The commissioner interrupted. "Is this a question, Mr. Birdsong? If so, please come to the point."
"Yessir!” the big man beamed toward the bench. "I guess it's just that Goldman here gets under my skin because he's such a big cheese, or acts that way, and can't understand how much that kind of money means to poor people . . ."
The commissioner rapped sharply with his gavel. "Get on with it!"
Birdsong grinned again, secure in the knowledge that however much he might be scolded, the chances of being cut off entirely were remote. He turned back to Nim.
"Okay, here's my question: Did it occur to you that money like that -'mere thousands,' as you put it-means a fortune to a lot of people who will have to foot the bill for Tunipah?"
"In the first place I didn't say 'mere thousands,' or imply it," Nim retorted. "You did. In the second, yes it did occur to me, because that kind of money means a lot to me too."
"If it means that much," Birdsong said quickly, "maybe you'd like to double it."
"Maybe I would. What the hell's wrong with that?"
"I'm asking the questions." Birdsong smiled maliciously. "So you admit you'd like to double your money, and maybe you will if this Tunipah deal goes through, won't you?" He waved a hand airily. "No, don't bother answering. We'll draw our own conclusions."
Nim sat, fuming. He saw O'Brien watching him intently, trying to convey a message: Watch yourself! Be wary and moderate.
"You said some things about conservation," Birdsong resumed. "I have some questions on that too."
During the re-examination by O'Brien, conservation had been mentioned briefly. It gave p & lfp a right to raise the subject now.
"Do you know, Goldman, that if big, rich outfits like Golden State Power spent more on conservation instead of on multimillion dollar rip-offs like Tunipah, we could cut the use of electricity in this country by forty percent?"
"No, I do not know that," Nim shot back, "because a forty percent saving from conservation is unrealistic and a figure you probably pulled out of the air, the way you do most of your other accusations. The best that conservation will do-and is doing already-is help to offset a part of new growth and buy us a little time."
"Time for what?"
"Time to let the bulk of people realize they are facing an electrical crisis which can change their lives-for the worse-in ways they never dreamed of."
"Is that really true?" Birdsong taunted. "Or isn't the real truth that Golden Power doesn't want conservation because conservation interferes with profits?"
"No, it isn't the truth, not any kind of truth, and it would take a twisted mind-like yours-to suggest or believe it." Nim knew he was being baited, and was rising to the bait, probably just as Birdsong intended. Oscar O'Brien was frowning; Nim looked the other way.
"I'll ignore that nasty remark," Birdsong said, "and ask another question. Isn't the real reason you people aren't working hard at developing solar energy and wind power-which are available now-is because those are cheap power sources, and you wouldn't make the huge profits you expect from Tunipah?"
“The answer is 'no,' even though your question's a distorted half-truth.
Solar electricity is not available in sizable amounts, and won't be until the turn of the century at the earliest. Costs of collecting solar power are extremely high-far more than electricity from coal at Tunipah; also, solar may be the biggest polluter yet. As to wind power -forget it, except for peripheral, small applications."
Above Nim, the commissioner leaned forward. "Did I understand you, Mr Goldman, to say that solar power can pollute?"
"Yes, Mr. Chairman." the statement often surprised those who hadn't considered solar in all its aspects. "With today's technology, a solar power plant with the same output that we are proposing for Tunipah would need one hundred and twenty square miles of land just to house its collectors. That's roughly seventy-five thousand acres-two thirds the size of Lake Tahoe-compared with three thousand acres required by a conventional power plant such as we are proposing now. And remember-land used for those solar collectors would be shut off to any other use. If that isn't pollution . . ."
He left the sentence unfinished as the commissioner nodded. "An interesting point, Mr. Goldman. One, I suppose, that many of us hadn't thought of."
Birdsong, who had been standing impatiently during the exchange, resumed his attack. "You tell us, Goldman, that solar power won't be ready until the next century. Why should we believe you?"
"You don't have to." Nim slipped back into his earlier manner, making his contempt for Birdsong clear. "You can believe or disbelieve anything you want. But a consensus of the best technical judgments, made by experts, says that large-scale use of solar electricity is twenty-plus years away; even then it may not fulfill expectations. That's why, in the meantime, there must be coal-burning plants like Tunipah-and in a lot more places than just Tunipah-to meet the coming crisis."
Birdsong sneered, "So we're back to that fake, make-believe, phony crisis."
"When it happens," Nim told him heatedly, "you can read those words back and eat them."
The commissioner reached for his gavel to command order, then hesitated; perhaps curious to see what would happen next, he let his band fall back.
Birdsong's face reddened, his mouth tightened angrily.
"I won't be eating any words. You will!” be spat at Nim. "You'll choke on words-you and that capitalist gang at Golden State Power. Words, words, words! From these hearings, which those of us who stand against you will keep going as long as we can, and from other hearings like them. After that, still more words because we'll drag this Tunipah boondoggle through the courts, and tie you up with appeals, injunctions, and every other legal blockage in the book. Then if that isn't enough we'll raise new objections, so the whole cycle will start again and, if we have to, we'll go on for twenty years. The people will stop your profiteering schemes, and the people will win!"
The p & lfp leader paused, breathing heavily, then added, "So maybe solar energy will get here first after all, Mister Goldman. Because let me tell you, you won't get those coal-burning plants. Not Tunipah or any others. Not now or ever."
As the commissioner hesitated again, seeming fascinated by the verbal duel, a burst of applause erupted in part of the spectator section. At the same moment, Nim exploded. He slammed a fist down hard on an arm of the witness chair, then leaped to his feet. Eyes blazing, he faced Davey Birdsong.
"So maybe you will stop those plants being built-Tunipah and others-just the way you say. It happened with nuclear; it can happen again with coal. And if you do it, it will be because this crazy, self-defeating system gives limitless power to egomaniacs and kooks and charlatans like you."
Suddenly the hearing room had fallen silent. Nim's voice rose as he continued. "But spare us any sanctimonious drive], Birdsong, about you representing the people. You don't. We represent the people-ordinary, decent, normal-living people who rely on power companies like ours to light and heat their homes, and keep factories working, and do the million other things you'll cut people off from if you and your kind have their selfish, short-sighted way."
Nim swung toward the bench ' directly addressing the commissioner and administrative law judge. "What's needed now, in this state and most others, is intelligent compromise. Compromise between the 'no-growth-at-any-pricers' like the Sequoia Club and Birdsong and those who call for maximum growth and damn the environmental Well, I-and the company I work for-admit the need for compromise, and urge it on ourselves and others. We recognize there are no easy, simple choices, which is why we seek the middle ground, namely: Let there be some growth, but for God's sake grant us the means-electrically-to accommodate it."
He turned back to Birdsong. "What you'll do for people in the end is make them suffer. Suffer from desperate shortages, from massive unemployment, from all the big and small things which won't work without electric power-all of it when the crisis hits, a crisis which isn't phony but is real, a crisis which will sweep across North America, and probably a lot of other places in the world."
Nim asked the silent, surprised figure in front of him, "And where will you be then, Birdsong? In hiding, probably. Hiding from the people who'll have found out what you really are-a cheat and faker who misled them."