Scenes from a Preternatural Presidency -- 4. Where the Buffalo Roam (D)
I left him staring, and some brisk discussion with Medicine Wolf, eyes occasionally going distant as it consulted, found agreement that a first meeting with Koyaanisquat, attending the planning conference, could be filmed but only broadcast as a prologue to the meeting when Great Manitou Corner was done. The chiefs were all happier than not, and beginning to be seriously excited while increasingly apprehensive, and though I wasn’t prepared to proliferate federal departments I could agree that the Department of the Mississippi might become the Department of Manitou Basins. I also managed to delegate some kick-starting of planning for the hydro-engineering conferences, with a promise to call Mesa U. on Monday and loop in the experienced from Wazzu and Wash. U.. That was a relief, and I left them wondering about geothermal power-taps on their lands, with the side-benny of making electric and hybrid vehicles much more viable while not having to build pylons and generate large magnetic fields everywhere.
When we got home Adam and Jesse had laughter as well as mild shock to let loose, and he’d developed quite a thing about seeing me get presidential on people, so we had an early night, but not before I’d used his fancy system to conference with Bran, accompanied by Charles and Anna, Gwyn ap Lugh, with a perky Edythe, Gordon, my disreputable da, Irpa, Frank, Glen Sawyer, and a wary but fascinated State. Great manitous interested everyone, for obvious reasons, but a contiguous trio of them that was borrowing my sideways political style to produce a declarative concert-venue of sorts had not quite been on any of our radars, and disconcerted all of us more than it should. I shrugged.
“As a music venue Great Manitou Corner is mostly going to be a magnificent … what ? Watershed feature ? Folly covers it, I suppose. Though the musicians will doubtless approve, if they don’t freeze. But it’s a huge symbol at what will be a negligible cost - the Treasury pays all those engineers and NASA types anyway - and whatever else they might want down the road, what the manitous seem to want just now is helping Koyaanisquat, as we have helped Bison. I can also file under reparations for riparicide. More apologising for other people will annoy me, but at least this one’s a reversible killing, though undamming Lake Mead remains next to impossible with rainfall patterns so disturbed. Then again, whatever the Three Manitous are about is trading on my presidency, and Caroline’s and Penny’s cameras, so when power came up I mostly thought we could try to get the geothermal tap stuff sorted from the get-go. If it works half as well as I’m hoping it’ll be very good news in ever so many places.”
Charles looked at me quizzically. “You can leverage manitous ?”
“Already have, big brother, but it was handed to me.” I waggled a hand. “At a guess, Medicine Wolf and Ol’ Manitou River used the music to create a requirement for human electric power. Koyaanisquat gets some side-bennies to gentle it along, and we get a prod to provide power without polluting or confusing any birds with wind turbines, which the manitous sorta appreciate but think are ugly.”
“Rightly.” Gordon grimaced. “And they kill plenty of birds. But geothermal taps, now. On a mountain-top ?”
“Makes no odds to manitous, Gordon. And I’d bet serious green power flowing out of the triple watershed suits them just fine symbolically. For my money, gentlebeings, what happened is that I unavoidably taught them to use TV, and they’re running with it for themselves.” I frowned. “Not that great manitous run, exactly.”
Ap Lugh smiled, Edythe grinning beside him.
“It is true enough, Mercedes, and I agree. But they are not just using TV, they are using it as you did, with the same musicians. From what you say the politics of the Lower Colorado are one target - in Mexico as well as the US ?”
“Surely, Gwyn ap Lugh. They’ll get the feed, when there is one.”
“Have you identified other targets ?”
“Any number, Gwyn ap Lugh, around the world. It’ll be another global feed. State, you’re here partly for a heads up because for all I know the magic itself will send a signal. Anyone have anything to say about that ?”
Coyote frowned. “Medicine Wolf said they could only do whatever it is right on the triple watershed ?”
“Yup.”
“Huh. It must be the mixed bits they need, then.”
“Mixed bits ?”
“Oh yes. Water runs off the rock one of three ways, but some soaks in and goes wherever. And magma doesn’t care about watersheds when it moves, so deeper down they’re in exchange anyway.”
“Huh. Point. Does it help answer the question ?”
“Who knows ? They haven’t done it before. But big magic usually sends big ripples.”
“True. In any case, it’ll promote the geothermal tap, and that’s for the Fae and Wolves as well as US humans in any of the three basins.”
“How so for us, Mercedes ?”
“I know Underhill doesn’t do electricity, Gwyn ap Lugh, but the community at Walla Walla uses enough. If it’s still sufficiently in Washington, a geothermal tap with a turbine cased in plenty of ceramic would save on bills and let you run copper wire anywhere you needed.” I turned to Bran. “Same for Aspen Creek, except you’ve already got all the infrastructure, plus you could then lose the pylons and keep the Cabinets cleaner.”
