walks to the huge map with overleafs. he is a slender man in his sixties, who wears glasses and moves with surprising fluidity. he turns to a smaller, younger man, and nods. the man turns the overleaf on the map.
in case you've forgotten, gentlemen, over five hundred lives were lost when the van der lip dam gave way core samples have shown that beneath this bedrock is shale similar to the permeable shale in the van der lip disaster. it couldn't withstand that kind of pressure there. now you propose yet another dirt banked terminus dam with slopes of two and one half to one, one hundred twelve feet high and a twelve thousand acre water surface. well, it won't hold. i won't build it. it's that simple. i am not making that kind of mistake twice. thank you, gentlemen.
himself stops, stands still when he hears the sound. power lines and the sun are overhead, the trickle of brackish water at his feet.
pulls up, parks. hurries out of the car, across the park lawn and into the shade of some trees and buildings.
below him in watching the water trickling down from the outfall near gittes.