Balance of Power

    "Indeed. He hears that Fasano's positioning you to vote with the SSA and wondered aloud if that would damage you in Maine." Reflective, Colby studied the dim-lit dining room, the clusters of members, principally older men, engaged in quiet but amiable discourse. "It was all very artful. Chuck is going to war."

    This made Cassie smile again. "This one," she told him, "is shaping up to make a reunion of the Borgias look like pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. As for Hampton, to my surprise, it looks like he's going to the barricades with the newly minted 'KFK.' That's not good news."

    " 'KFK,' " Colby mused aloud. "When he first came to the Senate, who'd have thought it?

    "In any event, this could be a classic. I've always thought of Fasano as fusing the best of Lyndon Johnson and the KGB: pragmatic, shrewd, hard as nails and a master of indirection. Whereas Kilcannon's essentially a romantic, which—combined with a considerable inventiveness and what the generous might call his strength of will—makes him the most dangerous man in Washington. Because he'll cut your throat in the service of a higher cause." Colby sipped his brandy. "I hear he plans to visit every state where a senator is on the fence. It seems that may implicate you."

    Cassie nodded. "The threats and blandishments have begun to fly from all sides. Dane's demanding a meeting—with scant courtesy, I might add."

    "I can imagine. It feels wonderful, I must admit, to have graduated to statesman." Pausing, Colby adopted an encouraging tone. "You should be all right, Cassie. Granted, I don't think you've ever shot anything, but you're foursquare for hunting and that recent photo of you trout-fishing was inspired. The last time I looked, your approval rating was well over half, and there wasn't any talk—serious talk, at any rate—of a primary challenge. Which, as of now, leaves you with only one problem: Abel Randolph. Assuming he decides to run against you in the general."

    "Oh, he'll run," Cassie said with certainty. "He's a popular incumbent governor, term-limited, with nowhere else to go and approval ratings at least as high as mine."

    Thoughtful, Colby gazed past her. "There are certain constants," he said at length. "You'll win the conservative areas upstate, and Abel will carry Portland and most of the other cities.

    "The fulcrum will be the suburbs. They're largely populated by moderates—plus the new people moving up from Massachusetts, which is not the best thing in the world for you. But you're positioned to do well enough to win: conservative on taxes and defense, moderate to liberal on social issues like abortion. And being a woman helps you there." Pausing, Colby looked at her directly. "Aside from prescription drug costs, the one joker in the deck—the one that loses you our seat, if anything does—is guns."

    Cassie placed her napkin on the table. "The SSA has tolerated me," she said. "But they don't love me, and Maine's got the second highest gun ownership per capita. There's no way that Charles Dane is giving me a pass on these two bills."

    Colby finished his brandy. "The SSA," he acknowledged, "accounts for some of my most shameful votes in the Senate. The price of survival, I told myself."

    "I only wish," Cassie said tartly, "that selling out

this time was so easy. I don't even know which way to sell out.

    "The last election showed how fenced in I could be. A week before the primary, I was leading Bill Poole by thirty percent. Then in the final debate he pushed me into saying something favorable about the assault weapons ban. The SSA sent out one hundred thousand orange postcards headed 'voter alert,' pointing out my left-wing deviation to everyone on their mailing list." Cassie gave a sardonic smile. "My polls went into free fall, and I won by six percent. Another week and I might have lost."

    "Maybe. But then you won the general election."

    "By the grace of the SSA," Cassie retorted. "When the Democrats put up Sam Towle, they overlooked his sins. Not only did he vote for the assault weapons ban in Congress, but he'd sponsored a bill advocating safety locks, and banning cop-killer bullets like the Eagle's Claw. This time the hundred thousand orange SSA postcards identified Sam as the author of the 'Burglar Protection Act.'

    "By this time I'd learned my lesson—I kept quiet about the Eagle's Claw, and loved the Second Amendment like the child I never had." Pausing, Cassie added quietly, "When I think about Lara's family, I remember that. But I beat Sam Towle by four percent, and the SSA may well have made the difference."

    Colby's face was sober. "Sam," he remarked, "is a good man. He's also finished in Maine politics."

    "I know. But Hampton's right this time—either way, I've got a problem."

    Colby pondered this. "Not that, on gun issues, I'm any model. But if the only factor you were to consider is what's right, where would you come out here?"