Mildly croggling both Gray Lords and Bran was cheering and amused Coyote no end, so I called it a day, needful duty done. There was rather more wrangling next day and Monday, which cramped my week some, but my engineer generals were rising to a challenge, and for me the whole business compressed itself into two main events, one almost immediate and the other sooner than my best hopes.
When generals with close to carte blanche and enough choppers put a rush on things, they happen fast, the more so as I’d deputed Skuffles to problem-solve as necessary, and it was only ten days before I found myself heading to Three Waters Mountain by cloak. Adam wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and given her role in politicising the Colorado riparicide Jesse probably mattered as much as I did. All sorts of people were already there, looking as pleased as bemused, and so were Medicine Wolf and Ol’ Manitou River, inspecting the temporary structure that had been thrown up. It was an isolated and inhospitable place - being over 11,000 feet up will do that - and a keen wind made serious insulation necessary, but as I studied the triangular building I could see that more level ground had already been provided. The Columbia-Colorado watershed was a shallow secondary ridge, and the Mississippi boundary at that point a ridgeline above a fairly sheer cliff a hundred-and-some feet high with a narrow, flatter strip above it that the secondary ridge intersected, but the cliff had acquired a projecting triangle of rock tapering to nothing at the base but adding several acres at the top. A part of both ridgelines had been flattened and lowered slightly, and the triangular building was centred on the triple-watershed, now marked by a column of rock, with large central openings in each side, looking directly into each basin, that had sliding Perspex shutters to serve as windbreaks, and around the column a bunch of computers and a projector being tended by Wazzu scientists, some of whom I recognised from earlier manitou conferences. Caroline, Al, & Vince were filming them while keeping out of their way, and after I’d greeted Medicine Wolf, Ol’ Manitou River, and the array of excited people my engineers had assembled, Caroline looked a query and made her way towards me, Al and Vince trailing.
“Ms President, Mr Hauptman, Ms Hauptman.”
“Ms Taylor.” I grinned at her while Adam and Jesse nodded. “Isn’t this something else ?”
“Oh yeah. KEPR had conniptions when they were told we were needed to film something that couldn’t be broadcast for a while, and no-one seems clear about that timetable. Is there anything you can tell us ?”
“Not yet, but today should clarify things. I imagine you’ve worked out that we’re expecting the Great Manitou of the Colorado to join us ?”
“Yes, that we managed, Ms President, but not much more.”
“So this today is to plan a permanent structure here that will be called Great Manitou Corner.”
Caroline gave me a look with Vince not far behind.
“Right. And what will Great Manitou Corner be, exactly, Ms President ?”
“Besides a manitou hang-out ? A really strange concert venue and, we hope, the world’s newest and greenest power-station.” The looks became dazed, and I laughed. “I know, but great manitous get pretty much what they want, especially when they gang-up. In any case, the film but don’t broadcast is because my meeting with and apology to the Colorado manitou - its name is Koyaanisquat, by the way - should be recorded, but planning Great Manitou Corner properly means that has to happen well before its official coming-out. You and Penny can both be here for that, and the earlier footage can then be broadcast, but not until and it may be a while, depending on what gets decided today.”
“Alright, Ms President. That makes sense, sort of. A power-station ?”
“Yup. That’s why the NASA and other engineers, and some things may have to be redacted. We’ll see. And I need to be doing, if you’ll excuse me.”
Both Medicine Wolf and Ol’ Manitou River had risen and were looking out through the Colorado-side opening, so Skuffles and I went to join them, Adam and Jesse beside us, and humans fell silent. Medicine Wolf glanced down.
Koyaanisquat has been watching and is gathering itself to manifest. The mindvoice sounded interested. It has not done so for a long time, and yet feels some reluctance. But here we go.
I had been subtly aware of the scrutiny, but it had felt distant. Now my magical senses told me something much more powerful was happening, and after a long moment a shape coalesced on the downslope beyond the opening and breaths were drawn in sharply. Koyaanisquat hadn’t gone for a cougar form after all, but that of a smilodon on the same scale as Medicine Wolf. Which subspecies it might be I had no clue, but the coat was a deep tan with markings that might be brindling or just striping, and the curved canines looked enormous, catching light as the great head turned, looking about, before stalking towards us. The edges of the opening got a stare and a sniff, but it didn’t hesitate to step inside, again looking round and, I was fairly sure, exchanging greetings and maybe more with the other manitous. Then it looked straight at me and Skuffles, and I gave a short bow while Skuffles ducked her head, feeling the tension in my throat and taking a deep breath.
