Balance of Power

    Dane studied him coldly. 'You weren't there,' he answered. 'I was. And you're extremely lucky that Dash doesn't know to ask about you and Marty Bresler. Unless, that is, she was sandbagging me.'

    This sobered Fasano. 'All the questions about Bresler,' he ventured. 'Where's that coming from?'

    Dane's shrug resembled a twitch, suggesting anger suppressed. 'We'll see,' he murmured, and then spoke with renewed authority. 'You brought these people in, Frank. And now you want them to cut ahead of us in line. It's us who came to you, and now it's us who's been sued. Spineless country clubbers like Calvo and Metrillo couldn't deliver their own mothers at the polls, let alone help you maintain control of the Senate. Only we can do that.'

    Beneath Dane's show of confidence, Fasano knew, he was worried. Only Fasano, by delivering gun immunity, could preserve Dane's power, both inside and outside the SSA. Fasano picked up a silver letter opener on Dane's coffee table, studying its ornate handle. In a neutral tone, he said, 'Metrillo promises to support a separate bill.'

    'Fuck Metrillo. And fuck you, Frank, for wasting my time with drivel.'

    Fasano placed down the opener. Softly, he said, 'Watch yourself, Charles.'

    'You watch yourself.' Pausing, Dane adopted a cooler tone. 'You and I both know these people have nowhere else to go. If you tell them that the only tort reform bill you're supporting protects the gun industry— and gets them what they want instead of this sop that Kilcannon's throwing them—they'll fall back into line, and try their damnedest to override his veto . . .'

    'He's setting us up,' Fasano interrupted. 'Kilcannon expects all of us to do exactly what we're doing. Once we do, he'll make us pay.'

    'No choice, Frank. We just ride it out.'

    'Before we do, consider this. In return for Kilcannon's acceptance of gun immunity, we offer to make guns subject to the consumer protection laws. Kilcannon's always whining that there are no safety standards for guns . . .'

    'No,' Dane snapped. 'Period. Putting the industry at the mercy of the consumer gestapo is the first step toward ending gun rights in America.'

    'Everything,' Fasano retorted, 'is the first step.' His voice crackled with impatience. 'By your logic, the income tax is the first step to confiscating our money, and the death penalty the first step to Nazi crematoriums. Has it ever dawned on you that society stands on a continuum, not poised on a slippery slope?'

    Dane settled back in his chair, his face and voice emotionless. 'You know our price— this bill. If Kilcannon wants to veto, he'll be digging his own grave.'

    Fasano studied him. 'Electorally, you mean.'

    'In ways he hasn't contemplated,' Dane answered. 'And won't until it's far too late.'

* * *

    'The SSA,' Fasano told Tony Calvo, 'accuses you of selling them out to Kerry Kilcannon. Somehow, Dane finds it incongruous for me to broker the deal.'

    Over the telephone, the only clue to Calvo's feeling was his silence. 'Did you try the consumer protection angle?'

    'Yes. Are you familiar with the phrase 'dead on arrival'?'

    'You can pass this bill,' Calvo said in desperation. 'Kilcannon will sign it . . .'

    'Kilcannon,' Fasano interrupted, 'won't see it. Because I won't bring it to the floor. As of now, this bastard compromise of yours is roadkill.'

    Calvo's voice rose, the last vestige of resistance. 'If so, I'll have to inform the President. And tell him why.'

    Fasano gave himself a moment. 'You do that, Tony. Why surprise him? It's exactly what he expects from you.

    'So run off and see 'the President.' And after that, I sincerely suggest you get behind my bill.'

* * *

    On the next afternoon, to the surprise of the White House press corps, Kit Pace announced that the President would hold a press conference.

    Fasano and Gage watched on CNN. As usual, the press room was jammed; as usual, the President appeared confident and relaxed.

    The Republican leadership in Congress, said David Bloom of NBC, supports a ban on so-called therapeutic cloning. What is your opinion of its prospects?

    Kilcannon smiled at this. About the same as my opinion of its merits, he answered. Considerably lower than my opinion of the good sense and goodwill of the American people.

    The distinction between cloning human beings—which all of us oppose—and using science to combat spinal cord injuries, or diabetes, may have eluded the sponsors of this bill. But I doubt that it eludes the average American. Let alone the millions to whom this new science may offer relief from suffering.

    'Kilcannon,' Gage complained, 'always makes things sound so simple.'

    'No,' Fasano answered. 'He always makes us sound so simple.'

    On the screen, Kilcannon pointed toward John King of CNN.

    Rumor has it, Mr. President, that you offered the business community a compromise on the Civil Justice Reform Act. Is that true and, if so, could you describe the status of negotiations?

    'It's a setup,' Gage murmured. 'The White House must have fed King the question . . .'

    'It's all a setup,' Fasano corrected. 'He didn't just wake up this morning, and decide it was a swell day for a press conference . . .'

    Dead, Kilcannon was answering. And it's a shame. The proposal I offered—cutting legal fees, and capping punitive damages—would have afforded real protections to the hundreds of thousands of Americans who run small businesses, and the millions they employ . . .

    'This whole thing,' Fasano observed, 'has been like being under hypnosis. I knew the President was going to push me off a cliff, and still I couldn't move . . .'

    Every major representative of American business, Kilcannon continued, was in favor of this compromise. There was just one problem: it no longer wipes out the existing right of victims of gun violence to seek justice from the gun industry and the SSA. So the SSA—Senator Fasano's constituency of one— instructed him to keep the bill from ever coming to a vote. And Senator Fasano, mindful of the millions of dollars the SSA gives to his own party, has complied . . .

    Gage stood, as though propelled by rage. 'What about the trial lawyers, you little hypocrite . . .'

    Those who own small businesses, Kilcannon said, have learned a bitter truth: that the party who claims to speak for them is a wholly owned subsidiary