Sterne smiled patiently. “Very eloquent, Kim. However, my concerns haven’t gone away. I’ll borrow your numbering technique to make my own points. Number one, RAM is not a nice organization. They’re at the cutting edge of everything that’s wrong with the media today. They’ve become a megaphone for the ugliest and most divisive sentiments in society. They glorify aggressiveness and make a virtue of ignorance. Your priority may be to convey the truth, but that’s not their priority. Number two, they have more experience in manipulating people like you than you have in managing people like them. There’s no realistic chance of your maintaining control over your series. I know you’re asking your participants to sign exclusivity agreements with you, but don’t be surprised if RAM finds some way around that. Number three, even if RAM didn’t have a poisonous agenda, I’d still advise you to abort your project. You have an interesting premise, but you also have the potential for generating great pain. The price of your project outweighs its rewards. You have good intentions, but good intentions can create suffering—especially when you publicize private feelings. Number four, my personal experience still remains, after all these years, vivid proof of everything I’m saying. I’ve alluded to this before, Kim, but perhaps I should be more specific. Nineteen years ago, when I was in dental school, a close friend at another university was killed. I remember the media coverage as hysterical, shallow, cheap, utterly disgusting. And utterly typical. The sad fact is that the underlying imperatives of the media business favor the production of trash. The market for trash is larger than the market for sensitive, intelligent comment. That’s simply the nature of the business, the nature of the audience. Media Economics 101.”

They went back and forth a few more times, both restating the thoughts they’d already expressed, the edges of their disagreement muffled by cordiality. The exchange ended when Sterne checked the time and apologized for not being able to continue.

“Do you commute from here to your practice in the city?” asked Gurney.

“Only one or two days a week. I do very little hands-on work anymore. The practice in reality is a substantial dental-medical corporation, and I’m more like the chairman of the board than a working dentist. I’m blessed with good partners and efficient managers. So I spend most of my time involved with outside medical and dental organizations—charities and suchlike. In that respect I’m a very fortunate man.”

“Larry, dear …”

In the doorway of the sitting room stood a tall, very shapely, almond-eyed woman, pointing at a delicate gold watch on her wrist.

“Yes, Lila, I know. My guests are just leaving.”

She smiled and retreated.