“Greetings, Great Manitou, sir. Is Koyaanisquat still an acceptable name for this form ?”
Yes, I chose it for good reason. The mindvoice was unlike both Medicine Wolf’s and Ol’ Manitou River’s, higher pitched and somehow cooler, or more detached. You are the daughter of Coyote who is now Paramount Chief of the humans of my lands and those of my neighbours ?
“I am, Koyaanisquat. Coyote named me She Doesn’t Only Fix Cars, She Drops People Right In It, and to Anglos I am Mercy Hauptman. My husband and mate, Adam, Alpha of the Columbia Basin werewolf pack, and our daughter She Steps Sideways Too, or Jesse.” Another deep breath. “And as serving President of the United States, I offer you sincere human apologies for how your waters have been treated and stolen, for what little such apologies may be worth.”
Without your remedial actions of late they would mean nothing, but my neighbours have explained much I did not understand, so I will accept your apology as a first step on your Paths of Assertion and Mercy. They have also explained that there are matters you must keep confidential if you allow me to read you, and I will respect that.
That had been a problem for many of my advisors, but I had insisted there was little point in not trusting great manitous, and various nuclear codes and the like would be changed as soon as Koyaanisquat was done, just in case, so I nodded.
“Thank you, Koyaanisquat, and on that basis please go ahead.”
I met the silver-on-gold eyes, and though I was by now used to manitou-readings this one felt different. Koyaanisquat was being careful as promised, but it really wanted to know about my history with manitous from my perspective, and about my relations with Elder Spirits as well as other preternaturals. How to use saturation TV coverage was up there too, with some doubling down on Jesse’s use of intranets, and when it was done with me it turned to Adam for what seemed a far quicker read, though I noted that the Vietnam smells were even more muted and gave silent thanks. Then the great head turned to Jesse.
You have done much to restore my waters, I am told and learn, She Steps Sideways Too.
Jesse swallowed, and I could hear the tension in her voice.
“I have done what I could, Koyaanisquat, and am sorry it was not more. Humans are difficult to wrangle.”
She stood tall, meeting Koyaanisquat’s eyes, and both Adam and I had our noses wide open as it read her, but all seemed well, Christie’s scent much fainter - she was actually in rehab, for a wonder - and there were new smells that spoke of her satisfactions with Georgetown and ever-closer friendship and work with Jenna and Sally. When the great head withdrew a little those eyes stayed on Jesse a moment, before its gaze encompassed Adam, Skuffles, and me as well.
For your age you have done much, She Steps Sideways Too, and I thank you for it. You are all unusual beings, and I am pleased we can seek a better way. But as I do not like being under a roof, even here, might we now proceed as swiftly as may be ?
Swift was fine by me, but what developed was as weird as anything I’ve ever done, which by now is saying something. The freaked but fascinated Wazzu scientists brought up and projected a 3-D model of the existing topography, including its recent extension, and the basic parameters of a circular building with ramped entrances mirroring the existing openings didn’t take long. The roof would be centred on the watershed point, the stage had to be central, and if the musicians wouldn’t be able to look more than one way at once, the Wall-of-Sound stacks could be configured as triangles. A distinct lack of audiences made anything more than minimal facilities and sanitation unnecessary, the manitous could provide enough water to fill a storage tank, and a recess for a composting tank, so that was all good. And for when musicians weren’t 11,000 foot up in the Wind River Range, a set of 2-TB hard drives with my music library was no problem, and I was very happy to have three unimpeachable reasons for wrangling some hefty additions to it, though designing a control interface via smartphone that great manitous could use was going to be an interesting side-project for an array of the grinning geeks. But the power-station bit was something else. A different CAD programme was fired up, and with the manitous providing temperature-data as a shaft was modelled and deepened the engineers decided a depth of something over 11,000 feet, with an ambient temperature at the bottom of about 170° F, would be enough. NASA’s ceramics would laugh at that, and printing the blades and casings to the same specs as the usual metal ones wasn’t a problem, even with a thick projecting collar added to rest on ledges the manitous would provide. But they had been thinking hard about what they wanted, and humans could do, and as they began telling the scientists what configurations they needed a thing of efficient beauty emerged.
