Balance of Power

background checks before it allows its dealers to sell any Lexington guns at the show. The same thing I proposed to Bresler's group.'

    'That's when we were a group.' Callister took a larger swallow of his beer, gazing fixedly at Kerry. 'To the SSA, your proposal infringes the right of private parties to sell guns without the government knowing who they are. If a buyer later kills someone, then he should be prosecuted to the full extent of existing law—including the death penalty.'

    'Will the SSA also resurrect the victim?' Kerry inquired mildly. 'It strikes me that my brother is still dead.'

    For a moment, Callister was silent. 'There's also my board of directors,' he finally said. 'They'll claim that agreeing to this would put us at a competitive disadvantage . . .'

    'By not selling to mass murderers? That's just the clientele you need.' Kerry's tone became incredulous. 'Why in hell should anyone without a record care about a background check? And why sell guns to anyone who does care?

    'You can't want Lexington handguns used in crimes—it's bad for business, and it leads to lawsuits. So unless you do want to market guns to criminals, a background check helps protect you.'

    Callister considered this. 'Speaking personally,' he said at length, 'I don't have a problem with that. Neither do some of my fellow CEOs . . .'

    'Good. Because I'll also want Lexington's help in lobbying Congress for background checks on every gun sold in America.'

    'In other words,' Callister said with a fleeting smile, 'suicide. Is that all you're proposing?'

    Despite his skepticism, Kerry sensed, Callister was intrigued, waiting for the scope of Kerry's design to become clearer. 'Not quite.' Pausing, Kerry marshalled his resources of personality and persuasion. 'No civilian needs a gun that fires forty rounds, or bullets designed to kill by shredding someone's insides. That's not about self-defense—unless you're a crack-cocaine dealer in Miami . . .'

    'Some people,' Callister interjected, 'including the SSA, think they need to defend themselves against their own government.'

    'Paranoia,' Kerry retorted, 'is not a basis for public policy. Or a license for mass murder . . .'

    'Other people,' Callister continued, 'just enjoy owning highcapacity weapons. If I start saying some guns are 'bad,' I lose them . . .'

    'Is nothing 'bad'? Are cop-killer bullets just a fun toy for hobbyists?' Kerry's voice turned cold. 'Federal law limits the capacity of new magazines to ten rounds. But the old magazines hold forty, and Lexington's guns are designed to ensure that they still fit.

    'That's not everyone else's fault, George. At some point, the weapons you sell become your moral choice. Make the wrong choices, and you deserve extinction.'

    Calmly, Callister finished his beer, placing the foam-streaked mug to one side. 'What's the right choice, Mr. President?'

    Kerry leaned forward. 'Retrofit your guns—no magazines over ten rounds. At least make it a little harder for a mass murderer to slaughter twenty people. And stop selling bullets designed to eviscerate vital organs.'

    'Aside from the small matter of an SSA boycott,' Callister objected, 'you're asking me to change my product line overnight.'

    'High time. We lose over thirty thousand people each year to guns— a big chunk of those to suicides or accidents. Little kids shouldn't be able to kill themselves by accident; depressed teens shouldn't be able to commit suicide with a parent's gun; that woman you persuaded to buy a gun for self-defense shouldn't be murdered with her own weapon.' Kerry paused for emphasis. 'We need more than trigger locks. I want your commitment that in five years every Lexington gun will be programmed to respond only to the fingerprint of the owner. Anyone else, and the gun won't fire.'

    Callister nodded curtly. 'You're talking about so-called smart guns,' he observed in a more approving tone. 'That's where I'd like to go. But they'd have to run on batteries, or computer chips, and withstand repeated firing. Have you ever put a computer chip in an oven? How many times does the battery in your watch die? If it does, are you worried that you'll die? But if you need a gun to fire, you may die if it doesn't. And if you do die, what are the chances your widow sues us for a product defect?

    'These concerns are real, Mr. President. The SSA will tell you that your smart gun will never be safe, and that some bad guy with a good old-fashioned American weapon will blow you and your loved ones clean away. The technology just isn't there for us yet.'

    'You'll get there a lot quicker,' Kerry responded evenly, 'with a twenty-million-dollar research grant from my administration.'

Callister raised his eyebrows. 'That's part of the deal?'

    'There's more. You're worried about a boycott. By law, I can't make promises. But I'm confident you'd be seriously considered to get a much larger share of military weapons purchases, as well as by the FBI, the ATF, and the Secret Service. For what it's worth, all thirteen cities have committed to arm their cops with a greater percentage of guns from whoever signs off first.'

    Callister emitted a long, silent breath. 'You've been busy,' he said slowly. 'What else are you prepared to offer?'

    'A complete settlement of all thirteen lawsuits, for ten million dollars in fees for the plaintiffs' lawyers.' Briefly Kerry smiled. 'For everyone but your lawyers, it's a bargain. You'd spend more on them in a year.'

    Callister's eyes held an answering amusement. 'Any other incentives?'

    'Several. While Lexington is transitioning to smart guns, its agreement to limit capacity, ban cop-killer bullets, and plug the gun-show loophole will all minimize future lawsuits. This administration won't sue you either. Between the thirteen settlements, and a whole new customer base, you'll become the envy of your peers.' Kerry's tone became cool. 'At some point, one or two of them will stop toeing the SSA line. And then we'll break those bastards for good and all. Before they take you with them.'

    Callister sat back. 'In your brave new world, Mr. President, more people will wind up owning more Lexington guns. Is that really what you want?'

    Kerry shrugged. 'If they're not the wrong people, and their guns are safer, I can live with that.'

    For a good while, Callister was silent. 'You seem to have answers for everything, Mr. President.'

    'Yes. I want this done.'

    Thoughtful, Callister adjusted his glasses. 'It won't be easy. Even if I think it's worth it, I'd have to persuade our British parent and my own board of directors. For that I need total secrecy.' He stood, restless. 'If this gets out before we're ready, any deal's dead. The SSA would have no choice but to destroy us.'

    'Any leak on my side,' Kerry answered softly, 'and the leaker will envy Martin Bresler.'

    For an instant, Callister stared at him. 'I believe you.'

    'Well, then?'

    Silent, Callister gazed at the valley beneath them. There were voices, and then Lara and her family appeared on the trail to the patio, Marie running ahead.

    Reaching the patio, she briefly glanced at Callister, then ran up to Kerry. 'We're going swimming,' she informed him. 'Will you go?'