Not I.

Are you?

7.

The subject was Tunipah.

"Talking to the Governor of this state about anything," J. Eric Humphrey declared in his clipped Bostonian accent, "has about the same effect as putting one's band into a pail of water. As soon as you take the hand out, the water is exactly the way it was before, as if the hand had never been there."

"Except," Ray Paulsen pointed out, "your hand would be wet."

"Clammy," the chairman corrected.

"I warned you," Teresa Van Buren said. "I warned you right after the blackout two months ago that public memory is short, that people-including politicians-would forget the power shortage and the reasons."

"Memory isn't the Governor's problem," Oscar O'Brien assured her. The general counsel had been with Eric Humphrey during recent sessions at the state capitol, where proposals for new generating plants -including Tunipah-had been discussed. He went on, "There's only one trouble with our Governor: He wants to be President of the United States. He wants it so bad, he can taste it."

Nim Goldman said, "Who knows? He might make a good president."

"He might at that," O'Brien conceded. "In the meantime, though, California is rudderless, stuck with a head of state who won't take stands or hand down decisions. Not if they're likely to offend a single national voter."

"Allowing for slight exaggeration," Eric Humphrey said, "that is the essence of our problem."

"Furthermore," O'Brien added, blowing cigar smoke, "the same thing applies-for similar if different reasons-to every other public figure in Sacramento."

The five of them were at Golden State Power & Light headquarters, in the chairman's office suite, seated informally in the lounge area.

In less than two weeks public hearings on the proposed coal-burning, high-capacity generating plant at Tunipah would begin. And while the project was vital to California-a viewpoint agreed to privately by the Governor, his aides and senior legislators-for political reasons none would lend public support to the Tunipah plan. The utility, despite strong opposition forces, must "go it alone."

Something else the Governor had rejected was GSP & L's plea that the several regulatory agencies which would be intervened with licensing Tunipah should hold joint hearings because of urgency. Instead, regular procedures would take their course. It meant a long, exhausting series of submissions and argument before four separate government bodies, each concerned with a differing aspect, though often overlapping.

Teresa Van Buren asked, "Is the Governor, or anyone else, likely to have a change of heart?"

"Only if the bastards see an advantage to themselves," Ray Paulsen growled.

"And they won't." Paulsen had grown increasingly bitter of late about the frustrating delays in having plans approved. As the executive in charge of power supply, Paulsen would have the unpopular job of initiating power cuts when they became needed in the future.

"Ray's right," O'Brien acknowledged. "We all know bow the Sacramento gang left us holding the bag on nuclear, admitting-off the record-the need for nuclear plants, but without the guts to say so out loud."

"Well," Eric Humphrey said incisively, "whether we like that attitude or despise it, the same is true again. Now about the Tunipah hearings. I have some thoughts to share with you. I want our own participation in those hearings to be of the highest caliber. Our presentation must be factual, reasoned, calm and dignified. Under cross-examination the responses of all our representatives must be the same, with emphasis on courtesy and patience. As part of their tactics, the opposition will try to provoke us.

We must resist that provocation and I want all our people briefed to that effect."

"It will be done," Oscar O'Brien said.

Ray Paulsen regarded Nim somberly. "Remember that applies to you," Nim grimaced. "I'm already practicing restraint, Ray-right now."

Neither had forgotten their clash at the management meeting where Nim and Van Buren favored a hard-line public airing of the utility's problems, Paulsen and a majority of others the reverse. Judging by the chairman's instructions, the "moderate line" was still in effect.

"Do you still believe, Oscar," Eric Humphrey asked, "that it is necessary for me, personally, to appear at those hearings?"

O'Brien nodded. "Absolutely yes."

Behind the question, obviously, was Humphrey's wish to avoid public attention. During the past ten days there had been two more bombings at GSP & L installations, none causing major damage but a reminder of 1the continuing danger to the utility and its personnel. Only yesterday a warning, telephoned to a radio station, declared that "more Golden State Piss & Lickspittle management criminals will shortly pay the people's penalty for their misdeeds."

O'Brien added, "I promise it will be a brief appearance, Eric, but we need you on the record."

The chairman sighed. "Very well."

Nim thought with wry humor: As usual, the low-profile strategy would not apply to him. At the upcoming hearings Nim would appear as a key witness and, while others from the utility would testify on technical matters, Nim would present the broad sweep of the Tunipah project. Oscar O'Brien would lead the witnesses through interrogation.

Nim and O'Brien already had had several rehearsals in which Ray Paulsen shared.

During their work with O'Brien, Paulsen and Nim had suppressed their normal antagonism and at moments had come close to amiability.

Taking advantage of this, Nim raised with Paulsen the subject of a used van for Karen Sloan because transportation was a subordinate department under Power Supply.

