Civil Blood_The Vampire Rights Trial that Changed a Nation

by Chris Hepler

  "I've had it happen to me," I say evenly, "and I lived through it." Cass's enthusiasm dims.

  "This is a task worth doing," Jessica says, "but if I'm going to remain our public face, I need to excuse myself."

  "Fair," says Cass. "Deborah… are you with us?"

  "As long as I'm not put in a position where I hurt anyone," she says.

  Ly frowns. "You do know we're vampires, right?"

  "I told you the first time I ever bit someone, I threw it up after. You're not going to make me into someone… someone who…"

  Cass and Ly have no idea how to be gentle. I step in. "We understand."

  Ly turns to Ferrero. "You don't have a childhood dream of running for president or something, right?"

  Ferrero doesn't look amused. "I want a vote."

  "Looks like it's me and Cass so far for yes," says Ly. "Infinity?"

  Their hero for tonight frowns. "The last time I was in court, the truth came out, and people did the right thing. I think we should wait until the trial is over." I knew I liked her.

  Deborah speaks up. "I'm only in if we have no other choice. Right now, we do."

  "That leaves you," Ferrero says to me. I think back to the heroes of my adolescence, the Kings and Ghandis and the Warren court, and wonder if they ever had to make decisions stoned on blood.

  "I say no."

  "You were just saying you might have friends in there!" says Ly.

  "Might. Wishing won't make it so. It's a natural instinct to say we've got to take action. But we can't ignore what the consequences could be. If some headline reads 'Morgan Lorenz and Gang of Vipes Gun Down Security Guards,' kiss everything goodbye. Jess has ten friends in New York that she's spent months training how to feed peacefully. You want to explain to all of them why they've got to dodge vigilantes?"

  Ly rolls his eyes. "Like it can get any worse?"

  Ferrero frowns. "Read any history book ever."

  "History books also say you gotta fight back against your enemy," says Cass.

  Ferrero is incredulous. "And how's that going to go? You gonna kill ten of them? Fifty? That's going to get the result you want? No. Courts don't work that way. And if you think politics works that way, ask the Democrats and Republicans why half their people are now in the Solar Citizens and Freedom Forever parties. When you fire the gun, you lose."

  "Half left, yeah. Half stayed," says Ly. " Finish the vote."

  I call it. "All in favor of breaking into this prison-hospital-holding-cell place?" Cass and Ly put their hands up. Ferrero shakes his head a little. Deborah looks down. Jess snorts as though she finds the lack of support entertaining.

  "All opposed?" Ferrero, Deborah, and Jess raise their arms. Infinity holds her arms crossed, her brow furrowed.

  "You abstaining or something?" I ask.

  "Remembering," she says. "I want to keep our options open. These people are brutal. Honestly, I think we all want them thrown in the wood chipper, but taking millions of dollars from them sounds more civilized. Let's do that." She raises her hand.

  I raise mine. "Okay. Now, I don't want any resentment because of this. Everybody's got opinions. We can agree to disagree. Our focus right now is winning the battle of Alexandria."

  Cass gives me a nod, and I know things are going to be all right. I shoot a glance at Infinity. She showed some presence of mind tonight. I feel better just having her in the room, but now she isn't making eye contact. Loss of blood? More likely guilt from her feeding. I don't bring it up. This is no time to single out anyone. We will see this through together.

  40 - TRANSCRIPT

  Closing Arguments in Lorenz v. the Benjamin Rush Health Initiative

  September 28th

  THE COURT: Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. We are ready to proceed with closing arguments of counsel in this case. Under court procedure, each side may have different attorneys argue different parts of the closing. Mr. Cho, you're going to present Mr. Lorenz's case?

  MR. CHO: I am, Your Honor, may it please the court.

  THE COURT: Yes.

  MR. CHO: Your Honor, we have heard a lot about viruses and definitions of the human species and what we should legally throw out over the past few weeks. But the elements of the suit are fairly straightforward. Did what happened to Morgan Lorenz and so many other human beings qualify as medical negligence? Was there willful, wanton conduct? Does this count as wrongful infection?

