Kenner said to Lowenstein, "I'd still like to see the medical examiner's notification."
Lowenstein snorted. "You have no basis for such a request, and I formally deny it. I am the senior attorney in charge of the estate. I am his designated executor, and I have already told you that my office has the documentation in hand."
"I heard you," Kenner said. "But I seem to remember that to falsely declare probate is fraud. That could be quite serious for an officer of the court such as you."
"Look," Lowenstein said, "I don't know what your game is"
"I merely want to see the document," Kenner said calmly. "There's a fax machine in the flight office, right there." He pointed to the building, near the airplane. "You can have the document sent over in a few seconds and resolve this matter without difficulty. Or, barring that, you can call the medical examiner's office in San Francisco and confirm that they have, in fact, made a positive identification."
"But we are in the presence of two eyewitnesses who"
"These are the days of DNA testing," Kenner said, looking at his watch. "I recommend that you make the calls." He turned to the security officers. "You can open the aircraft."
The security officers looked nonplussed. "Mr. Lowenstein?"
"Just a minute, just a goddamned minute," Lowenstein said, and stalked off toward the office, putting his cell phone to his ear as he went.
"Open the plane," Kenner said. He flipped open his wallet and showed the guards his badge.
"Yes, sir," they said.
Another car pulled up, and Sarah got out with Ann Garner. Ann said, "What's the fuss?"
"Just a little misunderstanding," Kenner said. He introduced himself to her.
"I know who you are," she said, with barely concealed hostility.
"I thought you might," Kenner said, smiling.
"And I have to say," she continued, "it's guys like yousmart and unscrupulous and immoralwho have made our environment the polluted mess that it now is. So let's just get that on the table right away. I don't like you, Mr. Kenner. I don't like you personally, and I don't like what you do in the world, and I don't like anything you stand for."
"Interesting," Kenner said. "Perhaps some day you and I could have a detailed and specific conversation about exactly what is wrong with our environment, and exactly who is responsible for making it a polluted mess."
"Whenever you want," she said, angrily.
"Good. You have legal training?"
"No."
"Scientific training?"
"No."
"What is your background?"
"I worked as a documentary film producer. Before I quit to raise my family."
"Ah."
"But I am very dedicated to the environment, and I have been all my life," she said. "I read everything. I read the Science' section of the New York Times every Tuesday cover to cover, of course The New Yorker, and the New York Review. I am extremely well informed."
"Well then," Kenner said, "I look forward to our conversation."
The pilots were driving up to the gate; they waited while it opened. "I think we can leave in a few minutes," Kenner said. He turned to Evans. "Why don't you confirm that that is all right with Mr. Lowenstein."
"Okay," Evans said, and headed toward the flight office.
"Just so you know," Ann said, "we're going with you. I am, and so is Ted."
"That will be delightful," Kenner said.
Inside the flight office, Evans found Lowenstein hunched over a phone in the back room reserved for pilots. "But I'm telling you, the guy isn't going for it, he wants documentation," Lowenstein said. And then after a pause, "Look, Nick, I'm not going to lose my license over this one. The guy's got a law degree from Harvard."
Evans knocked on the door. "Everything okay for us to leave?"
"Just a minute," Lowenstein said into the phone. He put his hand over the receiver. "You're going to leave now?"
"That's right. Unless you have the document amp;"
"It seems there is some confusion about the exact status of Morton's estate."
"Then we're going, Herb."
"Okay, okay."
He turned back to the phone. "They're leaving, Nick," he said. "You want to stop them, do it yourself."
In the cabin, everyone was sitting down. Kenner went around passing out sheets of paper. "What's this?" Bradley said, with a glance to Ann.
"It's a release," Kenner said.
Ann was reading aloud, "¬ liable in the event of death, serious bodily injury, disability, dismemberment'dismemberment?"
"That's right," Kenner said. "You need to understand that where we are going is extremely dangerous. I strongly advise both of you not to come. But if you insist on ignoring my advice, you need to sign that."
"Where are we going?" Bradley said.
"I can't tell you that until the plane is in the air."
"Why is it dangerous?"
"Do you have a problem signing the form?" Kenner said.
"No. Hell." Bradley scrawled his signature.
"Ann?"
Ann hesitated, bit her lip, and signed.
The pilot closed the doors. The engines whined as they taxied up the runway. The flight attendant asked what they would like to drink.
"Puligny-Montrachet," Evans said.
Ann said, "Where are we going?"
"To an island off the coast of New Guinea."
"Why?"
"There is a problem," Kenner said, "that has to be dealt with."
"You want to be any more specific?"
"Not right now."
The plane rose above the cloud layer in Los Angeles, and turned west, over the Pacific.
Chapter 74
EN ROUTE
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 13
4:10 P.M.
Sarah felt relieved when Jennifer Haynes went to the front of the cabin to take a nap, falling instantly asleep. But she found it awkward to have Ann and Ted onboard. Conversation in the cabin was stilted; Kenner was not saying much. Ted was drinking heavily. He said to Ann, "Just so you know, Mr. Kenner doesn't believe in anything that normal people believe in. Not even global warming. Or Kyoto."
"Of course he doesn't believe in Kyoto," Ann said. "He's an industry hit man. Representing coal and oil interests."
Kenner said nothing. He just handed her his card.
"Institute for Risk Analysis," Ann read aloud. "That's a new one. I'll add it to the list of phony right-wing fronts."
Kenner said nothing.
"Because it's all disinformation," Ann said. "The studies, the press releases, the flyers, websites, the organized campaigns, the big-money smears. Let me tell you, industry was thrilled when the US didn't sign Kyoto."
