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one law for the big cheese, now another law for the little guy -your

friend's father. Right?"

Nim nodded. "Yes, I was thinking pretty much along those lines."

"Well, you're right. That's the way it is, and I've seen it happen at other

times, in other places. The privileged, the powerful, those with money, can

bend the law or get themselves a better deal. Oh, not always, but often

enough to make justice unequal. But that's the way

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the system works, and while I may not like it, I didn't make it. However,

I'll also tell you this: If I'd had the solid evidence against Mr. justice

Yale that I have against Luther Sloan, I'd never have backed down the way

I did."

"Then there is strong evidence?"

London gave a twisted grin. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Okay, so tell me."

"Nim, in the Quayle setup, Luther Sloan was the gas man. They gave him

most of the illegal gas work which came their way, probably because be

was damn good at it. I've seen some of the jobs be did, and there were

plenty; we have details from the Quayle records and the goods on bim.

Something else: You talked just now about Sloan making restitution. Well,

as far as we can estimate, the illicit work be did has cost GSP & L, in

gas revenue losses, about two hundred and tbirt:y thousand dollars. And

from what you tell me, Sloan might not have that kind of dough."

Nim threw up his hands. "Okay, Harry. You win."

London shook his head slowly. "No, I don't. Nobody wins. Not me, not you,

not GSP & L, and certainly not Luther Sloan. I'm simply doing my job, the

way I'm supposed to."

"And doing it honestly," Nim said. "Maybe more so than the rest of

US."

Nim found himself regretting what had just passed between himself and

Harry London. He wondered if their friendship would ever be quite the

same again. He rather doubted it.

"Be seeing you, I guess," London said. He picked up the file he had

brought with him, and left.

Nim supposed he would have to call Karen and deliver the bad news. He

dreaded doing it. However, before he could pick up the telephone, his

office door flew open and Ray Paulsen strode in.

The executive vice president of power supply asked brusquely, "Where's

the chairman?"

"He had a dental appointment," Nim said. "Anything I can do for you?"

Paulsen ignored Nim's question. "When will be be back?"

Nim checked his watch. "I'd say in an hour."

Paulsen looked weary and haggard, Nim thought, his shoulders more stooped

than usual, his hair and beetling eyebrows grayer than a month ago. It

was not surprising. They bad all been under strain-Ray Paulsen, because

of his large responsibilities, as much as anyone.

"Ray," Nim said, "if you'll excuse me for saying so, you look like bell.

Why not take it easy for a few minutes? Sit down, switch off, and I'll

send for coffee."

Paulsen glared and appeared on the point of answering angrily.

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Then, abruptly, his expression changed. Dropping heavily into a soft

leather chair, he said, "Do that."

Nim buzzed Vicki on the intercom and ordered coffee for them both,

Afterward he went around the desk and took a chair near Paulsen.

"You might as well know what I came to tell the chairman," Paulsen

growled. "We've lost Big Lil."

Niin's calm deserted him. "We've what?"

Paulsen snapped, "You heard me the first time."

"We've lost Big Lill" Nim repeated. "For how long?"

"At least four months. More likely six."

There was a knock and Vicki came in with two mugs of coffee. While she

set them on a table, Nim stood up and began pacing restlessly. Now he

could understand Paulsen's distress, and share it. Big Lil, ~a Mission

No. 5, the largest single generator in the system, supplied a massive

million and a quarter kilowatts, equal to six percent of GSP & L's

maximum load. At any time the sudden loss of Big Lil would create major

problems, as was demonstrated after the bombing last July. In the present

circumstances it was calamitous.

"People!" Paulsen exploded. "Son-of-a-bitcbing, stupid people! You think

you have it all figured, spell out every procedure clearly, then some

incompetent clown lets you down." He reached for a coffee mug and drank.

Nim asked, "What happened?"

"We've had Big Lil off the line for a week for routine maintenance,"

Paulsen said. "You knew that."

"Yes. It was due back on line today."

"So it would have been. Except for a dairm fool operator." Paulsen

slammed a fist into his palm. "I could skin the bastard alive."

Angrily, gloomily, he spelled out the sorry details.

When a huge, steam-powered, oil-fueled generator like Big Lil was started

up, procedures were elaborate and precise. An operator, working in a

control room with a multitude of instruments to guide him, was trained

to follow instructions carefully, step by step. A printed checklist was

provided, undue haste forbidden. Normally, the entire process took

several hours.

With Big Lil, as with any similar type generator, the boiler which

provided steam was activated first. Projecting into the boiler, at

various heights, were rings of oil guns-burners which sprayed atomized

fuel. These were ignited remotely by the control room operator, level by

level, starting at the bottom, For safety reasons, before a higher level

was ignited, the level below it had to be burning.

Today, the opera tor-failing to check his instruments-thought the lowest

level of oil guns was alight. It wasn't.

