The oak-paneled hearing chamber was -in a twelve-story building-near the city's center, occupied by the California Energy Commission, which was conducting the present series of bearings. Directly across the street was the building of the California Public Utilities Commission, which would later conduct its own hearings on Tunipah, in large part repetitious. Competition and jealousy between the two separate commissions were intense and, at times, took on an Alice-in-Wonderland quality.

Two additional state agencies would also get into the act soon and conduct hearings of their own; these were the California Water Quality Resources Board and the Air Resources Board. Each of the four government bodies would receive all reports and other papers generated by the remaining three, most of which they would ignore.

Then, at lower level, it was necessary to satisfy an Air Pollution Control District which might impose restrictions even more severe than those of the state agencies.

As O'Brien put it privately, "No one who isn't directly intervened would ever believe the incredible duplication and futility. We who participate, and those who set up this crazy system, should be certified as lunatics.

It would be far cheaper for the public purse, and more efficient, if we were locked up in asylums."

The stenotypist was concluding, schemes-like this Tunipah deal-which will make huge profits for your company?"

"The objective of Tunipah," Humphrey responded, "is to provide service to our customers and the community generally, as we always have, by anticipating increased demands for electricity. Profit is secondary."

"But there will be profits," Birdsong persisted.

"Naturally. We are a public company with obligations to investors . . ."

"Big profits? Profits in the millions?"

"Because of the enormous size of the undertaking and the huge investment, there will be issues of stocks and bonds, which could not be sold to investors unless . . ."

Birdsong cut in sharply, "Answer 'yes' or 'no.' Will there be profits in the millions?"

The GSP & L chairman flushed. "Probably-yes."

Once more his tormentor rocked back and forth on his heels. "So we only have your word, Mr. Humphrey, about whether profits or service comes first-the word of a person who, if this monstrous Tunipah fraud is foisted on the public, stands to profit in every possible way."

"Objection," O'Brien said wearily. "That is not a question. It is a prejudicial, inflammatory, unsubstantiated statement."

"So many big words!-okay, I withdraw it," Birdsong volunteered before the commissioner could rule. He grinned. "I guess my honest feelings got the better of me."

O'Brien looked as if he would object again, then decided not.

As Birdsong and others were well aware, the last exchange would be in the record, despite withdrawal. Also, reporters at the press table had 1their heads down and were writing busily-something they were not doing earlier.

Still observing from his spectator's seat, Nim thought: No doubt Davey Birdsong's comments would be featured in reports next day because the p & lfp leader was, as usual, making colorful copy.

Among the press group Nim could see the black reporter, Nancy Molineaux.

She had been watching Birdsong intently, not writing but sitting upright and unmoving; the pose emphasized her high cheekbones, the handsome if forbidding face, her slim, willowy body. Her expression was thoughtful. Nim guessed that she too was appreciating Birdsong's performance.

Earlier today Ms. Molineaux and Nim had passed each other briefly outside the bearing room. When he nodded curtly she raised an eyebrow and gave him a mocking smile.

Birdsong resumed his questioning. "Tell me, Eric old pal . . . oops, pardon me!-Mister Humphrey-have you ever heard of conservation?"

"Of course."

"Are you aware there is a widespread belief that projects like Tunipah would not be needed if you people got behind conservation seriously? I mean, not just played at conservation in a token way, but sold it-with the same bard sell you're using right now in trying for permission to build more plants to make fatter and fatter profits?"

O'Brien was halfway to his feet when Humphrey said, "I'll answer that." the lawyer subsided.

"In the first place, at Golden State Power & Light we do not try to sell more electricity; we used to, but we haven't done that kind of selling in a long time. Instead we urge conservation-very seriously. But conservation, while helping, will never eliminate steady growth in electrical demand, which is why we require Tunipah."

Birdsong prompted, "And that's your opinion?"

"Naturally it's my opinion."

"The same kind of prejudiced opinion which asked us to believe you don't care whether Tunipah makes a profit or not?"

