State of Fear

"A fall? Was that published?"

 

"Last year," she said. The food came; Jennifer gave a dismissive wave of her hand: enough shop talk for now. She ate her burrito with gusto, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. He saw a jagged white scar running from her palm down the underside of her forearm. She said, "God, I love this food. You can't get decent Mexican food in DC."

 

"Is that where you're from?"

 

She nodded. "I came out to help John."

 

"He asked you?"

 

"I couldn't turn him down." She shrugged. "So I see my boyfriend on alternate weekends. He comes out here, or I go back there. But if this trial goes forward, it will be a year, maybe two years. I don't think our relationship will make it."

 

"What does he do? Your boyfriend."

 

"Attorney."

 

Evans smiled. "Sometimes I think everyone's an attorney."

 

"Everyone is. He does securities law. Not my thing."

 

"What's your thing?"

 

"Witness prep and jury selection. Psychological analysis of the pool. That's why I'm in charge of the focus groups."

 

"I see."

 

"We know that most people we might put on the jury will have heard of global warming, and most will probably be inclined to think it is real."

 

"Jesus, I'dhope so," Evans said. "I mean, it's been an established fact for the last fifteen years."

 

"But we need to determine what people will believe in the face of contrary evidence."

 

"Such as?"

 

"Such as the graphs I showed you today. Or the satellite data. You know about the satellite data?"

 

Evans shook his head.

 

"The theory of global warming predicts that the upper atmosphere will warm from trapped heat, just like a greenhouse. The surface of the Earth warms later. But since 1979 we've had orbiting satellites that can continuously measure the atmosphere five miles up. They show that the upper atmosphere is warming much less than the ground is."

 

"Maybe there's a problem with the data--"

 

"Trust me, the satellite data have been re-analyzed dozens of times," she said. "They're probably the most intensely scrutinized data in the world. But the data from weather balloons agree with the satellites. They show much less warming than expected by the theory." She shrugged. "Another problem for us. We're working on it."

 

"How?"

 

"We think it'll prove too complex for a jury. The details of MSUs--microwave-sounding units, cross-track scanners with four-channel radiance analysis--and the questions about whether channel 2 has been corrected for diurnal drifts and inter-satellite offsets, time-varying nonlinear instrumental responses...We hope it will make them throw up their hands. Anyway. Enough of all that." She wiped her face with her napkin and again he saw the white scar that ran down the underside of her arm.

 

"How'd you get that?" he said.

 

She shrugged. "In law school."

 

"And I thought my school was tough."

 

"I taught an inner-city karate class," she said. "Sometimes it went late. You want any more of these chips?"

 

"No," he said.

 

"Shall we get the check?"

 

"Tell me," he said.

 

"There's not a lot to tell. One night, I got in my car to drive home, and a kid jumped in the passenger seat and pulled a gun. Told me to start driving."

 

"Kid from your class?"

 

"No. An older kid. Late twenties."

 

"What'd you do?"

 

"I told him to get out. He told me to drive. So I started the car, and as I put it in gear I asked him where he wanted me to go. And he was stupid enough to point, so I hit him in the windpipe. I didn't hit him hard enough, and he got off a round, blew out the windshield. Then I hit him again with my elbow. Couple, three times."

 

"What happened to him?" he said.

 

"He died."

 

"Jesus," Evans said.

 

"Some people make bad decisions," she said. "What're you staring at me like that for? He was six-two and two-ten and had a record from here to Nebraska. Armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted rape--you name it. You think I should feel sorry for him?"

 

"No," Evans said quickly.

 

"You do, I can see it in your eyes. A lot of people do. They go, He was just a kid, how could you do that? Let me tell you, people don't know what the hell they're talking about. One of us was going to get killed that night. I'm glad it wasn't me. But of course, it still bothers me."

 

"I'll bet."

 

"Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat. Seeing the gunshot blow the windshield in front of my face. Realizing how close I came to dying. I was stupid. I should have killed him the first time."

 

Evans paused. He didn't know what to say.

 

"You ever had a gun at your head?" she said.

 

"No..."

 

"Then you have no idea how it feels, do you?"

 

"Was there trouble about it?" he said.

 

"You bet your ass there was trouble. For a while I thought I wasn't going to be able to practice law. They claimed I led him on. Do you believe that shit? I never saw the guy in my life. But then a very good attorney came to my rescue."

 

"Balder?"

 

She nodded. "That's why I'm here."

 

"And what about your arm?"