  Well, you ask, what's an infection? It's the presence of a bacteria or virus not normally found in a human body. EBL-4 is that infection. And what's wrongful? In law, something is 'wrongful' if it works loss or harm to anyone. We have learned beyond reasonable doubt that good people have lost everything to this disease. Dr. Jessica Ulan went from being a respected scientist to living under an assumed name. Luis Rodolfo and Ani Sikorski lost their lives. And as for Morgan Lorenz… he is not on trial here.

  We have a phrase in law for what we saw these past few weeks. Res ipsa loquitur. It means 'the facts speak for themselves.' We have been dragged through an extremely extended motion to dismiss for lack of standing for an unbelievable premise: that a virus can cause you to stop being human. Even though the Health Initiative has leveled a claim that Morgan Lorenz is not fit to join human society, that claim is not about Morgan Lorenz. It is about every single human being who tests positive for EBL-4. A moment's thought shows what a terrifying precedent this could set. Can anyone with a dangerous virus be labeled nonhuman? A person with HIV? Smallpox? Of course not. The fact that qi was involved in its creation gives it no special status. These people are humans.

  BRHI made this argument because they have no leg to stand on. BRHI could have told this court, 'no, you must have gotten the disease somewhere else. Here are all our records for comparison.' But they didn't. And when we demanded to see those records, their lab in Reston was sanitized before our arrival. But one sample was still viable. And the RNA in that virus is identical to the virus in Morgan Lorenz's body. So… was cleaning that lab the act of an innocent party? Or was it the act of a corporation that does not want to pay the damages that are due to their negligence? Remember, they continued to study this virus for four years since the outbreak without reporting its presence. If that is not willful, wanton conduct, what is?

  Recall res ipsa loquitur. The facts speak for themselves.

  Do new viruses brimming with active qi occur naturally? No, they do not. They were entirely unknown to science until twenty-five years ago. And four years ago, the pioneer of the field made a breakthrough that created an entirely new form of life. When this virus escaped their inadequately protected lab, she was working for the exact same company whose representatives are sitting over there. You heard from the pioneer in question, and she knows what they let loose because it is in her bloodstream to this day. Res ipsa loquitur. The facts speak for themselves.

  So, will we say this infection is not wrongful? That it endangered no one? That there was no negligence in dealing with a level 5 biohazard that has now infected what must be hundreds of people? No. We have heard the facts. The Benjamin Rush Health Initiative are guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. All else is a distraction, made of aspersions and fear. Thank you.

  THE COURT: Thank you, Mr. Cho. Has the defense chosen who will present?

  MS. CAMPION: We have, Your Honor. I am presenting it start to finish.

  THE COURT: Very good, Counselor. You may proceed.

  MS. CAMPION: Your Honor, I would like to thank Mr. Cho for presenting some very lofty rhetoric about the responsibility you have, to safeguard individuals infected by a very terrible virus. It is natural to have sympathy for Mr. Lorenz or for Dr. Ulan. We all want to help others. But blaming the men and women working in the Health Initiative's ABEL lab is not a legally sound strategy.

  Counselor Cho would have you believe that BRHI is responsible for the spread of the VIHPS virus. But every corporation consists of individuals. And the individual most responsible for Jessica Ulan biting three of her fellow employees is n
one other than Jessica Ulan. She told us to our face that she has a choice when she feeds. If she can control herself enough not to use violence, why did she not refrain from drinking the blood of her co-workers? Either she could manage it and violated safety protocol herself… in which case Morgan Lorenz should be suing her… or her cravings for blood are too much to resist.

  We spent so much time on a motion to dismiss because those cravings matter. Dr. Ulan admitted she must feed every week to survive. Assuming she only feeds when absolutely necessary, then she has spread the virus to over two hundred people. Assuming conservatively, if just eighty percent of them survived, in one year those victims would infect some seventeen hundred people. In another year, her victims and their victims would infect over seventy thousand people. The year after that, it's almost three million. What percentage of them will resort to violence, even murder, to feed? Do you consider it the correct course of action to award that many murderers a large sum of money? I know what my answer is, and it is hell, no. My answer is that Morgan Lorenz and all those infected with VIHPS should be confined to hospitals where there are medical professionals and security and restraints if necessary.