They were determined that the shaft itself would be exactly on their mutual watershed, for reasons they found compelling, but there being three of them, it would divide at the top and there would be three turbines, with further shafts returning cooled air downwards. But it was the secondary generation they’d thought up that had everyone hopping - a sealed water-system that would cool air and as water warmed and expanded both heat the stadium-floor and overflow the drop on Ol’ Manitou River’s side, driving serial turbines as it fell and, with one good pump and a set of one-way valves being returned to the top in a wide spiral passing through all three manitous’ territories. All together, the system would, startled engineers calculated, produce upwards of two gigawatts, its heat efficiency somewhere between astounding and unheard-of, while the fact that it needed no external input and generated no waste made all such figures obsolete. A side-calculation showed that smaller, single-turbine systems would be less efficient, but with much narrower and shallower shafts waste heat could be transferred to water for domestic supply, eliminating any need for a separate boiler or heat-pump - not so good for urban use, but a real boon for the more isolated, including many First People. We added an underground cable that would take those gigawatts where they were needed, meaning in the first place Idaho Falls, as the nearest city, and the design was done, save only décor, for which I had my own ideas.
Some further consultation, on site and by presidential superphone, told us that the three ceramic-cased and -bladed generators could be ready in two to three weeks, and the ordinary ones for the water-drop were available now from the Columbia project stockpile. That took us into October, and ceremonies might have to wait on the weather, but a date was set in principle, which made Caroline happy, and after some brief politeness Koyaanisquat took itself off, padding down the slope and vanishing.
Well, that was not so bad.
‘Ol Manitou River sounded quite relieved, and I gave it a look that made it grin while Medicine Wolf dropped its jaw.
We told you Koyaanisquat was still quite wary, Mercy, and are pleased today has been so productive.
“Me too, Medicine Wolf. And my thanks to you both for smilodon wrangling.”
Indeed. That form was more unexpected than not, but it is very photogenic and will make the palaeobiologists happy.
“You could say. I’m more reminded that Coyote says smilodons had no sense of humour.”
He’s not wrong, but we’re working on it. Ol’ Manitou River gave me another grin, teeth gleaming. And this is serious business, after all, though I do enjoy your human computer graphics and music.
There was no arguing with that, and after some discussion with my engineers about what could now be dismantled again, what should be left in place, and how I wanted things to proceed, I made sure Caroline, Al, and Vince had transport arranged, which they did, and took Adam and Jesse back to Kennewick. Another conference call let Bran, Gwyn ap Lugh, and Elder Spirits know what would be happening when, weather permitting, and over the next fortnight I orchestrated a careful set of announcements about Koyaanisquat, Great Manitou Corner, and extraordinary geothermal efficiency at minimal cost, that had all sorts of people hopping. Without images of the new manitou or any statement about its form there was a bunch of speculation, but for once the science-side kept pace as both the astonishment of multi-gigawatts out of nowhere and the potential of the simpler systems was absorbed, though I posted several reminders that manitou time and energy was needed, and the rollout would be necessarily slower than some would like and staggered as necessary.
Behind the scenes even more was happening. The bemused musicians were very happy to be asked to play for three manitous, even if the audience would be mostly remote as well as global and they’d need gloves, but the medley needed posed them problems I solved with some hard-to-refuse presidential requesting cloaked in required secrecy. Colorado Mesa U. was equally bemused and happy to be nominated as a venue for the upcoming hydroengineering conference, if freaked sideways and in need of concerted aid from Wazzu and Wash. U., but after some consulting I could put its President and Board of Trustees in touch with the tribal chiefs who’d be providing what we wound up calling simply the Manitou Group. More sneakily, Jesse gave their student newspaper, The Criterion, an unexpected interview recapping anti-riparicide actions already taken and projecting those further steps that would now be needed. Some things were carefully not said, particularly about Lake Mead and the sheer foolishness of having large cities in arid deserts, but besides college newspapers really appreciating being given national scoops Jesse tackled the reasons for the Manitou Group being wholly First People head-on - “Would you want to sit down with people who were, and too often still are, willing to murder you for their convenience while denying they are doing anything remotely questionable ?” - and made it stick, while trailing possible Duckpond Scholarships for local First and Second People and a deal with Georgetown U. about using the conference for Others 201 that made its president very cheerful and impressed her professors considerably.
Regular progress reports from my engineers relayed the installation of turbines and closed-water system, and the second thing, after some delays from a storm that trundled across the Wind River range and dumped the first heavy winter snowfall, was opening the shafts and seeing gigawatts start to flow - which turned out to be the least of it. With a large high parking itself over the upper Midwest the USAF geared up to ferry in musicians, some South-Western chiefs with two from the Wind River Reservation, Wyoming, and minimal support personnel, and the day before the main event I gave a short national address to introduce Caroline’s coverage of the first meeting, with my presidential apology and Koyaanisquat’s qualified acceptance, followed by carefully selected highlights of the CAD planning. The oversize smilodon form induced a shocked silence, followed by alarmed or delighted chatter, while detailed specs of the energy system had more than the science community goggling amazement, and I let my happy Engineers give some detail about what I’d asked, manitous had suggested, and they had together accomplished very efficiently. Next day it was back to Wyoming for noon, Mountain-Top Time, taking Frank, Rachel, and Andrea, with a quivering Jenna and Sally, and collecting Gwynne ap Lugh and Irpa as witnesses for the Fae and Congress when we passed through the Garden of Manannán’s Death. By luck (and some hopeful planning) it was again a Saturday, so neither work nor school absenteeism would be an issue, and the global audience was already reportedly in the billions.