To Nim's surprise, Paulsen was interested and helpful. Within forty-eight hours of their conversation, be had located a suitable van which would shortly be available for sale. More than that, Ray Paulsen was personally designing some modifications. They would facilitate loading Karen's wheelchair into the van and, once inside, locking it in place. Karen telephoned Nim to say that a GSP & L mechanic had visited her to measure her chair and check on electrical connections.

"One of the best things that's ever happened to me," Karen told Nim during their phone talk, "was your seeing that red circle on the map that day and afterwards coming here. Speaking of that, when are you coming again, dear Nimrod? Soon, I hope." He had promised he would. Later, Nim had phoned Karen's parents, Luther and Henrietta, who were delighted about the van and were now arranging a bank loan to cover most of its cost.

Oscar O'Brien's voice brought Nim back to the present. "I presume all of you realize how long this entire process concerning Tunipah is likely to take."

Paulsen said gloomily, "Too damn long!"

Van Buren inquired, "What's your best estimate, Oscar?"

"Assuming we are successful at the various sets of hearings, and allowing for delaying court actions subsequently, which our opponents are certain to resort to-I'd say six to seven years." the general counsel shuffled papers. "You may also be interested in costs. My department estimates that our own costs-just to seek the license to build, and whether we win or lose-will be five and a half million dollars. Environmental studies will cost a few million more, and we won't have turned a spade until construction is fully licensed."

"Let us make sure, Tess," Eric Humphrey told the PR director, "that that information becomes as widely known as possible."

"I'll try," Van Buren said. "Though I can't guarantee that many outside this room will care."

"They'll care when the lights go out," Humphrey snapped. "All right, I want to review progress, if any, on our other applications Devil's Gate pumped storage and Fincastle geothermal."

"'If any' is right," O'Brien observed. He reported that so far only the earliest skirmishes through bureaucratic jungles had been accomplished. Countless others lay ahead. Meanwhile, massive opposition to Devil's Gate and Fincastle was growing . . .

Listening, Nim experienced a surge of anger at the cumbrous, inefficient system and the utility's own faintheartedness in failing to attack it strongly. Nim knew he would have trouble at the Tunipah bearings. Trouble in exercising restraint, difficulty in maintaining patience, a reluctance to curb his own harsh words which could speak the truth forthrightly.

8.

J. Eric Humphrey sat red-faced and uncomfortable in the elevated, hard-backed witness chair. He had been there half a day-already several hours longer than the "brief appearance" Oscar O'Brien had promised him.

Three feet away, in the courtroom-like setting, Davey Birdsong stood facing the witness and towering over him. Birdsong swayed slightly as be transferred his formidable weight from his heels to the balls of his feet, then back, forward, back again. "Since you must be hard of hearing, I'll repeat my question. How much do you get paid each year?"

Humphrey, who had hesitated when the question was first posed, glanced at O'Brien, seated at counsel's table. The lawyer gave the slightest of shrugs.

Tight-lipped, the GSP&L chairman answered, "Two hundred and forty-five thousand dollars."

Birdsong waved a hand airily. "No, sport, you misunderstand me, I didn't ask the capitalization of Golden State Power &, Light. I asked how in much bread you earn."

Humphrey, unamused, replied,- "That-is the figure I gave."

"I can hardly believe it!" Birdsong clapped a hand to his bead in a theatrical gesture. "I didn't believe that any one person could earn so much money." He emitted a long, low whistle. "Wow!"

From the audience in the warm, crowded hearing room came echoing whistles and other "wows!" Someone called out, "We consumers are the ones who pay it too damn much!" there was applause for the heckler and stomping on the floor.

On the bench above, looking down at witness, questioner and spectators, the presiding commissioner reached for a gavel. He tapped with it lightly and commanded, "Order!" the commissioner, in his mid-thirties and with a pink, boyish face, had been appointed to his post a year ago after service in the ruling political party. He was an accountant by training and was rumored to be a relative of the Governor.

As the commissioner spoke, O'Brien lumbered to his feet. "Mr. Chairman, is this harassment of my witness necessary?"

The commissioner regarded Birdsong, who was wearing his uniform of shabby jeans, a multi-colored shirt open at the neck, and tennis shoes. In contrast, Humphrey, who ordered his three-piece suits from deLisi in New York and went there for fittings, was sartorially impeccable.

"You asked your question and you received an answer, Mr. Birdsong," the commissioner said. "We can manage without the theatrics. Proceed, please."

"Certainly, Mr. Chairman." Birdsong swung back to Eric Humphrey. "You did say two hundred and forty-five thousand dollars?"

"Yes, I did."

'Are there other compensations which go with being the big cheese (Laughter from the spectators.) "Excuse me-the chairman of a public utility? A personal limousine perhaps?"

Yes."

'Chauffeur-driven?"

'Yes."

'Plus a fat expense account?"

Humphrey said huffily, "I would not refer to it as fat."

"How about enormous?"

More laughter.