  The counsel for the plaintiff said many things in his closing statement, but there are other important points he does not contest. He does not contest that the plaintiff can live solely by drinking human blood. Nor does he contest that the plaintiff killed two police officers to drink that blood. He does not contest that the police officers' struggles were useless because the plaintiff cannot be harmed by normal punches or kicks. He does not contest that the plaintiff cannot even be present for this trial because he is in hiding. These are not in dispute because they are facts, and as we heard, facts speak for themselves.

  I do not ask that you harden your heart or restrain your noble impulses to deliver justice. That is what we are here for. But our sense of justice can't be limited to those who have testified in the past few days or who filed suit in order to get paid. It must include all the people who were not here today because an actual, honest-to-God vampire chose to drain them of blood and end their lives. Unless you take action now, the numbers of those people crying out for justice from their graves will grow and grow. That's the math. Thank you.

  THE COURT: Thank you, Ms. Campion.

  41 - INFINITY

  September 30th

  I slam the passenger-side door and zip a seat belt across myself. "Drive," I say, glancing up and down the street and at the rowhouse I just left. The rain that was my enemy three hours ago is my ally now. It's dusky and gray out, and no one wants to look up, let alone be a witness.

  Deborah hits the ignition button next to the dismantled self-driver. "Run the checklist."

  Right. The checklist. I squeeze my eyes shut. "Just a minute."

  "You're baked, aren't you?"

  "Put the frosting on top," I grin.

  Deborah is humorless. "Prints," she says, kick-starting my memory.

  I can do this. "He opened the door. I got him soon after. My fingertips were coated, and I didn't touch a thing."

  "Did he live alone?"

  "He said he did. It should be a while before anyone finds him." I know it isn't necessarily true, but I'm feeling too good to worry about details. That's why Deborah is here.

  "Still," Deborah says and puts the car in drive. I pout, then check myself in the side-view mirror.

  I expect my face to be a red smear, but somewhere through my pleasant haze, I remember I cleaned up while inside. I've forgotten my victim's name already and want to keep it that way.

  This one was kind and platonic and barely made a noise once I got him. It was like a reward for playing the game right, and now I'm ready for the hot tub we don't have.

  Deborah keeps prodding. Witnesses at the gym? Cameras? Were we seen leaving together? Everything comes up clean. On the interstate, my phone chimes. My fight-or-flight kicks in, and I answer immediately.

  "Morgan, how'd it go?"

  "Uh, Fini, it's… it's a little mixed."

  "What'd he say?" asks Deborah.

  I speak to the phone. "Out with it, or you don't get none."

  "Well…" he says, and I imagine a million awful things, "they convicted on wrongful infection and awarded damages."

  "They did it!" I scream at Deborah, who lets loose a cry of her own. "Did they just make us fucking rich? What's the award thing worth?"

  "Hold on for a minute," Morgan says. "The Health Initiative's appealing. They petitioned for cert with—" his voice goes indistinct.

  "What's that do? You're breaking up. Morgan?"

  Bang. The car lurches. The red emergency lights flare up on the dashboard, and everything goes eep eep eep like the car is backing up. Deborah freezes. I drop the phone and seize the wheel immediately as the car's hazards flick on and off. We're slowing down.

  "What the fuck are you doing?" yells Deborah. A car whizzes by us on the right and another on the left. Eep eep eep blares the noise.

  "Brake!" I yell. Deborah steps. The car lurches again. "Merge right!"

  "How do I do that? Let go!" But I don't let go. I glance back, see an opening and jerk the wheel. We roll onto the shoulder of the highway.

  Deborah puts it in park, and the eeping stops. She loses her seat belt.

  "No!" I shout. "Don't go out. Stay down!" I undo my own belt and open the glove compartment, where my pistol is waiting.

  "Were you followed?" Deborah's terrified. I grab the phone, hand it to her.

  "Tell Morgan someone just shot at us. I'm going out there."

  "What if they're waiting?" Deborah says but holds the phone up to her ear. "Uh, Morgan, we're by the side of the road. The car got hit or shot—"

  "Open the rear door to give me cover."

