Chapter 25 #2
“Anyone can make a submission to council and speak to it, remember?” Tap reminded me. “You don’t have to live here or even be a ratepayer. Having said that, the agenda lists this speaker as the nominated rep for a group called D. Cumberland Advocacy.”
I blinked. “You think that’s Delia Cumberland?”
Tap shrugged. “Who the fuck else could it be? She’s wealthy enough to have some clout with the council and get her name on the speaking list. And she sure as hell does live in the area.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “But what the fuck does Thaddeus have to do with her?”
“I think we’re about to find out.” Tap turned back to face the podium. “An organisation gets ten minutes to speak, not the usual five, so this should be good.”
I was still gawping at Thaddeus when he took his place behind the podium, those gorgeous golden eyes scanning the large crowd. When they landed on me, he paused, gave a flicker of a smile, and then moved on.
The council chair stood and cleared her throat, professional sympathy plastered over barely concealed indifference. The promise I’d made about not punching anyone was looking shakier by the second.
The chair addressed Thaddeus. “Mister Grey, you are speaking on behalf of D. Cumberland Advocacy, correct?”
Thaddeus nodded. “That’s correct.”
The woman smiled weakly. “You have ten minutes starting now.”
Thaddeus greeted the crowded chamber with an air of practised experience that I knew he didn’t feel. He hated crowds, and I imagined he’d hate this kind of thing even more.
He offered a very brief introduction—Thaddeus Grey, software engineer, experienced in water irrigation management, and with a professional interest in data storage cooling systems as the two shared some commonalities.
He paused, consulted his notes, and then continued.
“The proposal to build a data storage centre has been sold to you under the guise of economic growth and strategic regional development. Fancy words for the smell of money.” Thaddeus offered a quick smile, and the crowd chuckled, all but the council members who regarded him uneasily.
“But I wonder if you are aware of the potential cost of this project in terms other than financial, because what is truly being discussed is the diversion of an entire river without adequate explanation of how that water will be treated and reintroduced back into the ecosystem afterwards. In other words, the loss of a river.”
The room fell quiet.
“Nor has the cost of that necessary treatment, both financial and ecological, been satisfactorily addressed in any of the public documents released so far. In addition, there is the question of the enormous power consumption involved and its impact on the electricity bills of every person and business in this region, in this very room. And the increased risk of power blackouts if generation levels are not addressed. You are already experiencing power shortages in peak times, right?”
Murmurings of assent travelled the room, along with nodding heads and mutterings of discontent. And if the looks Thaddeus was receiving from some of the council members could kill, he’d have been dead on the floor.
“If you think that your household budget concerns will take priority over the power needs of this new data centre, then you’re more of an optimist than I am.”
More glowers from some of the council members, but also a few raised eyebrows and concerned looks.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Thaddeus. It was definitely him, and yet at the same time, it wasn’t. This was the Thaddeus I’d known had existed but only caught glimpses of, and I was so fucking proud, I was ready to burst.
Thaddeus continued, every eye in the council chamber riveted to his.
“You should know that this current proposal fails to address those existing concerns or provide a solution to the extra load this centre will put on the power supply. If you need more convincing, please read the information we’ve posted on our social media site, Save the Korimako River, or call us. ”
That snagged my attention, and I cupped my mouth over Tap’s ear. “Did he just say he’s behind that campaign?”
Tap leaned closer. “No, I think he said that he and Delia are behind that campaign.”
“The council is proposing to erase an ecosystem that has been managed successfully for over a century.” Thaddeus’s voice grew louder and more insistent.
“The Korimako, or Bellbird River as some of you know it, feeds into those larger rivers that you take your kids to fish and swim in. The ones you use to canoe and kayak. Do you really want to put all that at risk? The Korimako River isn’t a utility line.
It’s a functioning ecosystem that supports wildlife, stabilises the land, and provides community benefits. Ignoring that is shortsighted at best.”
One red-faced councillor frowned. “And exactly who are you, again?”
“Someone who reads reports,” Thaddeus answered smoothly.
“Including the environmental assessments that your office commissioned. Page forty-seven, to be exact. Flood risk, ecological impact, and soil depletion. These aren’t theoretical.
They’re well-documented in similar developments, and the information has been at your fingertips for over a year. ”
Ryder’s heart was bursting out of his chest. None of this was news to him, but Thaddeus was saying it so much better than Ryder ever could. He scanned the room. And people were listening.
Another council member cleared his throat. “Mr Grey. This is all very interesting, if somewhat . . . emotional, wouldn’t you say?”
“Caring for the land isn’t emotional,” Thaddeus said pointedly. “It’s called responsible stewardship—another term thrown around in your reports. I can give you the page numbers if you like.”
I choked on a laugh and the crowd tittered.
The council member’s face reddened. “But the centre has mitigation systems,” he insisted. “And a wealth of safety strategies.”
“True. But they are only as good as the people running them,” Thaddeus returned. “Ask me how I know, councilman? Writing software for systems such as these is my job. It’s what I do.” He flicked a glance my way. “Or used to do.”
The room once again fell silent, bar an uncomfortable exchange of awkward looks around the council table.
“May I finish?” Thaddeus checked with the council chair. “I take it these interruptions won’t come off my time?”
The woman nodded begrudgingly. “They won’t. Go ahead, Mr Grey.”
Thaddeus divided his attention between the councillors and the public gallery as he quickly ran through a list of well-documented issues with existing data storage facilities, both in New Zealand and overseas.
He avoided any mention of his company’s prior interest, and as far as I could tell, all his information was traceable and above board.
Something anyone on the street could acquire if they knew where to look.
