Glass Sky (29 page)

The President pointed to a woman in the front row. “Madam President, won’t further CO2 increases render the shield ineffective?”

President Juarez smiled. “With the new climate we are creating, actual cuts in atmospheric CO2 levels will no longer be necessary. That said, CO2 stabilization is still in everyone’s best interest. We’ll use the shield to motivate nations to cooperate with Tamed Earth.”

“Motivate?” scoffed Rajit. “Force more like it. Though, given recent history, forcing isn’t a bad idea.”

“President Juarez, where does Pax Gaia fit?” asked another reporter.

Rajit shut up. They all leaned forward.

“Tamed Earth is Pax Gaia 2.0,” said the President. “We borrow its best elements. But rather than try to recreate the past by trying to restore Earth to what it was, we want to create a new future where we control what the earth’s climate looks like. Doctor Black was here at the White House because I had hoped she’d support Tamed Earth’s environmental aspirations. Unfortunately, at the last minute, we discovered irregularities in her data and had to withdraw our offer. If Doctor Black’s team had been more forthcoming about the severity of Arctic methane releases, we’d be sulfuring already, and a million lives would have been saved.”

“Nǐ bú shì rén!” Jie couldn’t restrain himself. “Lies!”

“It’s amazing who gets elected when you don’t make voters take a competency test,” said Sally. “Americans.”

Sharon froze the TV. “Americans?” she said. “Didn’t I see your President on stage? If hurricane Martha had hit Shanghai, that press conference would be in Beijing.”

Jie felt like an artist who’d created a beautiful sculpture, only to see it used as a bludgeon. “So what are we building?” he asked. “What is the shield going to be used for?”

“We’re building a tool to manage the climate,” said Sharon. “Same as always.” Her voice sounded hollow, as if the words were intended as much to cheer herself as the others. “You and I may not agree with the politics, but our work still matters. It will still save lives.”

“Save lives?” scoffed Sally. “They’re protecting American and Chinese interests. That’s what they’re doing. Any lives they save elsewhere will be purely accidental.”

A long silence, as each of them struggled to get a grip on what they’d just heard. They were no longer building the shield to help heal the blue world far below them. That bubble of life where the same sun rolled across the entire planet every day, until all 8 billion people had seen dawn. That had been an illusion, a trick of perspective. They were building the shield to serve two powerful nations, marked by arbitrary lines visible only on a map.

“We must protest,” said Jie finally.

“How?” asked Rajit.

“I don’t know… Strike?”

Sharon shook her head. “Absolutely not. Protesting is Tania’s job. Building the shield is ours.”

“So we do nothing?” asked Jie. “Like the scientists building the atomic bomb. We are just doing a job. No responsibility.” A tension crept into the room, as if the poisonous politics from Earth were leaking from the television. The couch felt cramped. President Juarez’s face stared out at them from the screen, frozen mid-sentence in an unsettling smile.

“Sharon’s right,” said Sally. “Let’s focus on our part in this, and give events on Earth time to unfold. This could still change. Tania obviously hasn’t given up yet.”

“Assuming she’s still alive,” said Rajit.

Sally glowered at him. “Thanks Rajit. That’s not helpful.”

“I’m just being realistic,” said Rajit. “Juarez isn’t somebody I’d mess with.”

WHERE AM I? Tania tried to move, but she was wrapped in something, arms pinned behind her back.

“She’s awake again.”

There’s a bag over my head. That’s why…

“Aaaaaaarrrggggh…” Agony pierced her, like razor wire being pulled through her stomach. Eventually she realized she wasn’t screaming anymore. She gasped for breath through the suffocating fabric.

“The President is very angry, Tania.” That voice again. Paul Smith, the President’s corporate lobbyist. How long has this nightmare been going on? An hour? A day?

“We…”

Tania convulsed against the restraints as the paingiver hit her arm.

“cannot…”

Her neck this time, like skin being peeled.

“allow…”

Her nipples felt like they’d been torn out.

“you…”

Her back.

“to interfere…”

Darkness.

***

Tania woke to the smell of vomit. The bag was still over her head, and she was lying on a floor, her cheek in the wetness. Moving? A vehicle? Please, don’t let them see I’m awake. Her limbs quivered uncontrollably.

“What now?” A sandpaper voice.

“We kill her,” said Smith. “The usual disposal site.”

This can’t be happening. Millions saw me on TV. I can’t just vanish.

She tried to find her voice. “Pl… ple… pleea…”

“Shut the fuck up.” Smith’s voice again. “We asked nicely, Tania. You could have cooperated.”

The vehicle skidded around a corner. Tania struggled against the restraints. Wriggled on the floor. The sound of laughter. “How cute! She’s trying to escape.”

More turns. Eventually the vehicle stopped and a door opened. Rough hands grabbed her and hauled her out. Hints of light filtered through the cloth over her head, but Tania couldn’t tell if it was day or night.

“Is that the grave?” asked the gravel voice.

