are two endemic plant species. That's endemic. I mean, found no other place on earth."
Vice President Sturtevant interrupted with mocking exasperation, "Well, guys, the fucking salamanders and pitcher plants. There goes the golf course."
"I'm afraid there's more," Raff continued. "The longleaf pine stand can't be cut. Just can't be cut at all. We assumed that since longleaf pine is found all over the South, taking it out at Nokobee would be no problem. But that westside stand is original old growth, and there's only about two percent of real old growth like that left in the entire United States. I know the timber at Nokobee is worth over a million dollars, but we can't harvest it."
Sturtevant broke in again. Time to talk sense to this fellow. He's gone over the line, giving everybody a hard time. He slammed his hands on the table, but not too hard, since he was only four feet from Sunderland facing him. "What are you saying? That we gotta pull out? This is the best deal the company ever had. People are starting to move into that area big-time. Property prices are going up. Nokobee Westside is going to give us the biggest profit we ever had."
He paused, let it sink in, continued quietly, "Now, look here. That whole region may be piney woods now, but in a few years it's going to be built over as much as the suburbs around Mobile and Pensacola. It's going to be a real nice place to live. New South and all that, you know. You're going to have your housing developments, your schools, your strip malls. Lots of paved roads. Nobody is going to stop any of that. So endangered species or whatever the hell you're talking about don't have a chance anyway, do they? Why can't we just leave the bog maybe and a couple of acres of piney woods alone, a little nature center maybe, that ought to be enough for any judge or jury, and just present the enviros with a done deal. Let 'em suck it up. Fat accomplee, as they say up at Emory."
Richard Sturtevant was a good man, a moral man, a former Southern Baptist pastor who had never cheated on his wife. His faith had empowered him with an inner calm: whatever happens, good or bad, whether manifest to the human mind or beyond our understanding, is God's will. But he also had an M.B.A. from Emory University, and a soul where dwelleth the eleventh commandment of the bottom line. People counted with him, jobs counted, and economic growth measured in annual per capita net yield was, well, America's bottom line. The fate of a few rare species had to be kept a few notches down on the priority list.
Sturtevant thought he saw Sunderland nodding, so he decided to escalate and bring out the ecclesiastical nuclear weapon. "That's what God intends," he said through tight lips. "You can read it right there in scripture: He gave us dominion over earth--not to sit around and gawk at, but to use, to prosper with it, and to multiply."
Raff was ready for this. He'd known for some time that God would push His way into the discussion. "I understand what you're saying, Rick. But consider this. People care about quality of life, and Nokobee Westside has quality of life written all over it. I'm telling you, this whole business can blow up in our face if we get reckless. I don't know if you ever read him, but that environment reporter at the News Register, Bill Robbins, is a killer on things like this. That guy knows the name of every kind of plant in this part of the state, and most of the animals too, and he's got a special thing for bogs and old-growth longleaf pine. If we make a wrong move, he's going to be on us like a hawk on a one-legged chicken. And the big conservation organizations will come in too--Sierra Club, Nature Conservancy, Longleaf Alliance--and a lot of people around here you never heard of."
Sturtevant, throwing up his hands, came back hard at Raff. "Now, that's a one-sided picture of things if I ever heard one. You're forgetting that there are a lot of people around here who don't love piney woods. Most of the population, if truth be told. We're living in one of the most conservative and religious places in America. You've got a lot of folks who like to go out in the woods