O'Brien objected. "That's a misrepresentation. The witness did not say he didn't care about profit."

"I'll concede that." Abruptly Birdsong swung to face O'Brien, his body seeming to expand as his voice rose. "We know all of you at Golden State care about profits-big, fat, gross, extortionate profits at the expense of small consumers, the decent working people of this state who pay their bills and will be stuck with the cost of Tunipah if . . ."

The remainder of the words were drowned in cheers, applause and foot-stomping from the spectators. amid it all, the commissioner banged his gavel, calling, "Order! Order!"

A man who had joined in the cheering and was seated next to Nim 1observed Nim's silence. He inquired belligerently, "Don't you care, buster?"

"Yes," Nim said. "I care."

Nim realized that if this were a regular court proceeding the chances were that Birdsong would long since have been cited for contempt. But he wouldn't be, now or later, because the courtroom setting was a facade.

Hearings of this kind were allowed, deliberately, to operate loosely with occasional disorders tolerated. Oscar O'Brien had explained the reasons at one of his advance briefings.

"Public commissions nowadays are seared shitless that if they don't allow all and sundry to have an unrestricted chance to say their piece, later there could be challenges in the courts on grounds that significant evidence was quashed. If that happened it might mean an overturned decision, undoing years of work because some nut was ordered to shut up or a minor argument disallowed. No one wants that-including us. So, by general consent, the demagogues and kooks et al are given their head along with all the time they want. It makes for dragged out bearings but in the end is probably shorter."

That, Nim knew, was why the experienced administrative law judge had shaken his head a few moments ago, advising the young commissioner not to disallow Birdsong's disputed question.

Something else O'Brien had explained was that lawyers like himself, who were intervened on behalf of applicants, raised fewer objections at this type of hearing than they would in court. "We save them for something that's outrageously wrong and ought to be corrected in the record." Nim suspected that O'Brien's objections during J. Eric Humphrey's cross-examination by Birdsong were mostly to mollify Humphrey, O'Brien's boss, who had been reluctant to make this appearance anyway.

Nim was sure that when his own turn came to testify and be cross-examined, O'Brien would leave him pretty much to fend for himself.

"Let's get back," Davey Birdsong was continuing, "to those huge profits we were talking about. Now take the effect on consumers' monthly bills. . ."

For another half hour the p & lfp leader continued his interrogation. He employed leading, loaded questions unsubstantiated by facts, interrupted by clowning, but hammering home his contention that profits from Tunipah would be excessive and were the major motivation. Nim conceded mentally: While the charge was false, the Goebbels-type repetition was effective.

Undoubtedly it would receive prominence in the media, and probably credence, which clearly was among Birdsong's objectives.

"Thank you, Mr. Humphrey," the commissioner said when the GSP & L chairman stepped down from the witness stand. Eric Humphrey nodded an acknowledgment, then departed with evident relief.

Two other GSP & L witnesses followed. Both were specialist engineers.

Their testimony and cross-examination were uneventful but occupied two full days, after which the hearing was adjourned until Monday of the following week. Nim, who would have the burden of presenting the main thrust of GSP & L's case, would be next on the witness stand when proceedings resumed.

9.

Three weeks ago, when Ruth Goldman startled Nim by announcing her intention to leave home for a while, he considered it likely she would change her mind. However, Ruth hadn't. Now, on Friday evening, during the weekend recess of the Tunipah hearings, Nim found himself alone in their house, Leah and Benjy having been taken by Ruth to their grandparents across town before her departure. The arrangement was that both children would remain with the Neubergers until Ruth's return, whenever that might be.

Ruth had been vague about that, just as she had declined to say where she was going, or with whom. "Probably it will be two weeks, though it may be less or more," she had told Nim several days ago.

