Ultimatum (26 page)

“Sure.”

Benton took him back to Aspen, the presidential cabin. Connor Gale was inside, playing a computer game.

Benton smiled. “None but the brightest and the best,” he said, as they went past him to the study. “Yes, Connor, you can tell Ben we’re back.”

“I think he knows already, sir,” said Gale, nodding at the window. Hoffman was coming toward the cabin through the snow.

“Well, we’re not done,” said Benton, and he closed the door of the study.

There was coffee on the sideboard.

“Coffee all right for you?” asked Benton. “Or should I call for tea? Something stronger?”

“Coffee’s fine,” said Ogilvie.

“You want something to eat?”

Ogilvie shook his head.

Benton poured. He sat down, took a sip, felt the coffee warming him.

“I don’t think Kyoto 4 is going to be enough,” said Benton. “Even if we get agreement.” He looked to see Ogilvie’s reaction. “What would the world say if it knew that?”

“Hallelujah, I suspect. The emperor’s been wandering around without any clothes for too long now, don’t you think?”

“Thirty years.”

“That’s right.”

“So what do we do, Hugh?”

Ogilvie frowned. Benton could see him considering carefully what he should say next. “The United Kingdom is committed to the Kyoto process, Joe. We don’t think there’s a better alternative.”

“But it’s a busted process, Hugh. You said so yourself.”

“Maybe now’s the time to fix it.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what are you proposing?”

“I’m not proposing anything.” Benton paused. “I’m just saying, confidentially, that we ought to look at what we’ve got here. We’ve got negotiations for a treaty in a process where three previous treaties have failed to deliver, and if you ask me, that doesn’t sound like there’s much hope for the fourth. And the way it’s shaping up, even if the fourth one gets delivered down to the last subclause of a subclause, it still won’t be enough.”

“Won’t it?”

Benton hesitated, wondering how much to reveal to Ogilvie. It would be easy to tell him everything. He remembered what Olsen had warned him about the British prime minister.

“Let’s just say our analysis suggests that it won’t.”

“Using what data?”

“Hugh,” said Benton, and he held up his hands.

Ogilvie smiled, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“The point I’m making,” said Benton, “is we’re kidding ourselves on Kyoto.”

“Well, a little is better than nothing, even if it’s not as good as a lot.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before, just once or twice. I don’t think that’s good enough anymore. Hell’s bells, Hugh! The world can’t wait for Kyoto 4 to fail. It doesn’t have the time.”

Ogilvie put his fingertips together thoughtfully, almost in a manner of prayer. “There are two things here, Joe. There’s the process and there’s the content.”

“Agreed.”

“Let’s distinguish. I suspect you’re right on the content. Will it be enough? Probably not. You may know more than I do about that.” He paused meaningfully. “On the process, I suspect that’s where we differ. The United Kingdom does believe that a multilateral, UN-mediated approach is the only way to ensure an equitable and truly global solution.”

“Which this same approach has failed to deliver for thirty years,” pointed out Benton.

“Which
we
have failed to deliver for thirty years, Joe.”

“All right, I accept that. What’s going to change it now?”

“You?” Ogilvie looked at him questioningly. “Take away the umbrella, Joe. Stop being the delinquent.”

“Let’s say I was prepared to do that. What’s to stop everyone else still offending?”

“I can’t guarantee that.”

“That’s the point. It’s not good enough. I can’t take that to the American people, they’ll never buy it. I can just about take them something saying the whole world is going to do its part, and yes, it’s going to cause some pain. I believe the American people will accept that. But if they’re going to take pain, I’ve got to be able to tell them they’re not the only ones.”

“Well, what I can guarantee,” said Ogilvie, “is that if the United States
doesn’t
stop offending, no one else will.”

“Agreed. I have no argument with that. That’s the bind we’re in.” Benton tapped his finger on the arm of his chair. “I want to know why the others
will
stop. Tell me that and I’ll have something to work with.”

Ogilvie opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it.

“They’ll have signed up, right? That’s what you were about to say, isn’t it? They’ll have treaty obligations.”

Ogilvie didn’t reply.

“What about sanctions?” said Benton.

“They’ve never been a part of the Kyoto process.” Ogilvie shrugged. “Maybe they should be.”

“You think anyone’s really going to sign up to that? You said yourself, Hugh, no one expects they’re really going to implement the full cuts they’ve signed up to.”

“Joe, I think I can say, if you show you’re going to keep every single word of your commitment; and if you show real initiative in the level of cuts you propose, then the United Kingdom will be able to support you if you push to have serious, genuine sanctions written into the treaty.”

Benton gazed at him.

“I can see you’re less than overwhelmed,” said Ogilvie.

“What are we going to do, Hugh? Set up a court to monitor compliance? And then have two-, three-, four-year legal processes to figure out whether sanctions should be applied? Look at the WTO. Look how it works there.”

