I had received the final commencement approval stamp from the Water Resources Committee, but the moment I returned to the office and checked the schedule spread across my desk, that sense of victory vanished without a trace.
Because the construction period written at the very top of the master plan submitted by Napa’s local design firm, Valley Design Architects, was forty-eight months.
“Forty-eight months? That’s enough time for Daniel to make noble rot wine in Bordeaux three or four more times and still have plenty left over.”
When I let out a hollow laugh and pushed the schedule away, Warren, who was drinking coffee beside me, shrugged.
“That’s normal in Napa, Master. This isn’t a place where they build San Francisco skyscrapers. Considering they’re attempting an unprecedented project—digging down through bedrock to the fourth basement level—they probably think four years is pretty good.”
“I do understand that. I don’t think taking that long for a project of this scale means they’re incompetent. But when I think about the joint project with Château Margaux...”
“Time is too tight, is that it?”
“Yes.”
“After bringing in Margaux’s vines and putting them through quarantine, it’ll probably take two years? It’s only natural you’d feel impatient about wasting two years. Hmm... In that case.”
Seeing Warren lean forward, his eyes gleaming, I tilted my head.
“Yes? What is it?”
“I don’t know much about this, but Valley Design, the firm you hired, is basically a neighborhood architecture office. The largest projects they’ve handled are probably wineries.”
“Mm... I suppose so.”
“In that case, why not try visiting a famous firm in a big city, one that usually handles major projects like this? They might have more experience and technology that can shorten the construction period.”
At those words, it felt as if I’d been struck on the head.
“Ah...! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because no one can be an expert in everything.”
“Then do you happen to know any architecture firms?”
He had once recommended the three best lawyers in Napa Valley, so I thought he might have something for me this time as well, but...
“No. That field is really not my...”
“Ah... I’ll ask the university.”
“That’s a good idea.”
I immediately contacted UC Davis, my alma mater, and received a recommendation from a professor in the design program. Then, without delay, I got into the car with Warren and headed straight for San Francisco.
“So where are we going?”
“A world-class architecture and design office called S.O.M—Skidmore, Owings & Merrill. Apparently, they designed the Burj Khalifa and One World Trade Center.”
“Oho... Sounds terribly expensive.”
“... That’s what I’m worried about too. All the money I earned from wine might vanish into this.”
“But it’d be good if it gets built quickly, right?”
I smiled and shrugged.
“Well... that’s true.”
A winery like my own fortress, dug into the mountainside and reaching down to the fourth basement level. It would be a lie to say my heart didn’t pound at the thought of it.
It would cost a great deal, but what was the point of hoarding that money anyway? This was exactly the kind of moment I’d saved it for.
The place we arrived at was San Francisco’s Embarcadero Center. Overlooking the fog-shrouded Bay Bridge, it housed the office of S.O.M, one of the world’s greatest architectural design firms.
The person who greeted me in the conference room was Marcus Thornton, a senior partner at S.O.M and an authority on large-scale underground civil engineering. He skimmed through the existing plans I’d brought for five minutes, then let out a low note of admiration.
“Mr. Brian, you’re trying to do something extraordinary. This design... it’s truly artistic. The void space extending down to the fourth basement level, and the curves embodying the terroir, are remarkable. I didn’t know Napa architects had this kind of aesthetic sense.”
“I was personally involved in the design. The problem is the construction period. They said forty-eight months.”
Marcus adjusted his glasses and smiled faintly.
“The design is perfect, but the construction process is twentieth-century. They’re thinking of an open-cut method—digging everything out, then pouring concrete from the bottom up. If it rains, the schedule will be extended indefinitely.”
“Is there a way?”
“Of course. We’re S.O.M, the best in the world. Without touching even an inch of the design, we can innovate the construction engineering and shorten the schedule.”
Warren and I looked at each other and smiled in relief.
“How is that possible?”
He began drawing diagrams on the whiteboard without hesitation.
