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our organization is fortunate in having national support, but we have

substantial expenses."

The big bearded man chuckled. "Not so many, though, that vou couldn't

spread some of that bread around to other groups-doing your kind of

work-which need it."

"We'll see. But," Mrs. Carmichael said firmly, "please don't assume we are

so nalve that you can come here posing as a poor relation, because we know

better." She consulted some notes she had not intended to use until later.

"We know, for example, that your p & lfp has some twenty-five thousand

members who pay three dollars a year each, collected by paid door-to-door

canvassers, which adds up to $75,000Out of that you pay yourself a salary

of $2o,ooo a year, plus unknown expenses."

"Fella hasta make a living."

"A remarkably good one, I'd say." Laura Bo continued reading. "In addition

there are your university lecture fees, another fixed salarv from an

activist training organization, and payment for articles you write, all of

which is believed to bring your personal income as a protester to $6o,ooo

a year."

Davey Birdsong, whose smile had grown broader while he listened, seemed not

in the least taken aback. He commented, "A right nifty job of research."

It was the Sequoia Club chairman's turn to smile. "We do have an excellent

research department here." She folded the notes and put thern away. "None

of the material I have quoted is for outside use, of course. It's merely to

make you aware of our awareness that professional pro-

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testers like you have a good thing going. That mutual knowledge will save

time when we get down to business."

A door opened quietly and a neat, elderly man with iron-gray hair and

rimless glasses entered the boardroom.

Laura Bo said, "Mr. Birdsong, I believe you know our manager-secretary, Mr.

Pritchett."

Davey Birdsong put out a large, meaty hand. "We met on the battlefield a

time or two. Hiya, Pritchy!"

When his band had been pumped vigorously the newcomer said drily, "I hadn't

considered environmental hearings to be battlefields, though I suppose they

could be construed that way."

"Damn right, Pritchy! And when I go into battle, especially against the

people's enemy, Golden State Power, I fire every big gun and keep on

firing. Tough 'n' tougher, that's the prescription. Oh, I'm not saying

there isn't a place for your kind of opposition. There is!-you people bring

a touch of class. I'm the one, though, who makes headlines and gets on TV

news. By the way, did you kids see me on TV with that GSP & L prick,

Goldman?"

"The Good Evening Show," the manager-secretary acknowledged. "Yes, I did.

I thought you were colorful, tbough-to be objectiveGoldman was shrewd in

resisting your baiting." Pritchett removed his glasses to polish them.

"Perhaps, as you say, there is a place for your kind of opposition to GSP

& L. Possibly, even, we need each other."

"Attaboy, Pritchyl"

"The correct pronunciation is Pritchett. Or, if you prefer, you may call me

Roderick."

"I'll make a note of that, Roddy old man." Grinning broadly at Laura Bo,

Birdsong went through his notebook routine once more.

While they were talking two others had come in. Laura Bo Carmichael

introduced them as Irwin Saunders and Mrs. Priscilla Quinn, the remaining

members of the Sequoia Club executive committee. Saunders was a balding,

gravel-voiced lawyer who handled big-name divorce cases and was frequently

in the news. Mrs. Quinn, fashionably dressed and attractive in her late

forties, was the wife of a wealthy banker and noted for her civic zeal,

also for limiting her friendships to other wealthy or important people. She

accepted Davey Birdsong's outstretched band with reluctance, regarding him

with a mixture of curiosity and distaste.

The chairman suggested, "I think we might all be seated and get on with

business."

The five grouped themselves near one end of a long mahogany table, Laura Bo

at the head.

"We are all concerned," she said, "about recent proposals of Golden State

Power & Light which the Sequoia Club has already decided would

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be harmful to the environment. We will actively oppose them at forthcoming

hearings."

Birdsong thumped the table loudly. "And I say: three bloody cheers for

the Sequoia mobl"

Irwin Saunders appeared amused. Mrs. Quinn raised her eyebrows.

"What Mr. Birdsong has suggested in connection with that opposition," the

chairman continued, "are certain liaison arrangements between our

organization and his. I'll ask him to describe them."

Attention swung to Davey Birdsong. For a moment he eyed the other four

amiably, one by one, then plunged into his presentation.

"The kind of opposition all of us are talking about is a war-with GSP &

L the enemy. To regard the scene otherwise would be to court defeat.

Therefore, just as in a war, an attack must be mounted on several

fronts."

Noticeably, Birdsong had shed his clown's veneer and the earlier

breeziness of language. He proceeded, "To carry the war simile a stage

furtber-as well as doing combat on specific issues, no opportunity should

be lost to snipe at GSP & L whenever such an opening occurs."

"Really," Mrs. Quinn injected, "I'm aware you advised us it was a simile,

but I find this talk of war distasteful. After all . . ."

The lawyer, Saunders, reached out to touch her arm. "Priscilla, why not

let him finish?"