But there was nothing vague about her attitude toward him; it had been cool and definite. It was, he thought, as if she had reached decisions within herself and all that remained was to implement them. What the decisions were, and how he would be affected, Nim had no idea. At first be told himself he should care, but was saddened to find he didn't. At least, not much. That was why he had raised no protest when Ruth told him her plans were complete and she would be leaving at the end of the week.

It was uncharacteristic, Nim realized, for him merely to "go along" and let things drift. By nature he was accustomed to make decisions promptly and to plan ahead: that ability, applied to his work, had earned him recognition and advancement. But where his marriage was concerned he still had a curious reluctance to move, perhaps to face reality. He was leaving it all to Ruth. If she chose to leave permanently and afterward seek a divorce, which seemed the natural sequence, he would be disinclined to fight or even try to dissuade her. However, he would not take the step himself. Not yet.

He had asked Ruth only yesterday if she was ready to discuss their situation, remembering her words: ". . . you and I have only been going through the motions of being married. We haven't talked about it. But I think we should. . . Perhaps when I come back."

Why wait? Nim reasoned.

But she had answered in a businesslike tone, "No, I'll tell you when I'm ready." And that had been the end of it.

Leah and Benjy entered frequently into Nim's thoughts along with the possibility of divorce. Both children, he knew, would be devastated by the idea, and he was saddened at the thought of them being hurt. But the fact was, children survived divorces and Nim had observed many who accepted a divorce in the family as a simple facet of life. Nor would there be difficulty about Nim and Leah and Benjy spending time together. He might even end up seeing more of both children than he did now. It had happened to other estranged fathers.

But all that must await Ruth's return, he reflected, as he roamed the empty house on Friday evening.

A half hour ago he had telephoned Leah and Benjy, plowing through the objections of Aaron Neuberger, who didn't like his telephone to be used, except for emergencies, on the Sabbath. Nim had let the phone ring and ring until his father-in-law gave in and answered. "I want to talk to my kids," Nim insisted bluntly, "and I don't care if it's Mickey Mouse Tuesday."

When Leah came on the line a few minutes later she reproached him gently.

"Daddy, you've upset Grandfather."

Nim had felt like saying Good! but wisely didn't, and they talked about school, a forthcoming swim meet and ballet class. No mention of Ruth. He sensed that Leah knew something was wrong but was uneasy about asking or knowing.

His conversation with Benjy, which followed, revived the irritation Nim frequently felt about his in-laws.

"Dad," Benjy had said, "am I going to have a bar mitzvah? Grandfather said I have to. And Grandmother says if I don't I'll never be a real Jewish man."

Confound those interfering Neubergers! Couldn't they just be loving grandparents, taking care of Leah and Benjy for a couple of weeks, without grabbing the chance to inject propaganda into the children? It was almost indecent to start working on them with such baste, as well as intruding on the rights of Nim and Ruth as parents. Nim had wanted to bring up that subject himself with Benjy, talking it over quietly, intelligently, man-to-man, not have it sprung on him suddenly like this.

Well, an inner voice inquired, why didn't you do it? there's been plenty of time. If you had, you wouldn't be wondering right now how to respond to Benjy's question.

Nim said sharply, "No one has to have a bar mitzvah. I didn't. And what your grandmother said is nonsense."

"Grandfather says there's a lot I'll have to learn." Benjy still sounded doubtful. "He said I ought to have started a long time ago."

Was there an accusation in Benjy's small precise voice? It was entirely possible-in fact, probable-Nim thought, that Benjy at ten understood a great deal more than his elders assumed. Therefore did Benjy's questions now reflect the same instinctive search for identification with his ancestry which Nim had been aware of in himself, and had subdued, though not entirely? He wasn't sure. Nothing, however, lessened Nim's anger at the way all this had surfaced, though he curbed another sharp answer, knowing it would do harm, -not good.

"Look, son, what you said just now simply isn't true. If we decide you should be barmitzvahed there's plenty of time. You have to realize your grandparents have some views which your mother and I don't agree with."

Nim wasn't sure how true that was of Ruth, but she wasn't around to contradict. He went on, "As soon as your mother is back, and you come home, we'll talk all this over. Okay?"