“We’ll introduce the Top-Down Method. First, we pour a massive concrete slab at ground level to create a lid. That lid becomes the work platform. While landscaping work proceeds above ground, we excavate beneath the lid and assemble each floor’s structure from top to bottom. It’s like building downward into the earth as though building into the sky.”
“Ah...”
“With four basement levels, the lateral pressure will be considerable, so we’ll use a Slurry Wall method in parallel... All components can be prefabricated at the factory and assembled on-site like Lego.”
The explanation went on for well over thirty minutes, and though it was lengthy, there wasn’t much I actually understood. Even when I’d explained the construction process to the committee, it had been based on what the architecture firm had told me, not because I possessed much architectural knowledge.
After listening to the entire explanation, I asked the most important question.
“How much can the construction period be shortened?”
Marcus answered with conviction.
“About twenty-two months? If you’re willing to increase the amount of equipment deployed, we can complete this artistic underground stronghold for you in less than two years. However, taking special equipment leasing fees and factory fabrication costs into account, the budget will be higher than the existing one.”
In any case, once the end of this year passed, another round of wine sales revenue would come in.
“Good. Let’s do it that way.”
“An excellent choice. For us at S.O.M as well, it is a great honor to handle a major project for a world-class winery like Redwood. In that spirit...”
“Yes?”
“If you could give me a few bottles of that hard-to-find Aether, I could lower the project fee a little...”
Marcus Thornton, his eyes subtly expectant, smacked his lips and rubbed his hands together. It seemed that even while giving that thoroughly professional briefing, his mind had been filled with thoughts of Aether the entire time.
“Of course. If you do good work, I should give you some.”
“Hahaha! I’m sure you’ll be astonished once you see what we can do. And even when you’re old and nearing the end of your life, you’ll look at the winery’s fortress and think you did well to entrust the work to S.O.M.”
“I sincerely hope so. I’ll be counting on you.”
After wrapping things up smoothly and heading back, I received a message from Leo, our intern winemaker.
[An envoy from Harlan Estate is waiting at the office. He says he has a message from William Harlan.]
“Someone from Harlan is here?”
“William sent someone?”
Warren tilted his head, then soon broke into a grin.
“Looks like that fellow has found himself in a bind.”
“Yes?”
“He must be in trouble because of talk that William’s money went into the Napa Guardians Alliance. Stevens, who suffered because of that alliance, was probably angry and went around saying bad things about William Harlan, or the local press must have written something unfavorable.”
“Ah... So he sent someone to clear up the misunderstanding. Is that it?”
“That’s probably how he sees it. He’ll want to settle the situation. Well, that’s only my guess, so let’s go hear what he has to say.”
“Yes.”
When we returned to Napa and entered Redwood’s office, Elliott Vance, William Harlan’s right-hand man and head of external affairs, was sitting upright. Even when he saw me enter, he did not offer any courtesy, merely fixing me with a cold gaze.
“It has been a while, Mr. Brian. Your achievements in Bordeaux were impressive.”
“Let’s skip the greetings, Mr. Elliott. I doubt William sent you here to do something he didn’t instruct you to do.”
I sank deep into the sofa and seized the initiative. Elliott took out a carefully sealed letter from inside his jacket and placed it on the table.
“Our owner deeply regrets that the name of Harlan Estate has been mentioned in the recent unpleasant rumors related to the ‘Napa Guardians Alliance.’ Harlan has made regular donations to numerous organizations in order to protect Napa’s terroir, and that organization was merely one of them.”
“The donation was deposited exactly three days before the protest began—fifty thousand dollars. What an astonishing coincidence.”
At my sarcasm, Elliott’s eyebrow twitched.
“The timing of the donation was simply in response to the organization’s request, and it was something we have done every year. They are hardly the only organization to which we donate. And all of it was for Napa.”
“......”
“Whether the Napa Guardians Alliance used that money to make picket signs or hire lawyers has nothing to do with Harlan. William Harlan does not wish for Napa’s order to be disturbed. Is there really any need for two great families to clash over an unnecessary misunderstanding?”