“Perhaps we could streamline it,” said Ogilvie. “I’m thinking off the top of my head now. Maybe we could work out a regime where the sanctions are applied and the scrutiny comes later.”

“Same problem,” replied Benton impatiently. “Anything that really looks like it’s going to bite, I don’t think it’ll happen.”

“That’s rather a pessimistic outlook.”

“Exactly. And this is me talking. I’m the biggest optimist in my administration!”

Ogilvie smiled slightly.

“Hugh, let me be hypothetical. Will you permit me?”

Ogilvie waited.

Joe Benton sat forward in his chair. “Let’s say, I went outside the process. Not against it, but in parallel with it.”

“Joe, Britain is committed to a multilateral process. I don’t know what you’re asking, but I can’t see us realistically supporting a competing approach.”

“In parallel, I said. Just hear me out.” Benton paused. “Let’s say the United States decided to impose sanctions on a particular country. It doesn’t matter which. And not being the delinquent anymore, as you describe it, but making serious cuts, deep cuts in our own emissions, and expecting the other country to do the same. Now, I won’t ask you what the position of the United Kingdom would be, because I don’t think that’s fair. And anyway, since I wouldn’t take any action that wasn’t in our mutual interest, I would assume the United Kingdom would support us.” Benton waited just long enough to make sure Ogilvie got the point. “What I would like your view on, is what do you think would be the attitude of the EuroCore? Would they support it? Could I rely on them to impose similar sanctions themselves to really make it work?”

Ogilvie frowned uncomfortably. “I take it this is a significant country you’re talking about? A major emitter?”

“It ain’t Albania.”

Ogilvie’s frown got deeper. “I think it’s very hard to answer those questions without knowing the details of the situation.”

“I understand. It’s hypothetical. Fill in any details you need to fill in.”

Ogilvie was silent. Benton waited.

“I doubt it,” said the British prime minister at last.

“That they’d support it?”

“Yes, that they’d support it. Rumain, definitely not. Sometimes I think his whole raison d’être is to throw spanners in the works of your foreign policy. DiMarco? Not at this point. Ingelbock, maybe. Koslowski, he’s a hard one to judge. The Poles have a number of issues with Russia at the moment, and if you gave them something on that. .. I’m not sure what it would be, but if you could give them something in that area, maybe they’d get behind you. But I’m guessing, Joe. And it’s just as likely they’d all give you no support at all. More likely than not, actually. If this was a significant country, as you say, your sanctions would open up opportunities for them.”

Benton nodded. It wasn’t too much different from what he’d expected to hear. “What about Russia?”

“Russia.” Ogilvie nodded. “You’d certainly want Russia to support you if this country you were talking about happened to be China. Choke off their Russian energy supplies, that’s the one sure way of getting them. But what would Russia want in return? That’s the question, isn’t it? Ask them to cut their energy supplies to China, and how much do you knock off their GDP? And what does it do to their economy in the long term if we all cut our fossil fuel consumption?”

“You’re way ahead of me,” said Benton.

Ogilvie looked at him knowingly. “Of course I am. This is all hypothetical.”

There was silence.

“You’ll be invited as a guest at the EuroCore summit in June,” said Ogilvie. “You’ll get to hear everyone’s views for themselves. I’m sure there’ll be a spirited debate about Kyoto at the summit.” He smiled slightly. “There always is.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” said Benton.

Hugh Ogilvie looked at him seriously. “It isn’t my place to give you advice, Joe, but you’ve got a hell of a legislative program on your plate. People elected you knowing you were committed to Kyoto. Presumably that’s one of the reasons they supported you. It seems odd that you’d put that support in danger. Wouldn’t it be easier to go along with Kyoto like you said you would, at least until you’ve got your legislation in place?”

“It would be easier.”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

“I haven’t said I won’t.”

“Of course not, and I realize this is a confidential discussion. But I just think... from where I sit, it looks as if you’ll need every bit of support you can get to drive your program home. I just can’t see that you can afford to alienate any of your natural constituency.” Ogilvie shrugged. “Or maybe I’m wrong.”

“No,” said Benton. “You’re absolutely right.”

~ * ~

Friday, February 18

Oval Office, The White House

Dr. Richards was on her feet. The latest data, she had explained, were tending to confirm the mid to upper level of the trends she had presented to the president at his first meeting with President Gartner. On the screen behind her she projected a series of maps to demonstrate her scenarios, each showing various parts of the coastal fringes of the continental United States in red. As each scenario grew more extreme, the areas in red expanded.

It was Oliver Wu’s first meeting as a member of the Marion group. He sat silently, staring at the screen, listening to Dr. Richards’s presentation and the questions that came from the others. Larry Olsen, who was on a visit to Pakistan, had filled him in a couple of days earlier, but it hadn’t seemed quite so real, quite so bleak, until he found himself actually sitting in the Oval Office with the president of the United States and his chief political advisor and the White House chief of staff and the national security advisor and the budget director and he began to see these maps coming up on the screen in front of them all.