Balance of Power

    'It began with a couple who, until her death, had been the parents of a five-year-old girl—their only child. They had lost her in the most senseless, the most unanticipated, of ways: she had sat on the drain of a public wading pool, and had her intestines suctioned out.'

    His colleagues, Hampton noted to his satisfaction, were hushed. 'Her parents,' he told them, 'had no money. As much as anything, they came to me looking for an explanation for a tragedy which, to them, seemed inexplicable.

    'I conducted some discovery.' Pausing, Hampton permitted himself to recall his anger. 'The explanation turned out to be simple; the pool company had refused to spend money on a fifty-cent part which would have prevented this child's death. But perhaps the little girl was lucky. It turned out that another victim in another state—a six-year-old boy— would require tube feeding, twelve hours a day, for however long that he might live. All for the lack of a four-bit drain part.

    'When I told the parents about all this, they ordered me to turn down any settlement offer—even the last one, for five million dollars. Their charge to me was simple: expose this company, and make sure— very sure—that they never did this to another child.

    'They never did,' Hampton added softly. 'Because the jury awarded my clients twenty-five million in punitive damages.

    'My esteemed colleague, Senator Palmer, tells us that not all of life's misfortunes have a remedy. To this extent, I agree: my clients would have happily traded their newfound wealth for the child they adored, or even for the surcease of heartache. But they had the satisfaction of knowing that no one else would ever know that feeling.'

Pausing again, he sought out Palmer, who studied his desk with

hooded eyes. 'As for me,' Hampton added in a throwaway tone, 'I stand guilty of taking the case on a contingent fee. I profited from that. Perhaps that makes me less noble than the defense lawyers for the pool drain company and its insurer, who profited by the hour, no matter the outcome for their clients.

    'So let's turn to the matter of gun companies, whose lawyers must also surely be tribunes of virtue, and whom Senator Harshman has implored us to protect from predators like me.'

    The sardonic comment, so personal in nature, so surprising from a senator whose previous image—at least until the Costello murders—had been one of lawyerly temperance, seemed to startle some of his colleagues. But Jack Slezak, Hampton noted, regarded him with an unimpressed half smile which tempered his own satisfaction.

    'And what,' he continued, 'is the nature of this protection? Not merely to limit punitive damages—which, I would note, chiefly benefit nonworking women and children who, because they can't project their future earnings, would otherwise get short shrift. Nor even to limit contingent fees, which serve to prevent plaintiffs of modest means from being reduced to penury by lawyers for the giant corporations who are paid by the proponents' chief patrons, hour by hour, to make suing their clients too expensive to bear. For gun companies, even this kind of legislative class warfare against the not-so-privileged is not protection enough. Because unique among all companies, they deserve nothing less than total immunity from suit.'

    Hampton's voice filled with indignation. 'The Eagle's Claw bullet, it seems, is more sacred than tires which blow up, gas tanks which explode, diet pills that kill—or a pool drain which sucks the life out of a five-yearold girl. Because like the Lexington P-2, it kills not by accident, but by design. No wonder the proponents' only hope is to ban all lawsuits.

    'So much remains for them to do. They've merely gutted the ATF. They've only exempted guns from the laws protecting consumers. They've simply opposed gun laws designed to make us safer.' Hampton shook his head in wonder. 'The Second Amendment, it seems, is truly a harsh mistress.'

* * *

Watching C-SPAN, Kerry laughed softly. Lara took his hand.

    At least, Hampton went on, these labors have their compensations. Last year, the Sons of the Second Amendment were the second largest donor to the party of the majority—a fitting reward for such idealism. But merely a down payment, I am sure, on the money which would follow the success of their mission here today.

    'He's going for broke,' Kerry murmured to his wife. 'No one could ask for more.'

* * *

    Feeling the sting of Hampton's words, Fasano lost all hope that the bitterness of this debate, or the subject of his alliance with the SSA, could in any way be muted. Maintaining his air of calm, he added a note to the text of his response.

    Hampton continued, 'It is we who let Lexington sell this gun—and those bullets— without a background check. That is our disgrace. Why add to it now?'

* * *

    Pausing, Hampton glanced at Cassie Rollins, prim and composed at her desk near the back of the chamber, and then, closer, Vic Coletti. 'And yet,' Hampton told them, 'the worst disgrace of all is near at hand. For this bill would not merely end all future suits, but wipe out all current ones, no matter how close to trial.

    'None of us here are innocents. We know precisely what—and whom—this very special interest provision is aimed at. And we can only marvel at the hypocrisy of its proponents.'

    Cassie Rollins, Hampton saw, had fixed him with an unwavering, but unhappy, gaze. Perhaps he would not change her vote—or any vote. But he would know that he had done all he could. 'More than unfair,' Hampton continued, 'it is unconstitutional. And worse.'

* * *

Watching, Kerry was moved.

    On the screen, the senior senator from Vermont stood straighter, eyes sweeping his silent colleagues. Like millions of Americans, he told them, I value guns designed for sportsmanship, not slaughter. But America has become the world's shooting gallery. God help us if we pour gasoline on the fire of gun violence.

    This body is supposed to save lives. But in the area of guns, we have contributed our bit to the taking of lives. Pausing for a final time, Hampton finished quietly, Truly, there is blood on our hands. It is long past time that we begin to wipe it off.

    Lara felt a constriction in her throat. 'It's probably just a phase,' she managed to tell her husband. 'But I think I'm in love with Chuck.'

    'When I call him with our thanks,' Kerry answered, 'I'll mention that.'

* * *

    As Hampton sat, the gallery burst into applause. Grimly smiling, the Vice President took her time before gaveling it down, and then Frank Fasano rose to answer.

    'The Chair,' Ellen Penn declared, 'recognizes the senior senator from Pennsylvania.'

    Though outwardly unfazed, Fasano paused to calm his nerves and collect his thoughts. His role in this drama was difficult: to tamp down the emotion aroused by the Minority Leader, and to provide his colleagues with a rationale—principled and reasoned—which would make them other than instruments of the SSA.