When we got home Adam and Jesse had laughter as well as mild shock to let loose, and he’d developed quite a thing about seeing me get presidential on people, so we had an early night, but not before I’d used his fancy system to conference with Bran, accompanied by Charles and Anna, Gwyn ap Lugh, with a perky Edythe, Gordon, my disreputable da, Irpa, Frank, Glen Sawyer, and a wary but fascinated State. Great manitous interested everyone, for obvious reasons, but a contiguous trio of them that was borrowing my sideways political style to produce a declarative concert-venue of sorts had not quite been on any of our radars, and disconcerted all of us more than it should. I shrugged.
“As a music venue Great Manitou Corner is mostly going to be a magnificent … what ? Watershed feature ? Folly covers it, I suppose. Though the musicians will doubtless approve, if they don’t freeze. But it’s a huge symbol at what will be a negligible cost - the Treasury pays all those engineers and NASA types anyway - and whatever else they might want down the road, what the manitous seem to want just now is helping Koyaanisquat, as we have helped Bison. I can also file under reparations for riparicide. More apologising for other people will annoy me, but at least this one’s a reversible killing, though undamming Lake Mead remains next to impossible with rainfall patterns so disturbed. Then again, whatever the Three Manitous are about is trading on my presidency, and Caroline’s and Penny’s cameras, so when power came up I mostly thought we could try to get the geothermal tap stuff sorted from the get-go. If it works half as well as I’m hoping it’ll be very good news in ever so many places.”
Charles looked at me quizzically. “You can leverage manitous ?”
“Already have, big brother, but it was handed to me.” I waggled a hand. “At a guess, Medicine Wolf and Ol’ Manitou River used the music to create a requirement for human electric power. Koyaanisquat gets some side-bennies to gentle it along, and we get a prod to provide power without polluting or confusing any birds with wind turbines, which the manitous sorta appreciate but think are ugly.”
“Rightly.” Gordon grimaced. “And they kill plenty of birds. But geothermal taps, now. On a mountain-top ?”
“Makes no odds to manitous, Gordon. And I’d bet serious green power flowing out of the triple watershed suits them just fine symbolically. For my money, gentlebeings, what happened is that I unavoidably taught them to use TV, and they’re running with it for themselves.” I frowned. “Not that great manitous run, exactly.”
Ap Lugh smiled, Edythe grinning beside him.
“It is true enough, Mercedes, and I agree. But they are not just using TV, they are using it as you did, with the same musicians. From what you say the politics of the Lower Colorado are one target - in Mexico as well as the US ?”
“Surely, Gwyn ap Lugh. They’ll get the feed, when there is one.”
“Have you identified other targets ?”
“Any number, Gwyn ap Lugh, around the world. It’ll be another global feed. State, you’re here partly for a heads up because for all I know the magic itself will send a signal. Anyone have anything to say about that ?”
Coyote frowned. “Medicine Wolf said they could only do whatever it is right on the triple watershed ?”
“Yup.”
“Huh. It must be the mixed bits they need, then.”
“Mixed bits ?”
“Oh yes. Water runs off the rock one of three ways, but some soaks in and goes wherever. And magma doesn’t care about watersheds when it moves, so deeper down they’re in exchange anyway.”
“Huh. Point. Does it help answer the question ?”
“Who knows ? They haven’t done it before. But big magic usually sends big ripples.”
“True. In any case, it’ll promote the geothermal tap, and that’s for the Fae and Wolves as well as US humans in any of the three basins.”
“How so for us, Mercedes ?”
“I know Underhill doesn’t do electricity, Gwyn ap Lugh, but the community at Walla Walla uses enough. If it’s still sufficiently in Washington, a geothermal tap with a turbine cased in plenty of ceramic would save on bills and let you run copper wire anywhere you needed.” I turned to Bran. “Same for Aspen Creek, except you’ve already got all the infrastructure, plus you could then lose the pylons and keep the Cabinets cleaner.”
Mildly croggling both Gray Lords and Bran was cheering and amused Coyote no end, so I called it a day, needful duty done. There was rather more wrangling next day and Monday, which cramped my week some, but my engineer generals were rising to a challenge, and for me the whole business compressed itself into two main events, one almost immediate and the other sooner than my best hopes.