She was shoved onto her knees. No! No! Tania heard a gun being loaded. She moaned as she felt something hard press against the back of her head.

“You fucked with the wrong people, Tania.” The gun cocked.

“Five. Four. Three. Two.”

Don’t scream. Don’t give them that satisfaction. Somehow, in her final moments, that was important.

“ONE!”

Nooo!

“Christ,” said the sandpaper voice. “She didn’t even piss herself. That’s twice in a row.”

Paul Smith laughed. “I told you you were losing your touch. You owe me a beer. And next time it’s my turn.”

The restraints loosened and somebody shoved her onto grass. A car door slammed. Tania collapsed, sobbing, and rolled onto her side. She pulled the bag off just in time to see bright headlights backing away.

Where am I? She sat up, scraped dried vomit off her cheek. Oh shit! An open grave gaped, not 5 feet away. I’m in a cemetery. Trees swayed against the stars, the only witnesses. The cemetery was abandoned this late at night, but in the distance the lights of traffic moved. Tania spotted her omni in the fresh dirt at the graveside, along with her scroll and the pack of gum she’d had in her pocket. She crawled over, her limbs shaking from the adrenaline.

“Buzzz… buzzz…” Somebody was calling. Ruth. The log showed she’d called 37 times.

“He… hello.”

“Tania. Where did they dump you? The river? The industrial park?”

“A cemetery. On a hill somewhere.”

“I know the place,” said Ruth. “Don’t panic. You’re OK. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Whe… where are you?”

“In DC, of course,” said Ruth. “I flew out as soon as I saw your stunt on TV. You’ve gotten in way over your head.”

“Yeah… I…” Tania slumped against an ancient tree. And then the sobs came.

***

One moment Tania was alone, and the next moment Ruth’s arms were around her. “Wow, you’re a mess. Mock execution?”

Tania nodded.

“Oh, I hate those,” said Ruth. “Nice touch, the grave.” She tossed her omni into the hole. “Follow this, assholes.”

“Should I dump mine too?” asked Tania.

“Don’t bother,” said Ruth. “You’re a public figure. It’s not like they can’t trace you. But we Green Army types prefer to remain off the grid. My number goes to an anonymizer in Iceland which forwards calls to my disposable omni of the week.” Ruth took Tania’s hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She helped Tania down to the highway. “I can’t turn on my new omni until we’re in a more public place,” she said. “Otherwise they’ll correlate it to this location. So you’ll have to order a car.”

Tania did. A few minutes later a two-seater pulled over. “Motel Two,” said Ruth.

The car pulled into a gap in traffic and plunged into the anonymous night.

“Thank you,” said Tania. “I owe you. If I’ve ever been more frightened, the memory is repressed.”

“It’s the least I could do for our new environmental hero,” said Ruth. “You have no idea of the stir you caused, do you? They’re almost ready to name a god after you in India. They’re polytheists, though, so it doesn’t mean as much as if the Christians did it.” She stopped. “Am I blabbering?”

Tania managed a smile. “Yes. But it’s helping. How long was I… missing?”

“Officially, you weren’t,” said Ruth. “The White House set you loose yesterday, after a brief detention. I saw the video of you walking onto the National Mall. Quite realistic.” Ruth wrinkled her nose. “Is that vomit in your hair?”

“Probably,” shuddered Tania. “I don’t remember because I kept passing out from the paingivers.” Her whole body was in knots from the spasms. Her throat felt raw from screaming.

The car zipped across two lanes and pulled into a motel. Tania pointed her omni at the booking strip on the welcome sign, and the omni assigned them a room. It had two small beds, and smelled of cleaners masking something unwholesome. Tania hurried to the shower, leaving her stained clothes piled on the filthy carpet. The hot water dissolved the physical traces of her ordeal. Amazing things, paingivers. Not even a bruise.

“I don’t suppose you brought me spare clothes?” she called to Ruth.

“And miss the chance to see you in a towel all night?” laughed Ruth. “Sorry, Tania. Best I could do was put your clothes in the laundry.”

Ruth was sprawled on one of the beds, watching the TV.

“OK, fine. Here you go.” Tania opened up the towel, flashing Ruth and smiling tiredly. “For your mental camera. I’m still not having sex with you though.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” said Ruth. She sat back against the headrest and patted the bed in front of her. “Crashing a White House press conference? What were you thinking?”

“Juarez never intended to support Pax Gaia,” said Tania. “She set me up to fail, so that she could claim that she tried to work with the rest of the world. Her advisor tried to…”

She stopped. I can’t tell Ruth about the bribe. She’s put herself at enough risk already.

“Her advisor tried to what?” asked Ruth.

“It’s nothing,” said Tania.

Ruth patted the bed again. “Shoulder rub? No accidental brushes against your boobs. I promise.”

Tania sighed and leaned forward, letting Ruth’s fingers work into her seized muscles. Pax Gaia. The UNBio preserves. Everything. Dead. How can I possibly be effective after this? Has Tengri fired me yet? Will Juarez maneuver some poodle into my place at UNBio?

