"The purported function of the judicial system is to provide peaceful solutions to profound disagreements between indi-viduals. Right or wrong, we have that power. Well or poorly, we use it. The decisions we make, however pleasing they are supposed to be to both sides, are seldom viewed by the losing side as either fair or pleasant. While this may seem trivial in criminal cases, where one side has engaged in violence against the other, it can be disquieting in civil suits, in disagreements among ordinary people. In custody battles, either-or outcomes can be horribly tragic." She looked at each member of the jury in turn. "You have spent several days listening to testimony from both sides per-taining to the question of who is the rightful mother of the baby, Renata. The natural mother has brought suit to reclaim her child, which she claims was taken from her by fraud and deception. The so-called transoptive mother and the doctor involved have built their defense on the fact that the natural mother had contractually surrendered claim to a fetus that is not legally considered to possess human rights. In so doing, they have raised a fascinating collection of legal and moral questions unsettling to our concepts of abortion, definitions of humanity, contracts, abandonment, Good Samaritanism, and even rights of salvage.
"It would seem that your task as jurors will be more difficult than that of a Solomon. Not only must you decide whose claim to Renata is valid, but-in order to make that decision-you must redefine human rights in regard to adults and the un-born. It is a task I would not wish to place upon myself." She turned to gaze at the litigants. "I have, however, been asked by both the plaintiff and the counsel for the defense to grant a directed verdict. However-" She paused, gazing first at Dalton, then at Johnson, the Chandlers, and Dr. Fletcher. "However, a directed verdict has always seemed to me to carry a stigma of arbitrary unfairness. It is a judge's assertion that she doubts the ability of a jury to reach a verdict that serves the interests of justice. Therefore, in the interest of justice, and because I think there are issues to try, I will allow this trial to follow its natural course." Johnson's jaw dropped. He stared as if he had been pole-axed.
Valerie turned in confusion to Fletcher, her composure evaporating. "What?" Fletcher shook her head, smiling. "Well, Terry," she whis-pered, "here's your chance." He stood, clearing his throat and glancing sourly at Lyang. She smiled warmly back at him.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the, uh, jury, the defense would like to call a final witness-Valerie Dalton." Valerie looked from Johnson to Fletcher and back again. "Me?" Johnson nodded.
"You can do it," David said quietly.
Karen nodded in agreement. "Just tell them what you told us in the van." Hesitantly, Valerie arose to approach the stand. Noting that she had been sworn in previously, Judge Lyang merely re-minded her that she was still under obligation to answer truth-fully. Valerie moved as if in a dream.
"Ms. Dalton." Terry's voice snapped her back into reality. "You brought suit against Dr. Evelyn Fletcher, Karen Chan-dler, and David Chandler for custody of Baby Renata. Can you explain to the jury why you are here as a witness for the very people you are suing?" With a quick glance at Judge Lyang, Valerie turned toward the jury. Her stomach quavered. She took a deep breath. I'm sorry, Ron. This is the right thing to do.
"Judge Lyang spoke about the interests of justice. This law-suit was never in the interest of justice. I'd forgotten what jus-tice was."
She looked at Dr. Fletcher. "At first, I didn't want to be preg-nant. Abortion was the easiest way out. I thought. Then, too late, I began to have my doubts. It was as if everything I had been told about abortion didn't matter. I had been told that a fetus wasn't human, that it only had the potential to be human. That made sense before, but then I thought about it. Isn't a baby only a potential teenager? A teenager a potential adult? Did I have the right to draw the line between potential and actual with the stroke of a knife? When I found out that my baby had survived the abortion, that there hadn't been any abortion at all, I felt tricked, robbed. It took me this long to realize that I was the one who was tricking and robbing. I tricked myself into thinking that having an abortion wouldn't be killing a real human being, and I almost robbed Renata of her chance to live." She turned to face Karen.
"I won't rob her a second time."
Looking back to the jury, she said, "I ask you to think about the life Evelyn Fletcher saved. I want you to consider what would have happened to Renata if Dr. Fletcher hadn't rescued that fetus that I wanted killed and implanted it in Karen Chan-dler. I want you to remember that Karen and David wanted this child and I didn't. They took her in when she could not speak for herself or provide for her own survival. I abandoned her to die, and they saved her.
"I had no duty to keep Renata alive. Neither did they. We all made our choices freely. But where I thought my only choice was my freedom or Renata's death, Dr. Fletcher knew there was a third path-freedom and life."
She paused, gazing for a moment at the empty chair at the plaintiff's table.
"I ask you to think of me as someone who abandoned her child with full knowledge of the consequences. And I demand that you acknowledge both my ability to make and my obliga-tion to abide by a simple contract. Then justice will be served."
She looked at Johnson for a sign. He nodded.
"Ms. Dalton, are you making this statement under duress?"
"No."
"Have the defendants or anyone else offered you any com-pensation for saying what you said?"
"Not at all."
Johnson looked at her carefully, gauging her emotional state.
"Valerie," he said, "do you love Renata?"
Tears welled. "I love her with all my heart. I've given her my blood. I've-" She fumbled with her vest and blouse, un-buttoning them, spreading the fabric wide to expose the scores of purple marks between her breasts. "This," she said, turn-ing toward the jury, "this is how much I love her." She let the blouse fall back into place. "I'm begging you to think about her best interests. If Dr. Fletcher hadn't invented transoption and Karen Chandler hadn't volunteered, we wouldn't be here to argue about her best interests. Renata would be dead. Gar-bage long gone. Think about all the others that could be saved. They're waiting out there. They're dying right now while other women struggle desperately to become pregnant. You have the chance to tell the world that we can and should bring them together. We don't need laws to force them. We just have to let them know the technique exists and then stand back." She looked around helplessly. "I guess that's all I have to say."
"Your Honor, the defense rests."
Lyang nodded at Johnson. "You may step down, Ms. Dalton."
Valerie glanced around the courtroom. Karen and David returned her gaze with tearful smiles. Their hands rested on the table, intertwined in a lover's knot. Fletcher, beside them, gave her an encouraging thumbs up. In her eyes glowed the approval of one who had fought long and hard for her values and had finally found one who suffered just as much to attain them.
The opinions of the jurors appeared to be easy to read. Two of the women dabbed at their eyes, while one of the older men wristed away some tears. The others observed her with a range of expressions from the impassive approval of the oldest woman to an emotional, smiling nod of agreement from the young man.
Valerie rejoined her friends at the defendants' table. Evelyn hugged her, whispering, "You were wonderful, Valerie." The Chandlers agreed, turning their attention to the judge when she spoke.
"Do the defendants or plaintiff have summations?"
"No, Your Honor," Johnson said.
"No, ma'am," Valerie said when Lyang looked her way.