously still, arms gripping the chair, awaiting the next brief opportunity.
"Ready to sum up?" Rivers asked, joining her on the set.
"Sum up?"
"I've got two other guests after you. We've got to give transoption a balanced viewpoint."
"I thought I'd be the only one."
Rivers looked shocked. "There must have been a screwup in communication. No, I've got two others scheduled."
"Anyone I know?" she asked slowly.
"Jane Burke and Pastor Avery Decker."
Get me off this show, she pleaded to an unhearing deity. "Then let me have my say right now."
"Fair enough."
When the director cued him, Rivers looked deep into the camera with his dark eyes and said, "Dr. Evelyn Fletcher-pioneer or mad scientist? Here she is in her own words." He nodded over to her.
"Thanks, Gerry." She gazed into the camera as if she could pinion the viewers to their couches.
"What no one is willing to acknowledge in this entire affair is that I managed to save a baby from certain death. And even so, I gave Valerie Dalton the way out of pregnancy that she wanted. I satisfied her minimum requirement-that her pregnancy end. As a bonus, though, I also gave another woman a chance to bring a baby into the world. They both got what they wanted. And I'm cer-tain that if you interview Renata in a few years, she'll be happy with the outcome, too."
"So you feel," Rivers cut in quickly, "that Valerie Dalton has an obligation to keep Renata alive? After all, it's her bone mar-row that is vital to Renata's health."
Fletcher thought for a short moment. "That," she said, "is actually a very good question. No, I don't think Valerie has any more obligation to keep Renata alive now than she did when she came to me last March. All she has is the obligation not to kill Renata."
Rivers seemed genuinely puzzled. "What's the difference?"
"It's the difference between acceding to transoption and demanding abortion. It's the difference between expelling a fetus and killing it. It's the difference..." she searched for the concept, "between abandonment and infanticide. One allows the possibility of rescue. The other takes an active hand in making rescue impossible. That is the difference between transoption and abortion." Fletcher shook her head. "No. If I believed that Valerie was under some sort of obligation to care for Renata, I would never have performed the transoption. There are some rights that you must recognize whether you approve of them or not. A woman has a right at any point to abandon her child. Anything less would be slavery. She has no right, though, to kill that child. And I have every right to take in an abandoned child of any age."
"We'll be right back," Rivers said to the camera. When the red light flicked off, he turned to Fletcher and smiled. "Well done. If I could have you move down one seat, we'll get into a discussion with Ms. Burke-"
"Sorry." Evelyn stood, removing her microphone to lay it on the chair. "I made my point. I'm not going to endure their abuse."
"Why not? I mean, they aren't here to abuse you. They just want their points of view aired, too."
"Then air them. You don't need me for that. Theirs are the same viewpoints that have been aired for centuries: slavery for women or death for infants. Have fun." She stepped off the risers. A voice over the loudspeaker demanded to know what was going on.
Rivers sat back in his chair. "People might draw the wrong inference if you're not here after the commercials."
She turned to face him. "If my words didn't convince them of anything, neither would my forbearance."
Rivers raised a hand in defeat. "Have a nice day."
"
The door to Terry Johnson's office swung open. Dr. Fletcher stood there, staring at the cramped enclosure. Her eyes nar-rowed, focusing in on Terry behind the small grey military-surplus desk.