Free Blood Brothers by Rick Acker Page A

worried about that motion, though. It’s not likely to be granted, so the best thing to do is ignore it.”
    “So you don’t recommend asking for sanctions against Karl and his lawyers? I don’t like letting someone punch me without punching back. It sends the wrong signal.”
    “Not in court,” Ben replied. “Judges generally hate sanctions motions. Except in really extreme cases, like destruction of evidence or lying under oath, judges view this type of motion as the written equivalent of a temper tantrum. Throwing our own tantrum in return isn’t likely to do us any good. I know it’s tempting to respond in kind to this sort of insulting trash, but it really isn’t a good idea. We shouldn’t let it distract us from the motions that really matter.”
    “Like the motion for a temporary restraining order?”
    “Yes. Exactly. That’s the one that worries me the most. If they get the TRO they want, you’ll have to tell them how to make this new drug, and their case against you will basically be over.”
    “I thought that’s what it meant,” said Gunnar. “Do you really think the judge would do that to me?”
    “He could. This judge has a real instinct to split the baby in every case that comes before him.”
    “Split the baby?”
    “Yes. It’s a reference to the Old Testament story of King Solomon and two women who were arguing over a baby.”
    “I know the story.”
    “Okay. Well, lawyers use the phrase ‘split the baby’ to refer to judge-ordered compromises, especially when the compromise isn’t particularly fair or smart. For example, Judge Reilly might think he was compromising by denying the sanctions motion and granting the TRO, but that wouldn’t be a compromise—it would be a total victory for Karl.”
    “I see,” Gunnar said slowly. “Yes, I see. So how will you keep this judge from splitting my baby?”

    Three monkeys played in the exercise room—two from the control group and one of the test subjects. All three were related and knew each other well. The oldest and largest of the three had been the leader of their troop at the ranch where they’d been raised. He was named Bruce, because he had been the boss of the group—a Bruce Springsteen reference that Kim was too young to understand without explanation. The younger two monkeys were cousins and Bruce’s nephews. They weren’t twins, but they were so similar that they had been named Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Tweedledee had been injected with the drug; Tweedledum (Bruce’s cage mate) was in the control group.
    Kim looked forward to playtime today. She and David had spent an hour on the phone last night talking about medical school. He had just received his final grades from his first year, and they had not been good. Now she sipped her chai latte and explained the situation to Dr. Chatterton. “So he’s really stressed,” she concluded. “He’s afraid he’s going to flunk out next semester. What do you think? Does it get easier after your first year, or is he in real trouble?”
    “The first year is always a big adjustment,” replied Dr. Chatterton. “You’re not in college anymore, that’s for sure. I don’t think I slept more than twenty hours a week during my first year. Does it get easier after that?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. There are a lot of people who don’t come back after the first year, but most of those who do, graduate.”
    “I’ll tell him that. Maybe it will calm him down some. He’s a great guy and everything, but he can be kinda intense sometimes. So, do you have any more words of wisdom for him?”
    “Yeah. If he flunks out of med school, there’s always law school.”
    Kim laughed. “I want to cheer him up, not make him shoot himself.”
    “Then you may not want to mention the law-school thing. Just tell him he’ll get through it.”
    Half an hour later, Dr. Chatterton headed back to her office to take care of some paperwork, and Kim entered the exercise room to retrieve the