She shrugged. "Very well."

"Causes are often lost, Mrs. Quinn," Birdsong declared, "because of too

much softness, an unwillingness to face the hard nub of reality."

Saunders nodded. "A valid point."

"Let's get to specifics," Pritchett, the manager-secretary, urged. "Mr.

Birdsong, you referred to 'several fronts! Precisely which?"

"Right!" Birdsong became businesslike again. "Fronts one, two and

tbree-the public bearings on the announced plans for Tunipah, Fincastle

Valley and Devil's Gate. You people will fight on all of them. So will

my gallant p & lfp."

"As a matter of interest," Laura Bo inquired, "on what grounds will you

oppose?"

"Not sure yet, but don't worry. Between now and then we'll think of

something."

Mrs. Quinn seemed shocked. Irwin Saunders smiled.

"Then there are the rate hearings; that's front number four. Any time

there's a proposal for increased utility rates, p&lfp will oppose them

fiercely, as we did last time. With success, I might add."

"What success?" Roderick Pritchett asked. "So far as I know, a decision

hasn't been announced."

"You're right, it hasn't." Birdsong smiled knowingly. "But -1 have

friends at the PUG, and I know wh;t's coming out oi -there in two or

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three days-an announcement which will be a kick in the crotch to GSP & L."

Pritchett asked curiously, "Does the utility know yet?"

"I doubt it."

Laura Bo Carmichael said, "Let's get on."

"Ile fifth front," Birdsong said, "and a mighty important one, is the

annual meeting of Golden State Power & Light which takes place two and a

half weeks from now. I have some plans for that, though I'd be glad if you

didn't ask me too much about them."

"You're implying," Saunders said, "that we'd be better off not knowing."

"Exactly, counselor."

"T'hen what," Laura Bo asked, "is all this talk of liaison about?"

Birdsong grinned as be rubbed a thumb and two fingers together sug-

gestively. "This kind of liaison. Money."

"I thought we'd get to that," Pritchett said.

"Something else about our warking together," Birdsong told the Sequoia

group. "It would be better if it wasn't out in the open. It should be

confidential, entre nous."

"Then in what possible way," Mrs. Quinn asked, "would the Sequoia Club

benefit?"

Irwin Saunders said, "I can answer that. The fact is, Priscilla, anything

which damages the image of GSP & L, in any area, is likely to diminish

their strength and success in others." He smiled. "It's a tactic which

lawyers have been known to use."

"Why do you need money?" Pritchett asked Birdsong. "And what sum are we

talking about?"

"We need it because p & lfp alone cannot afford all the preparation and

people which are necessary if our combined opposition-on the table and

under it-is to be effective." Birdsong turned directly to the chairman. "As

you pointed out, we have resources of our own, but not nearly enough for a

project of this size." His glance returned to the others. "The amount I'm

suggesting the Sequoia Club contribute is fifty thousand dollars in two

installments."

Ile manager-secretary removed his glasses and inspected them for clarity.

"You certainly don't think small."

"No, and neither should you, considering what's at stake-in your case a

possible major impact on the environment."

"What bothers me in all of this," Mrs. Quinn observed, "are certain

implications of gutter fighting which I do not care for."

Laura Bo Carmichael nodded. "I have precisely the same feeling."

Again it was the lawyer, Saunders, who interceded.

"Certain facts of life," he told his colleagues, "ought to be faced. In

opposing these latest projects of Golden State Power-Tunipah, log

Fincastle, Devil's Gate-the Sequoia Club will present what we know to be

reasoned arguments. However, remembering the climate of the times and

misguided demands for more and more energy, reason and rationale are not

certain to prevail. So what else do we do? I say we need another element-an

ally that is more aggressive, more flamboyant, more calculated to excite

public attention which, in turn, will influence the regulators who are only

politicians once removed. In my view Mr. Birdsong and his

whatever-he-calls-it group . . ."

"Power & light for people," Birdsong interjected.

Saunders waved a hand as if the detail were unimportant. "Both ahead of

those hearings, and at them, he'll add that missing element we lack."

"TV and the press love me," Birdsong said. "I give them a show, something

to leaven and liven their stories. Because of that, anything I say gets

printed and is put on the air."

"That's true," the manager-secretary affirmed. "Even some outrageous

statements of his have been used by the media while they've omitted our

comments and those of GSP & L."

The chairman asked him, "Am I to assume you are in favor of what's

proposed?"

"Yes, I am," Pritchett said. "There is one assurance, though, I'd like from

Mr. Birdsong, namely that whatever his group does, no violence or

intimidation will be countenanced."

The boardroom table quivered as Birdsong's hand slammed down. "Assurance

given! My group despises violence of any kind. We have issued statements

saying so."

"I'm glad to hear it," Pritchett acknowledged, "and the Sequoia Club, of

course, shares that view. By the way, I presume everyone saw the report, in