Page 65 of South of Nowhere

A businessman sort, about forty, with short perfectly trimmed hair, climbed out of the backseat, bending over to say something to the driver. He stood, fired up an impressive folding umbrella, then, with a frowning glance to the waterfall streaming over the levee, spotted the command post and walked down to it, apparently without a second thought about the mud bath that was staining the shoes that Dorion guessed had to have cost five hundred dollars.

27.

Colter Shaw watched the precise man pause outside the tent and carefully shake the umbrella out, as if he had just come calling to the home of someone whose beautiful hardwood floors he would never, in a million years, taint with rainwater.

He entered, set the open umbrella down in the back and joined those present with a cheerful nod.

His name was Howie Katz and he’d driven here—well, apparently,beendriven—from Fort Pleasant.

“How can we help you?” Tolifson asked, waving him to a chair.

Colter’s eyes caught his sister’s and they shared a glance of curiosity—tinted with a vague air of suspicion. Some things just didn’t smell quite right from the get-go.

“I know how busy you must be so I’ll just jump in. I’m head of community relations for a company in Fort Pleasant. You’ve probably heard of us…GraphSet Chips, Inc.” A look around. TC McGuire nodded. Tolifson squinted but the others gave no reaction. To them he said, “No? Well, no worries.” He smiled. “Chips. Not the potato variety. We really ought to change the name. We’re one of the biggest specialized graphics-processing chipmakers in the world, andunlike a lot of the others we make chips exclusively in the United States, not South Korea or Taiwan.”

McGuire said, “You need GPU chips for artificial intelligence. AI can’t run on CPUs.”

Katz’s eyes brightened and he stabbed a finger toward the officer. “Exactly! To make a long story somewhat less long, we met in an emergency meeting this morning, the board and the senior staff. We authorized aid for towns in Olechu County affected by flooding. And Hinowah is one of them. You can look at us like a private FEMA.”

“Aid? What kind of aid?” Tolifson asked.

“Two forms. Cash payments to each household damaged or destroyed by flooding—that’s on top of their private insurance coverage. Insured or not, a homeowner gets the money. And, two, our financing department will arrange long-term, low-interest loans.” He added brightly, “I’m talking private residencesandbusinesses.”

“That’s pretty generous,” Tolifson offered. He glanced at Starr. “Maybe our guest would like a cup of coffee.”

Colter noted Dorion stiffen—and he himself was about to shoot a get-it-yourself glance to the mayor. But before either could react, Katz shook his head. “No, no, I’m good. Thanks.” The man smiled. He had a cherubic face. Made sense to look like that, if you were a shill for a big company.

“We want to be a good neighbor. Our employees’ve fallen in love with Olechu County. And I’m one of them. We were based in Silicon Valley but we decided it was too expensive and congested. And we didn’t like the…mindset. Too many apps for sushi and wine terroirs. We were a little apprehensive—being outsiders—but you all welcomed us with open arms.”

Shaw was six when the family fled from the Bay Area to the Compound. He had little recollection of Silicon Valley, though he was now very aware of its pricey and pretentious nature, having runvarious jobs there, including one that took him head-to-head with one of the biggest video-game makers in the world. On the other hand, those people you could label inauthentic and pompous had unquestionably changed the world—usually for the better.

The cheerfulness now gave way to a strain of sincerity. “It’s not all altruism, of course. We count your residents as some of our best employees, and we want to make sure they have houses to come home to when the day is done.”

Colter suspected there was another reason behind the move. Dorion had told him that every disaster response company in the country had a tactical plan for the aftermath of a quake along the San Andreas Fault, which ran nearly the length of California—and right through the heart of Silicon Valley. It was this fault that was responsible for the quake of 1906, which resulted in the destruction of much of San Francisco.

Another quakewouldhappen.

Only a matter of time.

Katz placed a large stack of business cards on the table. “Give those away to your residents. And you can make the announcement to look us up online. We have people standing by to take their calls. We can arrange for emergency shelter, food, water, insurance company liaison, get them cash. Your ATMs’ll be out, of course.”

“Can’t thank you enough, Mr. Katz,” Tolifson said.

“Giving back. That’s what it’s all about.” He rose, again studying the levee and its growing waterfall.

“Ask a question?” This came from Debi Starr.

“Of course, Officer.” He turned.

“What about now?”

“Now?”

“You’re talking about helpifthe levee fails.”

“That’s right. God forbid it happens, of course.”

“All very good and kind of you. But Fort Pleasant’s got the bulkof the state and county manpower to sandbag and shore up and who knows what the heck else they’re up to.”

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