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that he’d taken care of the evidence, I realized that he was aware that I had concluded my research and the scope of it. It was worth a fortune to him if marketed, but he destroyed it. When I began trying to understand why he would deliberately destroy something with so much potential for wealth, then I realized that if it became known that mutants had destroyed a plant that held such promise, everyone would turn against all of the mutants.”

Anna braced herself when the prosecutor returned to his seat and the lawyer came after her.

“What did you say your area of expertise was, Dr. Blake?”

“Genetic engineering.”

“Not … psychology?”

“No.”

“And yet you profess to know not only what was going through your father’s mind, but also how everyone would react if it was proven that mutant terrorists destroyed a plant that might or might not have been a new food source?”

“Is there a question there?”

“How do you account for your … perception?”

“Food riots,” Anna said succinctly. “In the past several decades there’ve been dozens of riots and each time thousands of people were killed before the riots were put down. Starving people are dangerous.”

Irritation flickered across his face. “How did you arrive at the conclusion that that was your father’s motivation?”

“The rumors arose almost immediately that it was mutants who’d blown up my house and they were started by Humans for Humanity—the organization my father freely admits he is the head of.”

He decided to try a different tact. “You are published, Dr. Blake?”

“Yes,” Anna said tightly, realizing her damned papers were about to bite her in the ass, again.

“These papers all pertain to genetically engineering food to feed the poor, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t it true that you also deplored, in these same papers, the genetic mutation of humans?”

“It is.”

“And yet you accuse your own father of having so much hatred for mutants that he’s willing to throw away thousands, possibly millions of dollars, just to create an insurrection to kill them when you are on record as despising them yourself?”

“There is no record that I despise mutants, because I don’t. There are many indications that my father does, because he has lobbied repeatedly against their rights as human beings, stating that they aren’t, that as soon as they allowed themselves to be genetically altered they ceased to be human.”

“And you know this how?”

“Because I looked it up. It’s a matter of public record.”

“Let’s go back to your statement that your father argued that mutants weren’t human.”

Let’s don’t!

He strolled back to his table and unearthed one of the papers. He presented it to her. “What does it say there?”

“What is that?” the judge asked.

“Pardon. One of Dr. Blake’s papers. It is your paper?”

“One of them, yes.”

“What does it say about halfway down?”

“Genetically altering humans is a threat to humanity in that ….”

“That’s enough.” He smiled at her triumphantly and strolled back to his seat.

Anna was sorry she couldn’t put her foot up his ass.

The prosecutor stood up. “May I cross examine the witness?”

The judge nodded.

“I’d like to hear the entire statement, Dr. Blake. Will you please read it?”

Relief flooded her. “Genetically altering humans is a threat to humanity in that there are no guidelines for the safety of those who have volunteered for the procedure and there have been no long term studies done on the subject to prove that it is safe. In the past, this never would have been allowed and it may be discovered, too late, that these procedures are ultimately harmful. At the very least, it has the potential of dividing the human race in their natural evolutionary paths and could lead to social disorder. It is far safer to focus on genetically engineering food to feed the starving.”

She was so weak with relief when she was dismissed that it was all she could do to stand up and walk back to her seat. She didn’t glance at any of the men. They’d been at pains since the trial began to maintain the appearance of ‘professionalism’ which meant lack of emotion and she doubted that she would be able to tell what they thought about her testimony. Beyond that, it had taken far more out of her than she’d thought it would and on top of that, she wasn’t at all sure she’d made the point she’d been struggling so hard to make.

She wanted to escape. She wrestled with a sense almost of suffocation while the lawyer made his closing statement and the prosecutor made his. When the jury filed out, she leapt to her feet and led the way out.

To her dismay, she discovered no one was in any hurry to leave. Instead, she was parked on a hard bench while they paced, waiting to see what the jury would decide.

When it was eventually announced that the jury hadn’t reached a conclusion and deliberation would continue the following day, they finally trooped down to the sub and she was allowed the retreat she’d been hoping for for hours.

No one seemed inclined to talk, but Anna was so focused on her own anxiety, she barely noticed and when she did she figured they were as on edge with the waiting as she was. Tension was certainly high in all of them due to their doubts about the verdict. She began to get an inkling that they weren’t exactly happy with her after the second day of waiting for the jury to decide, though. By the third, she was positive that they weren’t just on edge about the verdict. They were

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