  Deborah nods. Morgan's talking, but neither of us is paying attention. Deborah wriggles awkwardly into the back seat and unlocks the rear door. She shoves it open, and I pop my own door. I'm out, flattened, looking underneath the metal and plastic. But no car has stopped by the side of the road behind us.

  "D? What's the dashboard say?"

  "Where are they?"

  "There is no 'they' yet. Hit the analyzer on the dashboard."

  "It says right front tire."

  I turn around, waiting for someone to smack me or shoot me, but instead I only see a torn-up tire, ruptured and riding on the rim. A tiny, metal head sticks out of the black rubber.

  "Deborah…" I say, "if I ever make a decision with a gun again when I'm high, fucking slap me. It's a nail. Tell Morgan we ran over a nail." I pause as Deborah relays the message. "And ask him what's up with the court."

  Deborah hands the phone back after multiple reassurances that Morgan doesn't need to rescue us. I holster the pistol and shield the phone from the spatting rain.

  "Okay, false alarm. I'm stupid. Let me just establish that and get back to you spilling the beans on this other incredibly important thing. Why do you sound like your wife just left you?"

  He rolls with it. "We ended up on the express list of cases approved for review. There's a rumor that Fennel took an interest."

  "Who's Fennel?"

  "Chief Justice Fennel? SCOTUS?"

  What? "Is that Esperanto? You gotta remember my brain is on toast here."

  "The Supreme Court took an interest in our case. After the first Monday in October, Cho's gonna be doing an oral argument for us."

  "We're going to the Supreme Court?" I shout. "That's fucking galactic! You were all moping, and we're going to be a part of history?"

  "Fini," Morgan says sternly, "they don't usually get involved at this stage. Unless they think it's constitutionally relevant—"

  The rain is getting harder. I slip back into the car. "Oh yeah, that's your class action talking right there!" I slam the door so it's easier to hear.

  "No, if they had no problem with the ruling, they wouldn't have stepped in." In response to my silence, he says, "Listen very carefully. There is a high probability they got involved because of
the constitutional question of BRHI's claim. If we'd just won, it'd be a footnote. This much attention means they want us for a precedent. Either to say we definitively have standing… or definitively not."

  "Uh," I'm too bleary. "Break this down for me at the house when I'm sober." I hang up.

  "What'd he say?" Deborah still looks alarmed.

  "Uh, you know those agreements you click on before you install an app?"

  "Yeah?"

  "He sounded something like that, and it's about to fuck us. Don't call for assistance. I'll change the tire." The next few minutes are very mundane, except for the part where I forget you are supposed to step on the tire iron for leverage. I casually twist the lug nuts off the wheel.

  Before I put away the deflated tire, Deborah speaks up. "Here, can I get a picture of us on our adventure?"

  Really? "Maybe don't make posts that say, 'this is me with my vipe girlfriend?'"

  "I don't post," she says. "Not since. I just keep them for myself." I nod. Deborah shoots us with her phone. Grinning at the camera fits tonight's craziness.

  "What do you think? Top five?" I ask.

  "Top hundred," Deborah says, "but I have about ten thousand, so that's pretty good. Just going to caption it, 'my hero,' and we'll be done."

  "That's me, Miss Minimum Technical Know-How."

  Deborah looks puzzled. "Also, you just saved us."

  "Not really."

  "Well, you would have." She captions the shot.

  My smile disappears. "Seriously, do not use the h-word on me."

  "I thought—"

  "I am not someone to look up to, okay?"

  "Oh, come on. All of us kinda think—"

  "Deborah, stop your thought there. When someone tells you they're not a hero, you listen to them. Otherwise you are setting yourself up bad."

  "Of course, yeah," Deborah says, backpedaling. "But if I can ask, uh—why aren't you?"

  I rub my face. My catalogue of misdeeds is getting longer all the time, but the one that grabs me—no. I have to prioritize. Morgan still doesn't know that I've drawn vipe blood as well as human. Neither does Deborah. I want to be far away in a cozy retirement home before they find out that wrinkle. But I need to talk.