Kenner rubbed his chin, and said nothing.
Ann said, "We're the world's largest polluter, and our government doesn't give a damn."
Kenner smiled blandly.
"So now the United States is an international pariah, isolated from the rest of the world and justifiably despised because we failed to sign the Kyoto Protocol to attack a global problem."
She continued to goad him in this way, and finally, it seemed, he had had enough. "Tell me about Kyoto, Ann," he said. "Why should we have signed it?"
"Why? Because we have a moral obligation to join the rest of the civilized world in reducing carbon emissions to below 1990 levels."
"What effect would that treaty have?"
"The whole world knows that. It would reduce global temperatures in the year 2100."
"By how much?"
"I don't know what you're driving at."
"Don't you? The answer is well known. The effect of Kyoto would be to reduce warming by.04 degrees Celsius in the year 2100. Four hundredths of a degree. Do you dispute that outcome?"
"I certainly do. Four what? Hundredths of a degree? That's ridiculous."
"So you don't believe that would be the effect of the Kyoto Protocol?"
"Well, maybe because the United States didn't sign it"
"No, that would be the effect if we did sign it. Four hundredths of a degree."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't believe that's true."
"The figure has been published a number of times in scientific journals. I can give you the references."* Raising his glass, Bradley said to Ann, "This guy is real big on references."
"As opposed to rhetoric," Kenner said, nodding. "Yes. I am."
Bradley belched. "Four hundredths of a degree? In a hundred years? What a bunch of bullshit."
"One could say so."
"I just did," Bradley said.
"But Kyoto's a first step," Ann said, "that's the point. Because if you believe in the precautionary principle, as I do"
"I didn't think the purpose of Kyoto was to take a first step," Kenner said. "I thought the purpose was to reduce global warming."
"Well, it is."
"Then why make a treaty that won't accomplish that? That won't, in effect, do anything at all?"
"It's a first step, as I said."
"Tell me: do you think it's possible to reduce carbon dioxide?"
"Of course. There are a host of alternative energy sources just waiting to be adopted. Wind power, solar, waste, geothermal"
"Tom Wigley and a panel of seventeen scientists and engineers from around the world made a careful study and concluded it is not possible. Their paper was published in Science. They said there is no known technology capable of reducing carbon emissions, or even holding them to levels many times higher than today. They conclude that wind, solar, and even nuclear power will not be sufficient to solve the problem. They say totally new and undiscovered technology is required."* "That's crazy," Ann said. "Amory Lovins laid it all out twenty years ago. Wind and solar, conservation, energy efficiency. There's no problem."
"Apparently there is. Lovins predicted that thirty-five percent of US power would come from alternative energy by the year 2000. The actual figure turned out to be six percent."
"Not enough subsidies."
"No country in the world produces thirty-five percent renewable energy, Ann."
"But countries like Japan do much better than we do."
Kenner said, "Japan is five percent renewable. Germany is five percent. England two percent."
"Denmark."
"Eight percent."
"Well," she said, "it just means we have more work to do."
"No question about that. Wind farms chop birds to pieces, so they might not be so popular. But solar panels would work. Silent, efficient amp;"
"Solar is great," she said.
"Yes," Kenner said. "And all we need is about twenty-seven thousand square kilometers of panels to do the job. Just cover the state of Massachusetts with solar panels and we'd be done. Of course by 2050 our energy needs will triple, so maybe New York would be a better choice."
"Or Texas. Nobody I know cares about Texas," Ann said.
"Well, there you are," Kenner said. "Cover ten percent of Texas, and you're in business. Although," he added, "Texans would probably prefer to cover Los Angeles first."
"You're making a joke."
"Not at all. Let's settle on Nevada. It's all desert anyway. But I'm curious to hear about your personal experience with alternative energy. What about you yourself, Ann? Have you adopted alternative sources?"
"Yes. I have solar heating for my swimming pool. The maid drives a hybrid."
"What do you drive?"
"Well, I need a bigger car for the kids."
"How big?"
"Well, I drive an SUV. Sometimes."
"What about your residence? You have solar panels for your electricity?"
"Well, I had consultants come to the house. Only, Jerrymy husbandsays it's too expensive to install. But I'm working on him."
"And your appliances amp;"
"Every single one is Energystar. Every one."
"That's good. And how large is your family?"
"I have two boys. Seven and nine."
"Wonderful. How big is your house?"
"I don't know exactly."
"How many square feet?"
She hesitated.
"Ah hell, tell him, Ann," Bradley said. "She has a huge fucking house. Must be ten, fifteen thousand square feet. Absolutely beautiful. And the grounds! Got to be an acre, acre and a half. Sprinklers going day and night. And such gorgeous landscapingshe has fund-raisers there all the time. Always wonderful events."
Kenner looked at her.
"Twelve thousand," Ann said. "Square feet."
"For four people?" Kenner said.
"Well, my mother-in-law lives with us, sometimes. And of course the maid in the back."
"And do you have a second home?" Kenner said.
"Shit, she's got two," Bradley said. "Got a fabulous place in Aspen, and a great house in Maine as well."
"That we inherited," Ann said. "My husband"
"And that apartment in London," Bradley said, "is that yours or your husband's company or what?"
"The company."
Kenner said, "How about travel? You use private jets?"
"Well, I mean we don't own one, but we catch rides, whatever. We go when people are going anyway. We fill the plane up. Which is a good thing."
"Of course," Kenner said. "But I must admit I'm a little confused about the philosophy"
"Hey," she said, suddenly angry. "I live in a milieu where I have to keep up a certain standard. It's necessary for my husband's business, andanyway, where do you live?"
"I have an apartment in Cambridge."
