Balance of Power

    Abruptly, the war hero was replaced by pictures of a picturesque frontier town. This, the narrator began, is Libby, Montana.

    It's a place where folks work hard, and don't ask for anything more than a fair shake. But now many of its people are dying from asbestosis, and their families are facing an uphill battle against asbestos companies who are using big donations, deceptive ads, and high-priced lobbyists to persuade our elected representatives in Washington to protect them . . .

    "Didn't take Lenihan long," Kerry remarked.

    The bucolic scene was replaced by somber faces. First, a gentle, greyhaired woman said, They killed my husband, and now my four boys are dying, too. Then came a man with sad eyes and hollow cheeks,

They lied to us, he explained. We knew it was dusty, but we didn't know it was deadly.

    To Kerry, the testament of real people packed a raw power no artifice could match. Three members of my family died, a pretty young woman told the camera. My brother Hank, my Uncle Lee, and my cousin Alex. We'd be held accountable if it was us who did this . . .

    "Not," Kit interrupted, "if you've given Leo Weller a hundred thousand or so."

    As if on cue, Weller's face appeared. Now Senator Leo Weller, the young woman's voice continued, is sponsoring legislation to keep us from holding the company responsible.

    With a jarring abruptness, Weller was replaced by a dying man breathing through a respirator. I'd like an apology from Leo Weller, he said in a labored wheeze. But he wouldn't even meet with us. I want to know before I die what makes an asbestos company's profits more important than my life . . .

    "Seems fair enough," observed Kit. "Wonder what Weller would tell him."

    The first woman reappeared, her words more piercing for the plainspoken flatness of her speech. The asbestos industry is spending millions of dollars pushing legislation they wrote, sponsored by Senator Weller, to protect them from the people they poisoned. They call it the Civil Justice Reform Act. We hope you'll call Senator Weller and ask him why he won't stand up for us.

    Against a black background, the telephone number of Weller's Washington office appeared in white. Softly, the woman finished,

Please help us, and then the screen went dark.

    It was a moment before Kerry spoke. "Know what the media buy is?"

    "Two million," Kit answered. "In Montana, that's enough to run it every night, on every station, for the next three weeks. Lenihan's people have already taken this to CNN and Nightline, and they're both looking at doing stories."

    Kerry looked up at her. "A couple of weeks of this and Leo may be a tad more flexible on tort reform." He briefly shook his head. "It's exactly what I wanted them to do—put their money on the screen. It's also what Chad Palmer and I spent half our careers complaining about— except now the trial lawyers are almost as powerful as the corporations, and they're both at least as powerful as the parties they're trying to buy. All that's changed is that we've all become a little worse, and the system a little worse off."

    Kit did not answer. Kerry realized that the plane had slowed; glancing out the window, he saw the mirage which was Las Vegas.

    "Do you really want to do this?" Kit asked. "You've got no idea in the world what will happen."

    Kerry smiled faintly. "Just stand back from me a little. With any luck, they'll miss you."

SIX

At two o'clock in the afternoon, Lara and Avram Gold entered the conference room of Nolan's firm.