will do? Say we put a hundred million on this one bank and it comes off ten per cent. Say twenty per cent. Twenty million? Is it worth it?’
‘Maybe we take a bigger position.’
‘And maybe it goes nowhere. And if we have to short a bunch of others, and they go nowhere …’
Grey nodded. Still, it was interesting. ‘I like the thinking. We have something that’s pretty much a sure-fire thing, which derisks the trade, and if Strickland does his bit like Boris says, we get a bonus on the other three. I like the structure.’
Malevsky smiled.
‘Which one is it, Boris, this bank of yours? Is it a serious player?’
Malevsky nodded.
‘Which bank?’
‘Fidelian.’
7
MARION ELLMAN PUT her points succinctly. Efforts to deal with climate change since Copenhagen had so far largely been a failure not only because the targets set at successive meetings were insufficient, but because enforcement had been nonexistent. But recognition of this problem was increasing. With recognition would come action to address the problem. The place for that was the next major round of negotiations, scheduled for Santiago in two years’ time. The Santiago round had to create a global enforcement mechanism that would ensure compliance. She was confident it would do that and cited a number of reasons for believing so. One of the key foreign policy objectives of the United States in the coming two years leading up to Santiago was to provide the leadership to ensure that goal was reached.
The moderator of the panel nodded. Further along the table Marion saw Joel Ehrenreich raise an eyebrow skeptically. Joel was a short, tubby guy with receded hair and a thick moustache. He was a good friend of Marion’s. Typically, when he got his chance, he proceeded to challenge her position point for point.
They had been invited to sit on the panel discussion as part of a series on global governance that was being held by the Council on Foreign Relations. Joel was a professor of international relations at Yale, but prior to that had been on the faculty at Berkeley during the time that Marion held a professorship there. Their natural ways of looking at the world were different, which always made for robust arguments.
Joel was a conceptual thinker, he looked at events in the context of long historical trends – decades, centuries – and was never happier than in an ivory tower. His academic work was on the evolution and decline of empires. Marion was more interested in the pragmatics of international relations, the dynamics between governments, the incremental year-to-year steps by which change was achieved – and being a part of it. After having provided a certain amount of foreign policy thinking to the Knowles campaign, she jumped at the opportunity when she was offered the position of UN ambassador. Joel Ehrenreich would have run a mile.
The panel was over by seven o’clock and Marion took Joel back to her apartment for dinner. They had take-in Japanese together with Marion’s husband, Dave Bartok, and their nine-year-old, Ella. Marion and Dave also had a four-year-old, Benjamin, but he was in bed by the time Marion got back. She went in to see if he was awake. He was lying curled up, asleep, his face bathed yellow by a night light.
Ella had grown up around adult conversation on international affairs and took an interest that somewhat outstripped her understanding. She wanted to know what Joel had said at the meeting.
‘I argued that we haven’t taken a significant step towards more effective global governance since the United Nations was set up,’ replied Joel.
‘Really?’ said Ella seriously, holding a piece of tuna sushi between two chopsticks. ‘Did you agree with that, Mom?’
‘No, honey, I didn’t.’
‘Okay,’ said Ella. ‘So this is like a disagreement between you two?’
‘You could say that,’ said Marion. ‘A healthy disagreement.’
Ella was silent, chewing her sushi thoughtfully. The adults watched
Noire
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