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J. Eric Humphrey-on the suggestion that profit, and nothing else, was the

motive behind Tunipab; also that consumers would foot the bill and

receive nothing or little in return. What angered Nim, beneath the

unruffled surface be struggled to maintain, was that not once were the

major, important issues-future power requirements based on growth,

industry economics, maintenance of living standards-touched on. Populist

froth was being paraded; nothing more. But it would gain attention.

Activity at the press table made that clear.

Nim also admitted to himself that the two-pronged attack-the Sequoia Club

emphasizing environmental issues and the p & lfp dwelling on rates and

finance, however superficially-was effective. He wondered if there bad

been liaison between the two groups, though he doubted it. Laura Bo

Carmichael and Davey Birdsong were on different intellectual planes. Nim

still respected Laura Bo, despite their differences, but he despised

Birdsong as a charlatan.

During a short recess, after Birdsong had concluded his questioning,

Oscar O'Brien warned Nim, "You're not through yet. After the other

witnesses I'll want you back on the stand for redirect, and when I've

finished the other people can have at you again if they want." Nim gri-

maced, wishing his part were over, thankful that it would be soon.

Laura Bo Carmichael was next on the stand.

Despite her small, slight figure, the Sequoia Club chairman occupied the

witness chair with grande dame demeanor, She was wearing a severe,

tailored suit of beige gabardine and, as usual, her graying hair was cut

severely short. She wore no ornamentation or jewelry. Her manner was

serious. Her voice, as she responded to questions put to her by Roderick

Pritchett, was crisp and authoritative.

"We have heard stated in previous testimony, Mrs. Carmichael," Pritchett

began, "that a public need for more electrical power justifies building

a coal-powered generating plant in the Tunipah area. Is that your

opinion?"

"No, it is not."

"Will you explain to the commissioners your reasons-and those of the

Sequoia Club-for opposing that construction?"

"Tunipah is one of the few, the very few, remaining natural wilderness

areas in California. It abounds with treasures of nature-trees, plants,

flowers, streams, unique geologic formations, animal, bird and insect

life, some of those features representing strains which have become

extinct elsewhere. The region is, above all, magnificently beauti-

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ful. To despoil it with a huge, ugly, high-polluting industrial plant, serv-

iced by a new railroad-itself polluting and intrusive-would be sacrilegious,

an ecological stride backward to the last century, a blasphemy against God

and nature."

Laura Bo had spoken calmly, without raising her voice, which made her

statement more impressive. Pritchett paused before his next question,

allowing the impact of her words to sink in.

"The spokesman for Golden State Power & Light Mr. Goldman," Pritchett said,

"has assured the commission that disturbance of the natural state of

Tunipah would be minimal. Would you care to comment on that?"

"I have known Mr. Goldman for a number of years," Laura Bo responded. "He

means well. He may even believe what he says. But the truth is: No one can

build any kind of a plant at Tunipah without doing tremendous, irreversible

environmental damage."

The Sequoia Club manager-secretary smiled. "Am I correct in my impression,

Mrs. Carmichael, that you do not really trust GSP&L where that 'minimal

damage' promise is concerned?"

"Yes, you are-even if that promise could be fulfilled, which it cannot."

Laura Bo turned her head, directly addressing the two occupants of the

bench who had been listening intently. "In the past, Golden State Power and

most other industrial companies have proven themselves untrustworthy where

environmental choices were concerned. When they were left alone they

poisoned our air and water, plundered our forests, squandered mineral

resources, scarred our landscapes. Now that we live in another era, where

these sins are recognized, they tell us: Trust us. Our past mill not repeat

itself. Well, 1, and many others, do not trust them-in Tunipah or anywhere

else."

Listening, Nim thought: There was a compelling logic to what Laura Bo was

saying. He could, and did, dispute her view of the future; Nim believed

that GSP & L and other organizations like it had absorbed the lessons of

old mistakes, and had learned to be good ecological citizens, if for no

other reason than that nowadays it was simply good business. However, no

fair-minded person could argue with Laura Bo's assessment of the past.

Something else she had already done during her short time on the witness

stand, Nim decided, was raise the level of debate far above the

gallery-playing pettiness of Davey Birdsong.

"A few minutes ago," Pritchett said to Laura Bo, "you stated that some

strains of natural life at Tunipab have become extinct elsewhere. Will you

tell us what they are?"

The Sequoia Club chairman nodded. She said with authority, "There are two

that I know of: a wild flower, the Furbish lousewort, and the

Microdipodops, otherwise known as the kangaroo mouse."

Here is where we part company, Nim mused. He remembered his argument with

Laura Bo over lunch two months ago when he had ob-

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jected: "You'd let a mouse, or mice, prohibit a project which will benefit

millions of people?"

