Arthur Hailey - Overload

"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.

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 . . ."