When generals with close to carte blanche and enough choppers put a rush on things, they happen fast, the more so as I’d deputed Skuffles to problem-solve as necessary, and it was only ten days before I found myself heading to Three Waters Mountain by cloak. Adam wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and given her role in politicising the Colorado riparicide Jesse probably mattered as much as I did. All sorts of people were already there, looking as pleased as bemused, and so were Medicine Wolf and Ol’ Manitou River, inspecting the temporary structure that had been thrown up. It was an isolated and inhospitable place - being over 11,000 feet up will do that - and a keen wind made serious insulation necessary, but as I studied the triangular building I could see that more level ground had already been provided. The Columbia-Colorado watershed was a shallow secondary ridge, and the Mississippi boundary at that point a ridgeline above a fairly sheer cliff a hundred-and-some feet high with a narrow, flatter strip above it that the secondary ridge intersected, but the cliff had acquired a projecting triangle of rock tapering to nothing at the base but adding several acres at the top. A part of both ridgelines had been flattened and lowered slightly, and the triangular building was centred on the triple-watershed, now marked by a column of rock, with large central openings in each side, looking directly into each basin, that had sliding Perspex shutters to serve as windbreaks, and around the column a bunch of computers and a projector being tended by Wazzu scientists, some of whom I recognised from earlier manitou conferences. Caroline, Al, & Vince were filming them while keeping out of their way, and after I’d greeted Medicine Wolf, Ol’ Manitou River, and the array of excited people my engineers had assembled, Caroline looked a query and made her way towards me, Al and Vince trailing.
“Ms President, Mr Hauptman, Ms Hauptman.”
“Ms Taylor.” I grinned at her while Adam and Jesse nodded. “Isn’t this something else ?”
“Oh yeah. KEPR had conniptions when they were told we were needed to film something that couldn’t be broadcast for a while, and no-one seems clear about that timetable. Is there anything you can tell us ?”
“Not yet, but today should clarify things. I imagine you’ve worked out that we’re expecting the Great Manitou of the Colorado to join us ?”
“Yes, that we managed, Ms President, but not much more.”
“So this today is to plan a permanent structure here that will be called Great Manitou Corner.”
Caroline gave me a look with Vince not far behind.
“Right. And what will Great Manitou Corner be, exactly, Ms President ?”
“Besides a manitou hang-out ? A really strange concert venue and, we hope, the world’s newest and greenest power-station.” The looks became dazed, and I laughed. “I know, but great manitous get pretty much what they want, especially when they gang-up. In any case, the film but don’t broadcast is because my meeting with and apology to the Colorado manitou - its name is Koyaanisquat, by the way - should be recorded, but planning Great Manitou Corner properly means that has to happen well before its official coming-out. You and Penny can both be here for that, and the earlier footage can then be broadcast, but not until and it may be a while, depending on what gets decided today.”
“Alright, Ms President. That makes sense, sort of. A power-station ?”
“Yup. That’s why the NASA and other engineers, and some things may have to be redacted. We’ll see. And I need to be doing, if you’ll excuse me.”
Both Medicine Wolf and Ol’ Manitou River had risen and were looking out through the Colorado-side opening, so Skuffles and I went to join them, Adam and Jesse beside us, and humans fell silent. Medicine Wolf glanced down.
Koyaanisquat has been watching and is gathering itself to manifest. The mindvoice sounded interested. It has not done so for a long time, and yet feels some reluctance. But here we go.
I had been subtly aware of the scrutiny, but it had felt distant. Now my magical senses told me something much more powerful was happening, and after a long moment a shape coalesced on the downslope beyond the opening and breaths were drawn in sharply. Koyaanisquat hadn’t gone for a cougar form after all, but that of a smilodon on the same scale as Medicine Wolf. Which subspecies it might be I had no clue, but the coat was a deep tan with markings that might be brindling or just striping, and the curved canines looked enormous, catching light as the great head turned, looking about, before stalking towards us. The edges of the opening got a stare and a sniff, but it didn’t hesitate to step inside, again looking round and, I was fairly sure, exchanging greetings and maybe more with the other manitous. Then it looked straight at me and Skuffles, and I gave a short bow while Skuffles ducked her head, feeling the tension in my throat and taking a deep breath.
“Greetings, Great Manitou, sir. Is Koyaanisquat still an acceptable name for this form ?”
Yes, I chose it for good reason. The mindvoice was unlike both Medicine Wolf’s and Ol’ Manitou River’s, higher pitched and somehow cooler, or more detached. You are the daughter of Coyote who is now Paramount Chief of the humans of my lands and those of my neighbours ?