It was clearly a cowardly excuse, and at the same time, a warning to stop here. The 527 group report Arthur had found was powerful circumstantial evidence, but proving in court that Harlan had directly orchestrated it would lead to a tedious legal battle. That would only eat away at my precious time and energy.
I remained silent for a moment, then smiled lightly.
“Mr. Elliott, please tell William this. I, too, do not believe that a great empire like Harlan would have resorted to such low-grade tricks. I’m glad the misunderstanding has been cleared up.”
Elliott’s expression subtly relaxed.
“A wise decision. Napa’s peace is a value everyone must protect.”
“However.”
When I cut in, his shoulders stiffened again.
“In the future, I would appreciate it if you refrained from making unnecessary donations to matters occurring beneath another person’s territory. I’ll build my winery my own way. If this kind of coincidence overlaps again, then I’ll have no choice but to respond in Harlan’s way.”
“... Understood.”
“And one more thing...!”
“Yes?”
“I personally like Harlan Estate’s wines very much. As someone who admires them, I find it regrettable that something like this has happened to the reputation of Harlan, which built a legend in Napa Valley.”
His face hardened. When Elliott said it, it was an excuse meant to preserve their pride, but the moment those words came from my mouth, they became clear mockery of Harlan Estate.
“In the future, I hope to see issues concerning Harlan Estate in wine magazines. Not local newspapers.”
It meant that from now on, instead of resorting to ugly tricks, they should compete only through wine. Elliott’s face flushed red, and with an expression like he had bitten into something foul, he bowed his head.
“That is what will happen.”
“You may go.”
“Then...”
After he left, Warren laughed heartily, looking proud.
“Haha, you’re worse than I am. William will be angrier about this than if you’d charged in demanding a legal showdown.”
“Honestly, it wasn’t fair play.”
“There’s nowhere in the world that plays fair, except in sports. If anything, you should consider this a clean retreat and surrender without them getting clingy. William does know how to save face, at least.”
Warren seemed pleased that we had landed a blow on William, and he wore a smile all day.
-
William Harlan was staring out the window at the ridge in the direction of Redwood in the distance, while Elliott Vance stood in the middle of the room with his head bowed. Five minutes had passed since Elliott, having returned from Redwood, had finished his report, but William had not said a word. At last, William, who had been gazing at Redwood’s estate in the distance beyond the window, slowly turned around.
“Mockery, you say.”
William’s low voice scraped through the old books lining the walls of the study.
“You’re telling me that that young upstart Brian brought up Harlan’s reputation to my face and prattled on about local newspapers? That he lectured us, saying we should only appear in wine magazines?”
“... I’m sorry, Chairman.”
Bang!
William slammed the crystal glass in his hand down onto the table. The half-remaining wine splattered everywhere like drops of blood, but he paid it no mind.
“You fool! Didn’t I tell you clearly? If it wasn’t certain, don’t move! Fifty thousand dollars? You threw that petty sum at him, trying to grab Brian by the ankle, and instead you dragged my name through the mud! Rumors are now starting to spread all across Napa that Harlan is a petty man who funds things from behind the scenes!”
Elliott could not answer. William sank deep into his chair as if overcome with frustration.
“Elliott, do you think Brian meekly accepted my apology? No. That bastard hasn’t forgiven me. He’s placed a rope called debt around my neck. Every time I try to move again, he’ll bring up today’s incident. Harlan, which prided itself on being an empire of Napa, has been branded as a petty man who paid off an environmental group just to obstruct some novice’s construction project!”
William crushed the Bordeaux report lying on the table. The news that Château Margaux had joined hands with Brian had already cost him sleep, and now he had become a petty man coveting the fame of a young winemaker.
“I started trouble for nothing... I should have watched quietly and responded with dignity. Instead, I’ve personally set a jewel into that bastard’s crown.”
A deep regret, along with a chilling sense of caution, settled in William Harlan’s eyes.
“Leave. And for the time being, don’t let so much as your shadow near Redwood. Whatever he’s making by bringing in architects from San Francisco, simply watch from afar.”