Balance of Power

    "You lost, Mr. President." Leaning forward, Hampton mustered all the conviction he possessed. "In the senate, we've got forty-six votes out of a hundred. I can't get forty for any gun law you could sign without gagging. That's the fact."

    Gazing at Hampton across the table, the President rested his chin against the curled fingers of one hand. "What else should I consider?"

    "You know all this, Mr. President." Hampton stopped abruptly, stifling his aggravation, the strong sense that Kilcannon was toying with him. "There's also the union vote. At least forty percent of the rank and file has some sympathy for the SSA. In Michigan, they shut down auto plants on the first day of deer season.

    "The AFL-CIO is

not willing to sacrifice jobs or health care or better public schools to gun control. Their president told me just yesterday, 'more people get killed in car wrecks than with guns.' "

    "Sweeney," Kerry said coldly, "can say a lot of things. But the AFLCIO needs me to succeed. Without me, they're screwed."

    Hampton sat back. In the rawest sense of power politics, this was true—the union leadership had nowhere else to go, and so must fight to save the president they had. "So let's talk about the SSA," Kilcannon continued calmly. "They're like the Wizard of Oz—as scary as you imagine them to be. After every election, they go around claiming victory— listen to them, and you'd think their candidates never lost a race. But last year they lost five of seven Senate seats they targeted. Then they proceeded to brag about their power, and lie about their losses.

    "You keep mentioning the states I lost. How is it, I sometimes wonder, that I'm sitting here." Kilcannon's voice became sardonic. "Perhaps because of California and New Jersey, which I won partly because

of gun control.

    "Look at the map. This rural culture you keep worrying about is fading away, replaced by suburbanites who worry less about hunting season than keeping their local incarnation of Bowden away from school yards." Kilcannon's voice softened. "The SSA feeds on our own cowardice. Every day they hope we won't notice that they're more scared than we are. And have more to be scared about."

    Hampton shook his head. "Fear works for them just fine, Mr. President. That's what they use you for—to scare their members into giving them votes and money so that they can keep their guns . . ."

    "I've heard them," Kilcannon interjected with an ironic smile. "They're like tent show evangelists—'send us money, or Kerry Kilcannon will get you before the Devil does.' 'Confiscation was the first step to the Holocaust.' 'Without our guns, Kilcannon will set loose gays and blacks and lesbians, unleashing a new epidemic of AIDS and destroying the white male–dominated family which has made this country strong.' 'Once Kilcannon takes your gun, Al Qaeda terrorists will make house calls door-to-door.' " Pausing, Kilcannon added dryly, "After that, I'm planning to unleash the Internal Revenue Service."

    Reluctantly, Hampton smiled. "My personal favorite," Kilcannon told him, "was the family of five slaughtered by a madman with a pitchfork because they'd locked away their guns. Too bad it's a total fabrication.

    "There will always be a lunatic fringe, Chuck. But these people don't speak for most gun owners. Right now, no one does." Kilcannon leaned forward. "I'm not getting into a catfight with the SSA—that would make them too important. I intend to talk right past them, and let them get hysterical on their own."

    "That won't be easy." Pausing, Hampton folded his hands. "I'm a duck hunter, Mr. President. But I can't bring that up at a dinner party in this town without some desiccated society woman thinking I'm a murderer.

    "I was raised on a farm. When I was seven, my dad gave me a twenty-two and taught me to use it safely. I went to college on a sharpshooting scholarship, and I still collect guns. I've even got a shooting range behind my farmhouse.

    "Vermont's full of people like me. We enjoy guns, period. I'm trying to make the Democratic Party a safe place for these folks. But every time you say 'gun control' what they hear is a city boy who views them with disdain." Hampton spoke more quietly. "Bowden should never have had a gun. As far as I'm concerned, the SSA has blood on their hands, including the First Lady's family's. But most gun owners out there believe that the SSA at least respects them, and that you don't.

    "You could get us beaten. You could even lose the Presidency. Instead we'll have some blow-dried reactionary like Fasano who shafts minorities, women and the poor, doesn't give a damn about health care, and thinks the Second Amendment protects lunatics with rocket launchers."

    Kilcannon's smile was faint. "Believe it or not," he answered, "I've

thought a lot about white males, and all the states I lost. And about why I'm sitting here instead of the guy who won them.