“I’m not surprised. Since the Supreme Court decision, environmentalists have supported native activists who oppose development. Most Indigenous people just want good jobs, the kind that operations like this mine bring. But there are always a few who are unhappy or resentful over past injustices. Up to now, these people didn’t have much influence, but in the wake of the decision, any group or individual within any native community can challenge any industry, including transportation, that touches on their territory.”
“Wait. You say anyone can issue a challenge? A legal challenge?”
“Yes. And the courts are obligated to hear it.”
“So just one disgruntled member of a native community can block a rail line or a pipeline?”
“No. One disaffected individual can’t block a development, but he can force a court challenge. Furthermore, most courts will look favourably on an application for an injunction to stop operations pending its decision.”
“When you say stop operations, you mean shutting down a pipeline or blocking a railway?”
“Or a highway.”
“Even if the rest of the community supports it?”
“Yes.”
“But can’t the government override a blockade by declaring a project to be in the national interest?”
“Legally, it can. But from a practical point of view, that would be hard. It would generate an immediate backlash that could result in violence.”
“Ms. Smythe, the Supreme Court has also stated that a project can proceed if there has been adequate consultation. What do you make of that provision?”
“It’s toothless. What is adequate? How does the court decide?”
“But aren’t courts used to making that kind of decision?”
“Yes, when they are prepared to do so, but the attitude of the courts has been that industry and natives need to resolve any differences themselves. That means an obstructionist native community can always claim that consultation was improper or dishonest. Our reading is that no court will override that position.”
“The Court has taken note of the idea of social licence. What does that mean?”
“Social licence is a fuzzy concept, but among groups that use it, it means there has to be widespread, if not unanimous, acceptance of any development.”
“Isn’t social licence the same as agreement?”
“No. People invent terms for a reason. If they meant agreement, that’s what they’d say. Licence is different from agreement. It implies authority. You can’t do something that needs a licence if you don’t have one. Normally, if you dislike something I plan to do, that’s too bad. You don’t have the power to stop it. On the other hand, if you tell me I don’t have the licence to do it, you are now claiming authority over me.”
“But I still wouldn’t have the power to stop you.”
“Not legally, but if you invoke the mantra of social licence, you can now argue that what I’m about to do violates the authority of society. In other words, it’s not just you who is against me, it’s all of society. And as society’s self-appointed spokesperson, you have assumed the moral authority to shut me down. Social licence is a means to pervert agreement into authority. It is, unfortunately, becoming recognized as a legal concept.”
“What’s the role of environmental organizations in all of this?”
“They oppose development, or at least their leaders do. Until now, to be successful, they’ve had to convince a large number of citizens to support them. But the Supreme Court decision means that’s no longer the case. Now, if they want to stop a development, all they need to do is find a native community that’s affected and recruit one or two disgruntled members. Even better if they can get one of them elected chief. Given how aboriginals have been neglected and mistreated for so long, it’s not hard to find people who resent white culture and are willing to oppose any development.”
“And the Supreme Court decision gives them a weapon.”
“Exactly.”
19
ILONA
A late fall thaw warmed the air, threatening the frozen meat Darius had hung outside. The snow was melting, rivulets of water running down the hill. Darius was taking advantage of the weather to explore the path back to the railway. He didn’t intend to leave, at least not yet, but when he did, he’d need a spot where he could board the train while it was in motion. He was in the clearing where he had first seen the glint of light from the house when he heard a sound. Alien. Ominous. The rumble of a Peak rover coming up the trail.
He sprinted for the bush, dodging his way through puddles to avoid leaving tracks through the light snow covering. He flung himself down in the shelter of some shrubs just as the rover rounded a corner and stopped in the clearing. Two Peaks got out. One of them guzzled from a bottle and handed it to the other man. They were laughing. The guffaw of brutality, the trumpeting of rampage. Darius was slammed by a surge of hatred, stained by the shame of his weakness. How easily he had forgotten his mission. How quickly he had yielded to comfort. His eyes slitted with fury. He cursed himself for leaving his bow and arrows at the house. All he had with him was his throwing knife and a hunting knife. He could take out one of the Peaks but not both. So he cowered in the bush, hidden from their sight, forcing his judgment to crush his urge to attack.
One of the Peaks flung open the back door of the rover, reached inside, and yanked. A figure tumbled to the ground. Darius couldn’t make out any features, but the close-fitting slacks and coat indicated a woman. She was struggling, but both men had hold of her now, pinning her down on her back. The Peak facing Darius kneeled by her head, gripping her arms and shoulders. The other man tore off her slacks and panties. Her legs flailed the ground, her body struggling against the grip of the Peak holding her shoulders. The other Peak stood up, pulled down his pants, and reached in front, moving his arms back and forth. He knelt, yanked her legs apart, seized her hips, and moved forward.
Darius clenched his fists in rage. Not from chivalry. His anger at the Peaks arose from deeper than one woman’s struggles. But his years fighting them had given him a respect for their weapons and a fear of their callousness. He knew it would be risky to try to overpower them, that helping this woman could mean his own death. But as he crouched in the bush, the image of Sarah, her violated body naked on the floor of her house, washed over him. This woman wasn’t Sarah, but Darius knew that he would have killed anyone who had watched the brutes savaging her and did nothing,
Both Peaks had laid their immobilizers on the ground. He could use his throwing knife to take out the man who held the woman’s shoulders, but he would have to charge across the clearing to use his hunting knife on the other man. Could he make it before the man reached his weapon? It would be close. And it would have to be now.
He attacked. His throwing knife buried itself in the Peak’s chest. Even before it arrived, Darius barreled across the clearing, his hunting knife at the ready. The Peak he hit crumpled to the ground. The woman’s arms came free. She began to hit and scratch at her assailant. The man stared at his partner, struck out at the woman, and turned. Darius was charging in on him. He scrambled for his immobilizer.
Darius wasn’t going to make it. The barrel of the weapon swung up toward him. The hand of the Peak closed around the trigger. There was too much ground to cover. He was already within the field of the immobilizer. The Peak sneered and readied the weapon, but before he could fire, he sprawled forward. His hands braced to catch himself. His immobilizer fell to the ground. Darius’s velocity carried him over the bent-over Peak as he rammed his knife into the man’s back, tumbling past him and the woman. He leapt to his feet, glanced at the first Peak who lay on the ground, the throwing knife buried in his chest. He ran toward the second Peak and threw the immobilizer aside. He pulled his hunting knife from the man’s back, just above the woman’s hands where she had pushed him into the ground before he could fire. He rolled the Peak over and thrust the knife into the upper left of the man’s chest.