He emphasised the need for, at the very least, a far more comprehensive assessment of this particular development’s impact or the scrapping of the plan altogether.
He finished to a wave of applause from the public, and deathly silence from the council table.
“The council thanks you for your concerned insights, Mr Grey.” The chair brought Thaddeus’s time to a close.
“I’m sure our representatives will treat them with the seriousness they deserve.
I call this meeting to a close.” When the gavel hit the block, the chamber erupted in loud shouting and calls for the council to address the issue of power costs and water clean-up.
Those demands were summarily ignored, and the council hurried from the chamber in a silent single file.
I couldn’t hear myself think above the shouting as I elbowed my way through the throng in an attempt to get to Thaddeus.
But it was like running through treacle, and by the time I finally reached the front, Thaddeus was gone.
I stood on the closest chair to see above the angry crowd, but there was no sign of him.
“You looking for someone in particular?”
I glanced down to find Delia beaming up at me.
“He truly is something, your Thaddeus, isn’t he?”
I got off the chair and faced her down. “He’s not my Thaddeus, as I think you well know. Exactly how long have you two been cooking this up?”
She huffed in amusement and shrugged. “Two weeks, give or take. Thaddeus contacted me with the idea of setting the cat among the pigeons, so to speak, and I thought it was brilliant. Not just the D. Cumberland Advocacy submission, but the entire social media campaign that went along with it. I might’ve allowed him to use my name, but Thaddeus did all the work. ”
He did? For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Eventually, I managed a nod.
Delia grinned slyly. “You know that his old company was preparing to bid on one of Elosand’s software contracts, right?
” She waggled her eyebrows. “Of course you did. Just like you’d have to know how very much he regrets that.
” She shot me a pointed look, and my cheeks blew hot.
“He had to do a lot of research for that contract. A. Lot. All of which came in very useful for this little venture. Not that it’s over.
We’ve just lobbed a few balls. If nobody picks them up, the development could still go through. There’s some fighting to do yet.”
My mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.
“Ryder?” She rapped her knuckles against my forehead. “Anyone there?”
I took her hand in mine and returned it to her side. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea you were an environmental activist. You kept that little nugget close to your chest.”
She laughed. “I’m not any kind of activist unless it’s for my own means, although I can’t deny that I’m enjoying pissing the council off.
They put far too many roadblocks in my way over the villa renovation.
Payback’s a bitch, right?” She gave a toothy grin.
“But I can’t have my best landscaper losing his property because of any council fuckery, can I?
If you leave the area, who would finish my grounds? ”
That made me laugh. It was so like Delia.
She smiled and patted me on the chest. “But now, I think you have somewhere you need to be. And a little bird tells me you might want to hurry.”
I grabbed her hands in both of mine and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you. Thank you. You’ve no idea how much this means to me.”
“Of course I do.” She blushed furiously, and I had to look twice to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. Delia Cumberland never blushed. Ever. “I figure it should at least earn me a discount, right?” She patted me on the arm. “Now, get out of here. You too, Tap. I’m too old to be a gay icon.”
We ran for the stairs and were out of the council building in record time, but there was no trace of Thaddeus on the way.
A crowd of angry people lingered outside, and a man pushed a flyer into my hand.
I didn’t hang around to look or hear what he had to say.
Instead, I hightailed it to the parking lot and jogged a loop around the cars to check for Thaddeus’s Rover, but it was nowhere to be seen.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I hadn’t been that far behind, so where the hell had he disappeared to? I scanned the brightly lit lot, breathing hard. Unless he was avoiding me, of course. I’d made it perfectly clear that his excuses didn’t cut it with me, after all. Why would he stick around only to be reminded of that again?
All those times I’d wanted to text or call him, only to chicken out after telling myself how much it hurt to take a chance on someone and be let down.
It appeared Thaddeus wasn’t the only one who ran from the hard stuff.
But he hadn’t run tonight.
No. For the last three weeks, I’d been the one doing the running.
And I’d been a fucking idiot.
I pulled out my phone to find he hadn’t replied to or even seen my text.
I fired off another.
You were brilliant tonight. I can’t believe you did that. Can we please talk?
Yep, way to sound desperate. I waited for a reply, but nothing.
Tap appeared at my shoulder, breathing hard. “He’s not on the street or talking with anyone. Have you seen this?” He shoved the flyer under my nose.
I quickly scanned the long list of bullet points with links to additional resources. They highlighted every concern the public needed to consider about the impact of data storage centres on the community in one easy-to-read format.
I looked up to find Tap grinning at me. “The guy handing these out said they’ve been put up all over town,” he said. “Libraries, doctor surgeries, supermarkets, everywhere. Plus, the local paper will be running a spread, and they’ve fielded calls from the TV networks.”
I stared back down at the flyer. “I can’t believe he did all this in three weeks.”
Tap huffed. “Delia said he was on a mission. I think it was his way of making things right.” He paused and rested a hand on my shoulder. “You know where he lives, right? You can’t tell me you didn’t look him up.”
I nodded, cheeks burning, because I’d spent hours online researching Thaddeus Grey, shocked at just how often his name came up and in what context, his company being an up-and-coming leader in the software industry.
No wonder he’d struggled with the idea of getting out.
He had a lot to lose. As much as I had, in many ways, and I wasn’t sure I’d have been as brave.
And I hadn’t missed the business headlines the previous week when Thaddeus had sold his company share to some hotshot Auckland software firm.
I’d been somewhat taken aback. I’d thought Thaddeus had been trying to sell to Phillip.
Wasn’t that why Phillip had been at the cottage that day?
Tap pressed his car keys into my hand. “Go find him. I’ll catch a ride home.”