Stephen Cannell - Runaway Heart

Traffic was pinwheeling everywhere, tortured rubber burning and squealing. Jack was aiming the car more than driving it. He spun the wheel to the right as a horn blared and a big rig started jackknifing, all eighteen tires smoking. "Good one," Jack shouted.

His car began pinwheeling as well round and round, trees and signs and off-ramps whirling by in a confusing array of colors and shapes. Then it shuddered to a stop.

The helicopter hovered in front of him, and landed on the freeway. Men were running around waving their arms and stopping traffic. Jack was still sitting behind the wheel smiling when the door was yanked open. Shane Scully unbuckled him and pulled him out.

"Shane, we're taking a trip. We went up the freeway off-ramp," Jack grinned.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" Shane asked, looking into Jack's eyes, staring at blown-out pupils.

"Nothing, Shane. Nothing," Jack said. "I'm having great thoughts. Oops, Gotta vomit."

And he threw up on his ex-partner's shoes.

Jack's head was throbbing. It felt thick as oatmeal, heavy as a fifty-pound medicine ball. He was in the back row of Federal District Courtroom Sixteen, wedged between two more unlikely characters. On his right was a skinny old man with a string bean. On Jack's other side, snoring like Bluto's wife after a hard night of drinking, was the fattest woman he had ever seen. She was slumped over sleeping, and kept oozing toward him.

The TRO against DARPA was back in court and Herman was droning on. Susan was sitting next to him at the plaintiff's table, making notes. Warren Krookshank was up on the bench. He was a handsome African-American judge with silver-gray hair, rimless glasses, and a quiet, no-nonsense demeanor. The defense counsel, all ten of them, were gathered

around their rectangular mahogany table in a pregame huddle.

Jack tried to focus on Herman's argument and ignore the old geezer muttering on the wooden bench next to him.

"… reviewed the whole question of Charles Chimera's DNA," Herman was saying as Jack's attention returned.

"Objection, Your Honor," shouted Joe Amato. He was on his feet, his white cuffs and porcelain caps glittering. "The law clearly dictates denial of this TRO solely on the issue of standing. Counsel is attempting to sue my clients using an animal as his plaintiff. So before we get into the merits of the TRO, or whether this beast even exists, I want to get a ruling with regards to whether counsel can stand over there and represent a chimpanzee."

Herman was also on his feet.

"Not a chimpanzee, Your Honor, a being who has DNA closer to human homology than that of a Down's syndrome child. Judge King has already accepted the stipulation of the parties, that DNA is the yardstick for measuring humanity. That fact has already been established in this case."

"I know what Judge King ruled regarding stipulation, Mr. Strockmire. I've read the court transcript." Krookshank removed his glasses and looked down at Herman sternly. "Before I rule on that objection, is there anything else you want to submit, counsel?"

Herman moved out from behind the plaintiff's table. "Yes, Your Honor." He cleared his throat, then took a breath to center his thoughts. "Inequalities have existed for as long as people have been on this earth. We are a species that seems to treasure our ability to defend and fight for our inequalities, and there are many. We have religious, racial, and gender inequalities. We have inequalities of social status and of wealth. There are even commercial inequalities like those afforded to people flying first class as opposed to those flying coach. As a society, in order to grow we have to learn to embrace the natural inequalities that exist between us and reject the artificial ones. I'm not in favor of banishing all inequalities, Your Honor. Perhaps some of these differences exist between us for a reason, and perhaps some of them aren't bad at least the nondiscriminatory ones. Perhaps by seeing certain people differently, others will strive to be better.

"But what happens, Your Honor, when a person, no matter how hard he or she tries, cannot redefine their station in life, and for that reason they are discriminated against? For instance, no matter how hard each of us tries, we will always be our same race, we will always have our same genetic or gender differences. Therefore we must accept that there are some things that simply cannot be changed. For instance, the makeup of our own DNA. Our DNA is a map of our personal genetic history, and up till now it was unchangeable no matter what we did.

"But my client's DNA has been changed to within a few tenths of a percentage point of human DNA. This, I will remind you, was done without his permission. Should the fact that Charles Chimera's DNA does not now exactly match the rest of us be enough to deny him Constitutional rights? Should that fact cause him to have to suffer further torture and inhumane testing? Because, Your Honor, this is what is happening here. Charles Chimera and his John Doe chimera coplaintiffs have had their DNA altered, causing them grave bodily harm. Only this court stands between them and any future irreparable experimentation."

"Objection," Amato said.

He sounded bored. He sounded amused. He sounded frustrated, Jack marveled. All of that in one nine-letter word. The guy was simply magnificent.

"What does any of this have to do with the fact that Mr. Strockmire is representing an animal in this court and doesn't have a shred of standing for his plaintiff," Amato challenged.

Warren Krookshank seemed to ponder that, and looked down at Herman. "This court concedes that inequalities exist, Counselor. However, this court is also bound by legal precedent. The defense raises a good point. Historically, only Homo sapiens have been allowed access to our judicial system."

"Your Honor, need I remind you of Dred Scott a slave who was told that because he was a slave, and therefore was defined as property, he could not sue for his own freedom in a court of law? That decision was eventually overturned by the Supreme Court. But before that it was the law. He was denied court standing, just as Charles Chimera is being denied his legal access. Even though he is closer to a human, by virtue of his DNA chart, than a Down's syndrome child or a genetically damaged fetus many of whom have availed themselves of their legal rights in federal court.

"I have here a table of federal cases in which the court has heard lawsuits on behalf of beings with DNA further from the human norm than Charles Chimera's, together with a description of their DNA status. I would like to submit this as Exhibit B." He rummaged in his folder and withdrew a stack of pages, then handed his list of cases to the clerk, who marked them. Herman handed out copies to the defense, then reached up and ceremoniously laid one on Judge Krookshank's bench.

"I have to admit, there is something in this argument that is intriguing," Krookshank said. "The law must be prepared to change with the times. However, I'm still not convinced. I'm going to let you continue on the assumption that as we proceed you will establish facts to bring this more clearly into focus. I will rule on the issue of Charles Chimera's standing at some point down the road."

"Objection, Your Honor," Amato roared.

"Overruled."

"Exception."

"Noted."

A break in the action. They all sat around looking at one another wondering what to do next.

"Your Honor," Mr. Amato finally argued. "We don't accept the existence of any such thing as a chimera."

"I have submitted to this court a chart of Charles Chimera's DNA base pairs. It proves without a doubt that he exists, even though his presence in court is not possible today. However, we will have testimony from witnesses who have seen Charles Chimera. I heard him speak, and will offer my own declarations as to those facts."