Evidently the same possibility had occurred to Roderick Pritchett because

his next question was: "Do you expect criticism on those two issues-tbe

Furbish lousewort and the Microdipodops? Do you expect people to say that

human beings and their desires are more important?"

"I expect a great deal of that kind of criticism, even abuse," Laura Bo

said. "But nothing changes the shortsightedness and folly of reducing, or

eliminating, any endangered species."

"Would you explain that a little more?"

"Yes. A principle is involved, a life-and-death principle which is re-

peatedly and thoughtlessly violated. As modern society has developedcities,

urban sprawl, industry, highways, pipelines, all the rest-we have upset the

balance of nature, destroyed plant life, natural watersheds and soil

fertility, banished wild creatures from their habitat or slaughtered them

en masse, disrupted normal growth cycles, all the while forgetting that

every intricate part of nature depends on all the other parts for

continuance and health."

From the bench the commissioner injected, "But surely, Mrs. Carmicbael,

even in nature there is flexibility."

"Some flexibility. But almost always it has been pushed beyond the limits."

The commissioner nodded politely. "Please proceed."

Her regal manner unruffled, Laura Bo continued, "The point I am making is

that past environmental decisions have been' based on shortterm expediency,

almost never a larger view. At the same time, modern science-and I speak as

a scientist myself-has operated in self-contained compartments, ignoring

the truth that 'progress' in one area may be harmful to life and nature as

a whole. Automobile emissions-a product of science-are a huge example, and

it is expediency which permits them to stay as lethal as they are. Another

example is the excessive use of pesticides which, in preserving certain

life forms, have wiped out many more. The same is true of atmospheric

damage from aerosol sprays. It is a long list. We have all been moving, and

still are, toward environmental suicide."

While the Sequoia Club chairman had been speaking, the hearing room had

hushed to a respectful silence. Now no one moved, waiting for her next

words.

"It is all expediency," she repeated, her voice rising for the first time.

"If this monstrous Tunipah development is allowed to proceed, expediency

will doom the Furbish lousewort and the Microdipodops, and much else

besides. Then, if the process continues, I foresee the day when a single

industrial project-just like Tunipab-will be ruled as more important than

the last remaining stand of daffodils."

The concluding words brought an outburst of applause from the

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spectator section. While it persisted, Nim thought angrily: Laura Bb was

using her stature as a scientist to mate a non-scientific, emotional appeal.

He went on seething for another hour as the questions and responses -in

similar vein-continued.

Oscar O'Brien's subsequent cross-examination of Laura Bo produced nothing

in the way of retraction and in some areas strengthened her earlier

testimony. When the GSP&L counsel inquired with a broad smile if she really

believed "that a few populated mouseholes and an unattractive wild

flower-almost a weed-are more important than the electrical needs of

several million humans," she replied tartly, "To ridicule is easy and

cheap, Mr. O'Brien, as well as being the oldest lawyer's tactic in the

book. I have already stated why the Sequoia Club believes Tunipah should

remain a natural wilderness area and the points which seem to amuse you are

two among many. As to the 'electrical needs' of which you speak, in the

opinion of many, the need for conservation, of making better use of what we

have, is a greater need by far."

O'Brien flushed and snapped back, "Since you know so much better than

experts who have investigated Tunipah, and find it an ideal site for what

is proposed, where would you build?"

Laura Bo said calmly, "That is your problem, not mine."

Davey Birdsong declined to cross-examine Laura Bo, stating grandiosely,

"Power & light for people supports the Sequoia Club view, so well expressed

by Mrs. Carmichael."

On the following day, as the last of several more opposition witnesses was

concluding, O'Brien whispered to Nim beside him, "Get yourself together.

You're on again next."

13

Nim felt jaded, anyway. The prospect of new testimony and additional

cross-examinations soured him still more.

He had slept only intermittently the night before and, when he did sleep,

dreamed he was in a cell-like enclosure, without door or windows, in which

all four walls comprised banks of circuit breakers. Nim was trying to keep

the circuit breakers switched on and current-which he knew was

needed-flowing. But Davey Birdsong, Laura Bo Carmichael and Roderick

Pritchett had him surrounded and were determinedly snapping the breakers

off. Nim wanted to shout at the others, to argue

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and plead, but his voice wouldn't work. In desperation he sought to move

faster. To offset their six hands against his two he tried kicking

switches with his feet. But his limbs resisted; they seemed encased in

glue and moved with maddening slowness. With despair Nim realized he was

losing, could not keep pace with the others, and soon all the switches

would be off. It was then he awoke, soaked in perspiration, and couldn't

sleep again.

Now, with Nim once more in the witness chair, the presiding commissioner