“I am, Koyaanisquat. Coyote named me She Doesn’t Only Fix Cars, She Drops People Right In It, and to Anglos I am Mercy Hauptman. My husband and mate, Adam, Alpha of the Columbia Basin werewolf pack, and our daughter She Steps Sideways Too, or Jesse.” Another deep breath. “And as serving President of the United States, I offer you sincere human apologies for how your waters have been treated and stolen, for what little such apologies may be worth.”
Without your remedial actions of late they would mean nothing, but my neighbours have explained much I did not understand, so I will accept your apology as a first step on your Paths of Assertion and Mercy. They have also explained that there are matters you must keep confidential if you allow me to read you, and I will respect that.
That had been a problem for many of my advisors, but I had insisted there was little point in not trusting great manitous, and various nuclear codes and the like would be changed as soon as Koyaanisquat was done, just in case, so I nodded.
“Thank you, Koyaanisquat, and on that basis please go ahead.”
I met the silver-on-gold eyes, and though I was by now used to manitou-readings this one felt different. Koyaanisquat was being careful as promised, but it really wanted to know about my history with manitous from my perspective, and about my relations with Elder Spirits as well as other preternaturals. How to use saturation TV coverage was up there too, with some doubling down on Jesse’s use of intranets, and when it was done with me it turned to Adam for what seemed a far quicker read, though I noted that the Vietnam smells were even more muted and gave silent thanks. Then the great head turned to Jesse.
You have done much to restore my waters, I am told and learn, She Steps Sideways Too.
Jesse swallowed, and I could hear the tension in her voice.
“I have done what I could, Koyaanisquat, and am sorry it was not more. Humans are difficult to wrangle.”
She stood tall, meeting Koyaanisquat’s eyes, and both Adam and I had our noses wide open as it read her, but all seemed well, Christie’s scent much fainter - she was actually in rehab, for a wonder - and there were new smells that spoke of her satisfactions with Georgetown and ever-closer friendship and work with Jenna and Sally. When the great head withdrew a little those eyes stayed on Jesse a moment, before its gaze encompassed Adam, Skuffles, and me as well.
For your age you have done much, She Steps Sideways Too, and I thank you for it. You are all unusual beings, and I am pleased we can seek a better way. But as I do not like being under a roof, even here, might we now proceed as swiftly as may be ?
Swift was fine by me, but what developed was as weird as anything I’ve ever done, which by now is saying something. The freaked but fascinated Wazzu scientists brought up and projected a 3-D model of the existing topography, including its recent extension, and the basic parameters of a circular building with ramped entrances mirroring the existing openings didn’t take long. The roof would be centred on the watershed point, the stage had to be central, and if the musicians wouldn’t be able to look more than one way at once, the Wall-of-Sound stacks could be configured as triangles. A distinct lack of audiences made anything more than minimal facilities and sanitation unnecessary, the manitous could provide enough water to fill a storage tank, and a recess for a composting tank, so that was all good. And for when musicians weren’t 11,000 foot up in the Wind River Range, a set of 2-TB hard drives with my music library was no problem, and I was very happy to have three unimpeachable reasons for wrangling some hefty additions to it, though designing a control interface via smartphone that great manitous could use was going to be an interesting side-project for an array of the grinning geeks. But the power-station bit was something else. A different CAD programme was fired up, and with the manitous providing temperature-data as a shaft was modelled and deepened the engineers decided a depth of something over 11,000 feet, with an ambient temperature at the bottom of about 170° F, would be enough. NASA’s ceramics would laugh at that, and printing the blades and casings to the same specs as the usual metal ones wasn’t a problem, even with a thick projecting collar added to rest on ledges the manitous would provide. But they had been thinking hard about what they wanted, and humans could do, and as they began telling the scientists what configurations they needed a thing of efficient beauty emerged.
They were determined that the shaft itself would be exactly on their mutual watershed, for reasons they found compelling, but there being three of them, it would divide at the top and there would be three turbines, with further shafts returning cooled air downwards. But it was the secondary generation they’d thought up that had everyone hopping - a sealed water-system that would cool air and as water warmed and expanded both heat the stadium-floor and overflow the drop on Ol’ Manitou River’s side, driving serial turbines as it fell and, with one good pump and a set of one-way valves being returned to the top in a wide spiral passing through all three manitous’ territories. All together, the system would, startled engineers calculated, produce upwards of two gigawatts, its heat efficiency somewhere between astounding and unheard-of, while the fact that it needed no external input and generated no waste made all such figures obsolete. A side-calculation showed that smaller, single-turbine systems would be less efficient, but with much narrower and shallower shafts waste heat could be transferred to water for domestic supply, eliminating any need for a separate boiler or heat-pump - not so good for urban use, but a real boon for the more isolated, including many First People. We added an underground cable that would take those gigawatts where they were needed, meaning in the first place Idaho Falls, as the nearest city, and the design was done, save only décor, for which I had my own ideas.