Benjy had said "okay" a touch reluctantly and Nim realized he must keep his promise or lose credibility with his son. He considered the idea of flying his father in from New York and having him stay for a while, which would expose Benjy to a counterbalancing influence. Old Isaac Goldman, while frail and in his eighties, was still acid, cynical and biting about Judaism and enjoyed slamming haymakers into Orthodox Jewish arguments.

But no, Nim decided. That would be just as unfair as the Neubergers were being now.

After the phone call, and while mixing himself a scotch and water, Nim caught sight of a portrait of Ruth; it was in oils, painted several years ago. The artist had caught, with remarkable fidelity, Ruth's graceful beauty and serenity. He crossed to the painting and studied it. The face, especially the soft gray eyes, was exceptionally good; so was the hair-shiny black, neatly and impeccably arranged, as always. For the sittings Ruth had worn a strapless evening gown; the flesh tones of her graceful shoulders were uncannily real. There was even, on one shoulder, the small dark mole which she had had removed surgically soon after the portrait was done.

Nim's thoughts returned to Ruth's serenity; it was what the painting showed best. I could use some of that serenity right now, he thought, and wished he could talk to Ruth about Benjy and a bar mitzvah. Dammit! Where in hell has she gone for two weeks and who is the man? Nim was sure the Neubergers would have some idea. At the very least they would know where Ruth could be contacted; Nim knew his wife too well to believe she would cut herself off completely from the children. Equally certain: Her parents would be closemouthed about the arrangement. Tbe thought refueled the anger at his in-laws.

Following a second scotch and more perambulating, be returned to the telephone and dialed Harry London's home number. They hadn't talked in a week, which was unusual.

When London answered, Nim asked him, "Want to drive out to my house and booze a little?"

"Sorry, Nim; I'd like to, but I can't. Got a dinner date. Leaving here soon. Did you hear about the latest bombing?"

"No. When?"

"Happened an hour ago."

"Anyone hurt?"

"Not this time-but that's the only good part."

Two powerful bombs had been planted at a GSP & L suburban substation, Harry London reported. As a result more than six thousand homes in the area were now without electric power. Mobile transformers, mounted on flatbed trucks, were being rushed in, but it was unlikely that full service would be restored until tomorrow.

"'These crazies are getting smart," London said. "They're learning where we're vulnerable, and where to put their firecrackers to do the most damage."

"Do we know yet if it's the same group?"

"Yep. Friends of Freedom. They phoned Channel 5 News just before it happened, saying where it would happen. Too late to do anything, though. That makes eleven bombings we've had in two months. I just added up."

Knowing that London, while not directly intervened in the investigation, still had pipelines of information, Nim asked, "Have the police or FBI made any progress?"

"Nil. I said the people doing it are getting smart; so they are. It's a safe bet they study the targets before they hit, then decide where they can get in and out fast, unnoticed, and do the most damage. This Friends of Freedom mob know, just as we do, that we'd need an army to guard everything."

"And there haven't been clues?"

"Nil again. Remember what I said before? If the cops solve this one it'll be through a lucky break or because somebody got careless. Nim, it ain't the way it is on TV or in novels where crimes always get solved. In the real police world they often don't."

"I know that," Nim said, mildly irritated that London was slipping into his lecturer's role again.

"There is one thing, though," the Property Protection chief said thoughtfully.

"What's that?"

"For a while the bombings slowed down, almost stopped. Now suddenly they've perked up, making it look as if the people doing them have got a new source of explosives, or money, or both."

Nim pondered, then changed the subject. "What's new with theft of service?"

"Not a hell of a lot. Oh sure, we're working hard and catching some small fry. There's a couple dozen new cases of meter tampering we'll 1take to court. But it's like plugging a hundred leaks when you know there's ten thousand more out there if you just had the people and time to find 'em."

"How about that big office building? the one where you're keeping watch?"