Ким Робинсон - Pacific Edge

“What mall? Look here, what are you talking about? We’re making an inquiry about the extra water MWD is offering, because it makes sense, it saves us money. That’s part of our job on the council. Now as to this other thing, if someone is exploring the possibilities of a multi-use center, what’s the problem? Are you saying we shouldn’t try to create jobs here in El Modena?”

“No!”

“Of course not. We need more jobs—El Modena is small, we don’t generate much income. If some businesses moved here everyone would benefit. You might not need your share increased, but other people do.”

“We already make enough from town shares.”

“Is that the Green position?”

“Well…”

“I didn’t think so. As I recall, you said increased efficiency would increase the shares.”

“So it would!”

Alfredo walked further down the drive, to the low mounds of an extensive cactus garden. Standing there they had a view over all of Orange County’s treetopped plain. “It gets to be a question of how we can become more efficient, doesn’t it. I don’t think we can do it without businesses to be efficient. But you—sometimes I think if you had your way you’d empty out the town and tear it down entirely.” He gestured at the cacti. “Back to mustard fields and scrub hills, and maybe a couple of camps down on the creek.”

“Come on,” Kevin said scornfully. In fact, he had quite often daydreamed about just such a return to nature when tearing old structures down. But he knew it was just a fantasy, a wish to live the Indians’ life, and he never mentioned it to others. It was disconcerting to hear Alfredo read his mind like that.

Alfredo saw his confusion. “You can only go so far with negative growth before it becomes harmful, Kevin. I realize there’s a lot of momentum in your direction these days, and believe me, I think it’s been a good thing. We needed it, and things are better now because of it. But any pendulum can swing too far, and you’re one of those trying to hold it out there when it wants to swing back. Now that you’re in a position of responsibility you’ve got to face it—the people who talked you into joining the council are extremists.”

“We’re talking about your company here,” Kevin said feebly.

“We are? Well heck, say that we are. At Heartech we make cardiovascular equipment and blood substitutes and related material. It helps everyone, especially the regions still dealing with hepatitis and malaria. You were in Tanzania for your work abroad, you’ve got to know the kind of help it does!”

“I know, I know.” Heartech was an important part of Orange County’s booming medtech industry, doing state-of-the-art work. It was right at the legal limits on company size; most of its long-time workers were hundreds, which meant that the company paid an enormous amount of money into Tustin’s town shares, which were then redistributed out among the town’s citizens, as part of their personal income. And Heartech helped a lot of liaison companies in Africa and Indonesia as well. No doubt about it, it was a good company, and Alfredo believed in it passionately. “Listen,” he said, “let’s follow this through. Don’t you think biotechnology is valuable work?”

“Of course,” Kevin said. “I use it every day.”

“And the medical aspects of it save lives every day.” “That’s true. Sure.”

“Now wouldn’t it be a good thing if El Modena contributed to that?”

“Yeah, it would. That would be great.”

Alfredo spread his hands, palms up.

They looked at cacti.

Kevin, beginning to feel the way he did when he rode the Mad Hatter’s Teacups in Disneyland, tried to gather his thoughts. “Actually, it seems to me it isn’t so important where it happens…” Ah yes: where. “I mean where exactly do you have in mind, Alfredo?”

“Where what? Sorry, I’ve lost track of what you’re talking about.”

“Well, if you’re thinking of building in the hills. Are you?”

“If there were people thinking about a development in the El Modena Hills, it would be a matter of attracting the best tenants possible. Things like that are important when you’re competing with places like Irvine.”

So he was thinking of the hills! “You should be mayor of Irvine,” Kevin said bitterly. “Irvine is just your style.”

“You mean they make money there? They attract business, they have big town shares?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s what our town council is for, right? I mean, there are people in this town who could use it, even if you can’t.”

“I’m not against the town shares growing!”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

Kevin exhaled noisily, frustrated. Feeling completely dizzy, he said, “Well—still—”

“So we should do what we can, right?”

“Yeah, sure—”

“I think we’re more in agreement than you realize, Kevin. You build things, I build things. It’s really the same thing.”

“Yeah, but, but if you’re tearing up wilderness!”

“Don’t worry about that. There isn’t any wilderness in El Modena in the first place, so don’t get too romantic about it. Besides, we’ll all be working out anything that happens here in the next couple of years, so we’ll bang out a consensus just like always. Don’t let your friends make you too paranoid about it.”

“My friends don’t make me paranoid. You make me paranoid.”

“I don’t appreciate that, Kevin. And it won’t help in the long run. Look, I build things to make money, and so do you. We’re in the same business, aren’t we? I mean, aren’t you in the construction business?”

“Yeah!”

Alfredo smiled. “Well, there you have it. We’ll work it out. Hey, I’ve got to get going—I’ve got a date—down in Irvine, in fact.” He winked, went into the house.

Ka… CHUNK.

Kevin faced the door, and after a moment’s thought he slammed his fist into his palm. “It’s completely different!” he shouted. “I do renovation!” Or else we tear down a structure and put another one in its place. And it always fits the land better. It’s entirely different!

But there was no one there to argue with.

He let out a long breath. “Shit.”

What had happened? Well, maybe Alfredo and his partners were planning a development. Maybe they weren’t. Maybe it was up in the hills. Maybe it wasn’t. He had learned that much.

He pulled his bike from the rack, observed his hands shaking. Alfredo was too much for him; try as he might, Alfredo could run rings around him. Chagrined at the realization, he turned the bike and headed downhill.

He needed help. Doris, Oscar, Oscar’s friend in Bishop; Jean and the Green party organization; Nadezhda. Perhaps even Ramona, somehow. He shied away from the thought—the implication that his dislike for Alfredo had non-political components—it was a political matter, nothing more!

And Tom.

Once home he went looking for Nadezhda. “Do you still want to meet my grandfather?”

Kevin’s grandfather lived in the back country, on a ridge in the broken hills north of Black Star Canyon. Kevin led Nadezhda and Doris up a poorly kept trail to his place, winding between sage and scrub oak and broken ribs of sandstone. Nadezhda was inquisitive about everything: plants, rocks, Tom’s livelihood. She had a beautiful low voice, and had learned her English in India, so that the musical lilt of the subcontinent filled all her sentences.

“Well, Tom takes his ten thousand and lets it go at that. He’s got a garden and some chickens, and he does some trapping and beekeeping and I don’t know what all. He really does keep to himself these days. Didn’t used to be that way.”