"I think you should go out to Van Nuys airport, rent a plane, head to Indio, find the reservation, and do a flyover," Herman suggested.

"Maybe I'll do that first thing this afternoon."

"I wouldn't wait for the afternoon."

"Herman, if you think I'm gonna miss seeing you in court with a monkey as a client, then you've got better drugs than me."

"Except he's not gonna be there. His DNA chart is gonna be there. It's gonna be very dull."

"You may be a lot of things, Herman, but dull ain't one of them."

The good news was that the surprise TRO made DARPA scramble. Their lawyers arrived in the second floor corridor outside of Federal District Courtroom Sixteen obviously unprepared. They sat on wooden benches, riffling through law books propped on their knees. Some were rereading the rules governing TROs, others were studying Herman's show-cause order. There were six of them, and they all looked and dressed identically. If the feds ever started cloning attorneys as well as chimps, Jack thought these guys could be Exhibit One.

The bad news was, Herman had been notified about ten minutes after he arrived that the judge assigned to the case was none other than his old nemesis, Melissa King. Since that devastating revelation, Herman, Susan, and Sandy had been off in a corner, whispering and gesticulating. Herman's entire strategy had been to get a liberal judge, then squeeze through a legal loophole. Now he was forced to argue his TRO on behalf of Charles the Chimera in front of Melissa the Merciless. Impossible.

Jack was left standing alone with Dr. Adjemenian. She was in tailored brown, and her long hawk face and sculpted body looked dangerous and ready to rumble.

"How's Tim?" he said, trying to be friendly and release some tension.

"We haven't been able to get back to our place for two days," she said angrily. "The landlord said somebody broke in and searched it."

"Really? Well, my gosh." So much for small talk.

The bailiff opened the door and stepped into the hall. "Everybody for Judge King's Federal Court hearing on the temporary restraining order against DARPA, we're getting ready to start," he announced.

The cloned attorneys all spun around and looked over their shoulders like guys caught jerking off.

Nobody seemed ready-not Herman, or any of DARPA's gunslingers.

Jack found a seat in the back next to an old woman dressed in a forty-year-old running suit with "L.A. Thunderbirds" printed on it. She smelled a little like wine and moldy newspapers. Next to him on the other side was a thirty-year-old, stringy-haired man who had cleverly released the pressure on his swollen feet by cutting the toes out of his shoes.

Good spot. I fit right in, Jack mused.

After the "oyez" the door opened and Melissa King waddled into her courtroom.

Herman had moved behind the plaintiff's table with Susan and Sandy. Everyone stood as Melissa hoisted herself up the four steps using the rail, pulling on it like a stevedore dragging a line ashore. She made it to the landing, then into her chair.

The baby had dropped since Herman had last seen her, she was now carrying it low in front of her like a basket of laundry. She banged her gavel just as Joseph Amato, the government's lead attorney, swept into the courtroom dressed to kill. He was late and still reading the TRO as he came through the door.

"All here, Mr. Amato?" Melissa said.

"Seems so, Your Honor," he replied, still scanning the document.

"Okay, so what's the deal on this one, Herman?" Starting right in on him.

"Your Honor, I've filed all of the paperwork with your office and-"

"I've read it. Seems pretty flaky, if you ask me."

"Flaky, Your Honor? Well, uh… we'll have to trust you to see the merits once we've argued them."

"Right. So who is this Charles Chimera? Where is he?"

"Your Honor, he's not able to be here. I will shortly enter evidence of his existence. However, if I might have permission to do this in the way I have planned…"

"How's that, Herman? With balloons and a dancing bear?"

Herman heaved a deep sigh. He wasn't going to get into it with her this time… at least, not if he could help it. Fortunately there was no jury.

"I see in this TRO, words like, 'being,' and 'end-product.' I hope Mr. Chimera isn't some kinda animal, Herman, 'cause if he is, you're outta here feet first."

"Your Honor, you ask a very good question, and that leads me to my first request."

"Oh, for the love of God, who's your client? We did butterflies last week. What is it now?"

"Your Honor, are you familiar with DNA and its use in regard to the identification of a specific species?"

"Of course, Herman. I'm a federal judge. We deal with DNA constantly."

"Since Your Honor is familiar with DNA identification techniques, then you must agree that DNA is an infallible tool for classifying species. If, for instance, a tiny speck of DNA is left behind at a crime scene, we know we can determine exactly what species left it. We can run a DNA scan on that tissue, and, for example, if it was left by a dog, we can determine that it is a dog's DNA beyond a scintilla of a doubt. But more than just any dog, we can determine its exact breed. We can even determine between close breeds such as an Alaskan Husky and a Siberian Husky. We can similarly determine if the blood or tissue was left by a Homo sapiens-a human being. It is very exact.

"Your Honor, we will stipulate that DNA is a perfect yardstick for species identification," Amato said, putting a tinge of both frustration and boredom into his voice-a thing that Jack knew, from hours in court as a cop, was very hard to do. Only a guy billing out at over a thousand dollars an hour would even attempt it.

"Good. Counsel stipulates," Herman smiled. "But I would also like Your Honor's ruling."

"Okay, Herman, I accept the stipulation of the parties that DNA provides exact identification of a species. For the record, that fact will be deemed established for all purposes in this case. Now what or who is Charles Chimera? Stop messing around here."

"Charles Chimera and the five John Doe chimeras I represent are all human-chimp genetic hybrids," Herman said softly.

"I beg your pardon?" Judge King leaned forward.

"Charles Chimera is a genetically designed being. He is a chimpanzee who has illegally had his DNA altered and upgraded, making him much closer to Homo sapiens than a normal chimpanzee."

"Objection, Your Honor," Amato chimed in, coming to his feet this time. "If this TRO is being sought on behalf of an animal, that strikes to 'standing.' As Your Honor knows, animals don't have rights under the United States Constitution. Furthermore, we demand that this TRO be voided on the grounds that animals can't hire attorneys, so therefore Mr. Strockmire has no authority to represent this so-called being."

"Herman?" Judge King said, scowling at him while at the same time trying to find a position that was more comfortable. Her huge stomach had somehow gotten wedged below the desk. She pushed her swivel chair back to make room for the baby, who Herman thought would probably be born wearing a black cape.

"Your Honor," Herman continued, "Charles Chimera, in fact, did hire me. Last night, out at Barbra Streisand's pool. There is a witness." Herman glanced at Sandy. "He reached out his hand and beseeched me to help him. If Mr. Amato disagrees, let him bring Charles Chimera into court to testify that he didn't hire me."

"How about you bring him in to say he did?" Amato responded.

"Your Honor, in due time, when he is able, that will happen. As to standing, Charles Chimera and his John Doe brothers are, in fact, chimpanzees who have been made almost human with DNA upgrades."