J. Eric Humphrey's intense displeasure was beginning to show. Essentially a high-level. administrator and in no way a rough-and-tumble fighter, he was ill-equipped to handle the flashy showmanship of Birdsong. He responded coldly, "My duties intervene certain expenses which I am permitted to charge to our company."

"I'll bet!"

O'Brien was halfway to his feet. The presiding commissioner waved him down and instructed, "Confine yourself to questions, Mr. Birdsong."

The huge bearded man grinned broadly. "Yessir!"

Seated in the public section, Nim fumed. Why didn't Humphrey answer bluntly, aggressively, as he could and should? My salary, Mr. Birdsong, is a matter of public record since it is reported to regulatory agencies and the information is easily available. I am certain that you knew it before asking the question; therefore your show of surprise was phony and deceitful. Furthermore, the salary is not out of line for the chairman and chief executive of one of the nation's largest corporations; in fact, it is smaller than in most other companies of comparable size.

One reason for the level of my salary is that industrial organizations like GSP & L are a-ware they must be competitive in recruiting and retaining executive talent. To be specific: My own experience and qualifications would certainly earn me an equal or larger salary elsewhere. You may not wholly like that system, Mr. Birdsong, but while we remain a free enterprise society, that is the way it is. As to a chauffeur-driven car, this was offered to me at the time of my employment on the same competitive basis as salary, and also on the assumption that a chief executive's time and energies are more valuable than the cost of such a car and driver. One more point about that car: Like other busy executives I am accustomed to work in it on my way from one place to another and seldom relax there. Finally, if the company's directors and shareholders are dissatisfied with my performance in return for money paid, they have power to remove me . . .

But no! Nim thought glumly: the soft approach, excessive worrying about an elusive public image, pussyfooting, never standing up to the Birdsongs of the world by employing their own tough tactics in reverse -all these were the order of the day. This day and other days to come.

It was the second day of bearings on the license application for Tunipah, first stage. The preceding day had been filled by formalities, including submission by counsel for GSP & L of a mammoth 500-page "Notice of Intention" (350 copies printed), the first of many similar documents to come. As O'Brien put it sardonically: "By the time we're through we'll have caused to be chopped down a forest of trees to make the paper we shall use which, put together, could fill a library or sink a ship."

Earlier today, J. Eric Humphrey was summoned as the applicant's first witness.

O'Brien had led the utility's chairman quickly through a recital of the need for Tunipah and the site's advantages-the promised "brief appearance." then there had been a more lengthy questioning by counsel for the commission, who was followed by Roderick Pritchett, manager-secretary of the Sequoia Club. Both cross-examinations, while occupying more than an hour each, were constructive and low-key. Davey Birdsong, however, who was next and appeared for p & lfp, had already enlivened the proceedings, clearly to the delight of supporters in the audience.

"Now then, Mr. Humphrey," he continued, "I -guess you wake up in the morning figuring you have to do something to justify that enormous salary of yours. Is that right?"

O'Brien called out promptly, "I object!"

"Sustained," the commissioner pronounced.

Birdsong was unperturbed. "I'll ask it another way. Do you feel, as the main part of your job, Eric baby, that you have to keep dreaming up schemes-like this Tunipah deal-which will make huge profits for your company?"

"Objection!"

Birdsong swung toward the GSP & L counsel. "Why don't you have a tape made? then you could press a button without opening your mouth."

There was laughter and some scattered applause. At the same time the young commissioner leaned over to confer with a second man seated beside bim-an elderly administrative law judge, a civil servant with long experience in the type of hearing being conducted. As he spoke softly, the older man could be seen to shake his head.

"Objection denied," the commissioner announced, then added, "We allow considerable latitude at these hearings, Mr. Birdsong, but you will please address all witnesses with respect, using their correct names, not as"-be tried to suppress a smile but was unsuccessful-"sport or Eric baby. Another point: We would like some assurance that your line of questioning is relevant."

"Oh, it's relevant all right! It's really relevant." Birdsong's answer was expansive. 'nen, as if changing gears, he slipped into the role of supplicant. "But please realize, Mr. Chairman, I'm just a simple person, representing humble people, not an important, fancy lawyer like old Oscar baby here." He pointed to O'Brien. "So if I'm awkward, overfriendly, make mistakes . . ."

The commissioner sighed. "Just get on. Please!"

"Yessir! Certainly, sir!" Birdsong swung toward Humphrey. "You beard the man! You're wasting the commissioner's time. Now quit futzing around and answer the question."

O'Brien interjected, "What question? I'll be darned if I remember it. I'm sure the witness can't."

The commissioner instructed, "The reporter will read the question back."

The proceedings halted and those on hard chairs and benches shifted, making themselves more comfortable while a male stenotypist, who was keeping the official commission record, flipped back through the folded tape of his notes. At the rear of the room several newcomers slipped in as others left. As those participating knew, in months and years to come, long before any decision was reached, this scene and sequence- would be repeated countless times.