Overload Read Free

wouldn't
    have been released."
    The chairman shook his head. He had heard enough. There would be time for
    inquests later. This was not the moment.
    Nim Goldman had been conferring at the dispatch console. Now, his forceful
    voice cutting clearly across others', he announced, "Load shedding will
    have to begin in half an hour. There's no longer any doubt. We'll have to."
    He glanced toward the chairman. "I think we should alert the media. TV and
    radio can still get warnings out."
    "Do it," Humphrey said. "And someone get me the Governor on the phone."
    "Yes, sir." An assistant dispatcher began dialing.
    Faces in the room were grim. In the utility's century-and-a-quarter history
    what was about to happen-intentional disruption of servicehad never
    occurred before.
    8
     

Nim Goldman was already telephoning Public Relations, over in another
    building. There would be no delay about warnings going out. The utility's
    p.r. department was geared to handle them; although, normally, the sequence
    of power cuts was known only to a few people within the company, now they
    would be made public. As another point of policy, a few months ago it had
    been decided that the cuts-if and when they happened-would be known as
    "rolling blackouts," a p.r. ploy to emphasize their temporary nature and
    the fact tbat all areas would be treated fairly. The phrase "rolling
    blackouts" was a young secretary's brainchild, after her older, more highly
    paid superiors failed to come up with anything acceptable. One of the
    rejects: "sequential curtailments."
    "I have the Governor's office in Sacramento, Sir," the dispatch assistant
    informed Eric Humphrey. "They say the Governor is at his ranch near
    Stockton and they're trying to reach him. They'd like you on the line."
    The chairman nodded and accepted the telephone. His hand cupping the
    mouthpiece, he asked, "Does anyone know where the chief is?" It was
    unnecessary to explain that "chief" meant the chief engineer, Walter
    Talbot, a quiet, unflappable Scot now nearing retirement, whose wisdom in
    tight situations was legendary.
    "Yes," Nim Goldman said. "He drove out to take a look at Big Lil."
    The chairman frowned. "I hope nothing's wrong out there."
    Instinctively, eyes swung to an instrument panel with the legend above it:
    LA MISSION NO- 5. This was Big Lil, the newest and largest generator at La
    Mission plant fifty miles outside the city.
    Big Lil-Lilien Industries of Pennsylvania built the huge machine and a news
    writer coined the descriptive name which stuck-was a monster delivering a
    million and a quarter kilowatts of electric power. It was fueled by oil in
    enormous quantities which created superheated steam to drive the giant
    turbine. In the past Big Lil had had its critics. During the planning
    stages experts argued it was sheerest folly to build a generator so large
    because too much reliance would be placed on a single source of power; they
    used a non-scientific simile involving eggs and a basket. Other experts
    disagreed. These pointed to "economies of scale," by which they meant:
    mass-produced electricity is cheaper. T'he second group prevailed and, so
    far, had been proven right. In the two years since it began operating, Big
    Lil had been economical compared with smaller generators, magnificently
    reliable, and trouble-free. Today, in the Energy Control Center, a strip
    chart recorder showed the heartening news that Big Lil was giving its
    utmost, running at maximum, shouldering a massive six percent of the
    utility's total load,
    "There was some turbine vibration reported early this morning," Ray Paulsen
    told the chairman. "The chief and I discussed it. While it probably isn't
    critical, we both thought he should take a look."
    9
     

Humphrey nodded approval. There was nothing the chief could do here,
    anyway. It was simply more comfortable to have him around.
    "Here is the Governor," an operator announced on Humphrey's telephone.
    And a moment later a familiar voice: "Good