As succeeding levels of burners came on, the lowest level continued

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to pour out unburned oil which pooled at the bottom of the boiler.

Eventually the accumulated oil and vapor exploded.

"I thought there was a safety interlock . . ." Nim began.

"Hell!-of course there is." Paulsen sounded as if he were about to weep.

"It's designed to prevent exactly what happened. But-can you believe

tbis?-the damn fool operator overrode it manually. Said he wanted to bring

the unit on line faster."

"Jesus Christ!" Nim could understand Paulsen's anger and frustration. He

asked, "How much damage did the explosion do?"

"Plenty-to the internal boiler structure, much of the duct and flue work,

more than half the water-wall tubes."

Nim whistled softly. He felt sympathy for Paulsen, but knew that words

would do no good. He also realized that a four-month estimate for repairs

was optimistic.

"This changes everything, Ray," Nim said, "especially about rolling

blackouts."

"Don't I know it!"

Mentally, Nim was running over problems and logistics. Although Big Lil was

an oil burner and eventually could fall victim to the OPEC embargo, it was

by far the most economical oil-fueled generator the utility had. Now, Big

Lil's output would have to be made up by other units which would use more

fuel. Therefore, suddenly, GSP&L's total oil reserves represented a great

deal less electric power than before.

Thus it followed, even more than previously: All oil stocks must be used

cagily, rationed strictly.

"Blackouts should start within the next few days," Nim said.

Paulsen nodded. "I agree." He got up to go.

"Ray," Nim said, "I'll let you know as soon as the chairman comes in."

"My recommendation," Nim said at a hastily called conference on Friday

afternoon, "is that we begin blackouts on Monday."

Teresa Van Buren protested, "It's too soon! We've already announced they

won't begin until the week after next. Now you're saying you'd advance that

ten days. We've got to give the public more warning.,,

"Warning be damned!" Paulsen snapped. "This is a crisis."

With wry amusement, Nim thought: For once he and Paulsen were in agreement,

ranged against the others.

There were five of them, seated around a conference table in the chairman's

office suite-J. Eric Humphrey, Paulsen, Van Buren, Nim and Oscar O'Brien.

The general counsel bad been called in to consider any legal implications

of the blackouts.

Prior to this conference, Nim had had several meetings with depart-

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ment heads to review the latest figures on GSP&L's oil stocks. They showed

supplies were diminishing faster than anticipated, probably due to

unseasonably warm weather and heavy use of air-conditioners.

Nim had also telephoned a Washington, D.C., lawyer-lobbyist who

represented GSP & L on Capitol Hill. His report was: No breakthrough, or

any sign of one, in the United States-OPEC deadlock. The lawver added,

"There's talk around here of plans to issue a new currency-an external,

gold-backed dollar to satisfy OPEC. But it's talk, no more, and not

enough to get the oil moving."

Niin had passed on the Washington report to the chairman and the others.

"I agree with Tess," Oscar O'Brien said, "that we ought to give as much

advance warning about blackouts as we can."

Eric Humphrey queried, "Suppose we hold off until next Wednesday and

start the blackouts then? That's five days from now, which should give

people time to prepare."

After more discussion they agreed on Wednesday.

"I'll call a press conference immediately," Van Buren said. She addressed

Nun. "Can you be available in an hour?"

He nodded. "Yes."

The remainder of the day proceeded at the same frenetic pace.

Amid the rush of decision-making and conferences, Nim postponed his

intended call to Karen, and it was not until late Friday afternoon that

lie found time to phone her.

Josie answered first, then Karen came on the line. He knew she would be

wearing the special lightweight headband, earpiece and microphone which,

with a microswitch close to her head, enabled her to use the telephone

without assistance if she wished. By arrangement with the phone company,

Karen was able to reach an operator directly and have any number dialed

for her.

"Karen," Nim said, "I'm calling about your father. I made some inquiries

to see if there was anything I could do, but I have to tell vou that

there isn't. What's happening has gone too far." He added, hoping it

would not sound banal, "I'm sorry."

"So am I," Karen said, and be sensed her dejection. "But I'm grateful to

you for trying, Nimrod."

"The only advice I can give," be told her, "is that your father get

himself a good lawyer."

There was a silence, then she asked, "Is it really that bad?"

There seemed no point in lying. "Yes, I'm afraid it is." Nim decided not

to pass along Harry London's statement that a criminal charge would be

laid within the next few days, or London's estimate of a two-

hundred-and-tliirty-thousand-dollar loss to GSP & L. Both items of news

would be known soon enough.

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"The strange thin,,- is," Karen said, "I've always thought of Daddy as

the most honest person I know."

"Well," Nim acknowledged, "I'm not making excuses for your father. I

can't. But I guess, sometimes, there are pressures which do strange