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circuit around the comfortably familiar Greek revival décor of the hearing room, they came to rest on the two figures seated at the witness table below him. At first his attention was magnetically drawn to the attractive young woman with the shiny, minklike hair framing her face. Ashley had an affinity for beautiful women, and this female in front of him filled the bill. She was dressed in a demure, deep blue suit with a white collar that contrasted sharply with her tanned, olive complexion. Despite her modest attire, she exuded a healthy sensuality. Her dark eyes were riveted on Ashley, giving him the impression he was staring down two gun barrels. He had no idea who she was or why she was there, but he thought her presence promised to make the hearing a bit more enjoyable.
    Reluctantly, Ashley switched his attention from the comely woman to Dr. Daniel Lowell. The doctor’s eyes were paler than his companion’s, yet they reflected an equal degree of brassiness with their unblinking stare. Ashley guessed the doctor was reasonably tall, despite the fact that he was slouching back in his chair. He was slight of build, with a thin, angular face capped by a shock of unruly salt-and-pepper hair. Even his dress suggested a degree of insolence comparable to that reflected in his eyes and posture. In contrast to his companion’s appropriate business apparel, he was sporting a casual tweed jacket with leather elbow patches, an open shirt without a tie, and, his legs visible beneath the table, a pair of jeans and sneakers.
    Ashley smiled inwardly as he picked up his gavel. He guessed that Daniel’s apparent attitude and dressing down was a weak attempt to prove he wasn’t threatened by being called to testify before a Senate subcommittee. Perhaps Daniel thought he could bring his Ivy League, academic persona as a form of intimidation against Ashley’s small-town, Baptistcollege experience. But it wasn’t going to work. Ashley knew he had Daniel in his arena with the usual home-court advantage.
    â€œThe Subcommittee on Health Policy of the Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions Committee will now come to order,” Ashley announced with a pronounced Southern intonation as he banged his gavel. He waited for a few moments, as the previously disorderly group of attendees took their seats. Behind him, he could hear the various staffers do the same. He glanced down at Daniel Lowell, but the doctor had not moved. Ashley glanced to his right and left. Most of his subcommittee members were not present, although four were. Those present were either reading memoranda or talking in whispers with their aides. There wasn’t a quorum, but it didn’t matter. No vote had been scheduled, and Ashley was not going to call for one.
    â€œThis hearing will proceed on Senate Bill 1103,” Ashley continued, as he placed his opening statement notes on the table in front of him, folded his arms, and cupped his elbows in his palms to forestall any potential tremor. He tilted his head back slightly to see the print better through his bifocals. “This bill is a companion bill to the bill already passed by the House to ban the cloning procedure called . . .”
    Ashley hesitated and leaned forward, squinting at the sheet. “Bear with me for a moment,” he said, obviously departing from his prepared text. “This procedure is not only scary, but it’s a mouthful, and maybe the good doctor will help me if I stumble. It’s called Homologous Transgenic Segmental Recombination, or HTSR. Wow! Did I get that right, Doctor?”
    Daniel sat up and leaned forward to his microphone. “Yes,” he said simply and leaned back. He too had his arms folded.
    â€œWhy don’t you doctors speak English?” Ashley questioned, while peering over the tops of his glasses at Daniel.
    A few of the spectators tittered, to Ashley’s delight. He loved to play to the crowd.
    Daniel leaned