“You’re not relaxing,” said Ruth.

“I messed up,” said Tania. “I lost my cool.”

Ruth probed Tania’s shoulder blade. “You still don’t understand how big this is. You tore up the script, Tania. Check your omni.”

“I really don’t feel like it.”

“Just check,” said Ruth.

Tania pulled her omni off the bedstand. She lay next to Ruth and thumbed in.

1200 messages?

Normally she got a hundred a day; aggressive software handled the rest, right down to scheduling meetings. She opened the first one. A poverty relief agency in Ghana? “Dear Doctor Black…” Tania skimmed through the words. “We support Pax Gaia… offer assistance…” She flicked to the next one. Friends of the Amazon. “Thank you for your brave words…” The next was a request for an interview with a British television station.

“New mailbox. Filter on support offers. Apply.” 517 messages.

“New mailbox. Filter on media interview requests. Apply.” 211 messages.

All the speeches she’d given. All the carefully crafted explanations, didn’t hold a candle to the impact of her 20-second outburst at the White House. She felt tears pressing at the corner of her eyes, raw emotion, beyond grief or joy.

Ruth’s fingers worked her neck. Stripping away her defenses. “What happened at the White House? Don’t worry about protecting me.”

“One of the President’s handlers tried to bribe me.” The words spilled out before Tania could stop them. “Paul Smith.”

“The corporate lobbyist asshole?” asked Ruth. “Why is he involved?”

“He said sanctions and civil unrest are bad for business.”

“Maybe so,” said Ruth. Her hands stopped. “But that’s too broad. Tania, if you were going to profit from Tamed Earth, how would you do it?”

“I don’t know. Sell shield time?”

“Doesn’t work,” said Ruth. “The shield belongs to the taxpayers. It’s got to be more subtle.”

“I don’t know then,” said Tania. “I was being mock executed during the announcement. I may have missed some of the details.”

“Promise you won’t freak out when I show you the video,” said Ruth.

“Not if you keep rubbing my back,” said Tania. Ruth has incredibly good hands.

Ruth waved on the TV. She spared Tania the full brutality of the Tamed Earth press conference that Juarez and Lui had given by playing a summary on a proenvironmental station. The commentators touched the main points: feed the earth through regular rainfall, intervene in the climate to prevent disasters, stop the sea rising, save the ice-sheets. Climate 2.0. An earth built for people.

An earth built for people? It hit Tania like a cold shower. “I’ve got it,” she gasped. “I know what was going on in Ethiopia. There’s limited moisture in the atmosphere. So only a limited number of places can get predictable rainfall. Whatever areas do get it will become the bread-baskets of the future.”

Ruth’s hands stopped moving, the shoulder rub forgotten. “Tamed Earth is a land deal. Ethiopia, Uzbekistan. Peru. Somebody is buying desert land so they can turn it into farmland with the shield.”

“It’s brilliant,” said Tania. “It even makes sense tactically. The soil’s good and the land hasn’t been degraded by previous farming. And by dropping rain on foreign deserts it looks nonpartisan.”

Ruth clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shit. Meaghan.” She jumped off the bed and rummaged in her purse, pulling out a new omni. She dialed. “Answer… Answer…”

“What’s going on Ruth?”

Ruth paced the floor. “Meaghan’s still poking at those Ethiopia papers. But this goes right to the top. To the President…”

Ruth’s face lit up with relief. “Meaghan! Thank goodness.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Remember that research we talked about. It’s too hot… What? You didn’t…  Slow down…”  Ruth’s voice grew strained. “Please tell me you were careful… Yes, I can be there tomorrow.”

“Is everything OK?” asked Tania.

Ruth walked to the window and peeked out between the curtains. “I think we’re right. Meaghan says she found something. She’s terrified. Wouldn’t talk on the phone. I’m meeting her in New York early tomorrow evening.”

***

The message arrived just as Tania was drifting to sleep. A distinctive beep, reserved for the most confidential communications. Instinctively, she tapped her omni.

Confidentiality ID:

43F6A8885A308D313198A2E03707344

Dear Biospherist Black:

Effective the end of August, the South African government will no longer recognize the Knysna region’s UNBio preserve designation. We understand, however, that UNBio will wish to avoid further defections. For this reason, we suggest that you add Knysna to the list of candidates for bioharvest. To help maintain appearances, we expect to receive the full bioharvest fees allocated to preserves that have been closed for ecological reasons.

Yours truly

President Mbani,

August 9, 2050

Heart sinking, Tania logged into her work network. I’ve still got access. Tengri hasn’t fired me yet. “Show Knysna Audit Data.” Numbers filled the screen. Missing wildlife corridors. Farm encroachment. Lousy audits. Yet Knysna had a wide range of endemic species, and a strong central core. Hardly a candidate for bioharvest. Recent pictures showed moss-covered old-growth forest, lush with ferns.

Valuable timber. Good farmland, with the trees removed. No wonder Mbani is so keen to develop it.