Some further consultation, on site and by presidential superphone, told us that the three ceramic-cased and -bladed generators could be ready in two to three weeks, and the ordinary ones for the water-drop were available now from the Columbia project stockpile. That took us into October, and ceremonies might have to wait on the weather, but a date was set in principle, which made Caroline happy, and after some brief politeness Koyaanisquat took itself off, padding down the slope and vanishing.
Well, that was not so bad.
‘Ol Manitou River sounded quite relieved, and I gave it a look that made it grin while Medicine Wolf dropped its jaw.
We told you Koyaanisquat was still quite wary, Mercy, and are pleased today has been so productive.
“Me too, Medicine Wolf. And my thanks to you both for smilodon wrangling.”
Indeed. That form was more unexpected than not, but it is very photogenic and will make the palaeobiologists happy.
“You could say. I’m more reminded that Coyote says smilodons had no sense of humour.”
He’s not wrong, but we’re working on it. Ol’ Manitou River gave me another grin, teeth gleaming. And this is serious business, after all, though I do enjoy your human computer graphics and music.
There was no arguing with that, and after some discussion with my engineers about what could now be dismantled again, what should be left in place, and how I wanted things to proceed, I made sure Caroline, Al, and Vince had transport arranged, which they did, and took Adam and Jesse back to Kennewick. Another conference call let Bran, Gwyn ap Lugh, and Elder Spirits know what would be happening when, weather permitting, and over the next fortnight I orchestrated a careful set of announcements about Koyaanisquat, Great Manitou Corner, and extraordinary geothermal efficiency at minimal cost, that had all sorts of people hopping. Without images of the new manitou or any statement about its form there was a bunch of speculation, but for once the science-side kept pace as both the astonishment of multi-gigawatts out of nowhere and the potential of the simpler systems was absorbed, though I posted several reminders that manitou time and energy was needed, and the rollout would be necessarily slower than some would like and staggered as necessary.
Behind the scenes even more was happening. The bemused musicians were very happy to be asked to play for three manitous, even if the audience would be mostly remote as well as global and they’d need gloves, but the medley needed posed them problems I solved with some hard-to-refuse presidential requesting cloaked in required secrecy. Colorado Mesa U. was equally bemused and happy to be nominated as a venue for the upcoming hydroengineering conference, if freaked sideways and in need of concerted aid from Wazzu and Wash. U., but after some consulting I could put its President and Board of Trustees in touch with the tribal chiefs who’d be providing what we wound up calling simply the Manitou Group. More sneakily, Jesse gave their student newspaper, The Criterion, an unexpected interview recapping anti-riparicide actions already taken and projecting those further steps that would now be needed. Some things were carefully not said, particularly about Lake Mead and the sheer foolishness of having large cities in arid deserts, but besides college newspapers really appreciating being given national scoops Jesse tackled the reasons for the Manitou Group being wholly First People head-on - “Would you want to sit down with people who were, and too often still are, willing to murder you for their convenience while denying they are doing anything remotely questionable ?” - and made it stick, while trailing possible Duckpond Scholarships for local First and Second People and a deal with Georgetown U. about using the conference for Others 201 that made its president very cheerful and impressed her professors considerably.
Regular progress reports from my engineers relayed the installation of turbines and closed-water system, and the second thing, after some delays from a storm that trundled across the Wind River range and dumped the first heavy winter snowfall, was opening the shafts and seeing gigawatts start to flow - which turned out to be the least of it. With a large high parking itself over the upper Midwest the USAF geared up to ferry in musicians, some South-Western chiefs with two from the Wind River Reservation, Wyoming, and minimal support personnel, and the day before the main event I gave a short national address to introduce Caroline’s coverage of the first meeting, with my presidential apology and Koyaanisquat’s qualified acceptance, followed by carefully selected highlights of the CAD planning. The oversize smilodon form induced a shocked silence, followed by alarmed or delighted chatter, while detailed specs of the energy system had more than the science community goggling amazement, and I let my happy Engineers give some detail about what I’d asked, manitous had suggested, and they had together accomplished very efficiently. Next day it was back to Wyoming for noon, Mountain-Top Time, taking Frank, Rachel, and Andrea, with a quivering Jenna and Sally, and collecting Gwynne ap Lugh and Irpa as witnesses for the Fae and Congress when we passed through the Garden of Manannán’s Death. By luck (and some hopeful planning) it was again a Saturday, so neither work nor school absenteeism would be an issue, and the global audience was already reportedly in the billions.