Peregrinus Orior

by Robertson, John

  Larry was well aware of the beneficial impact that low-cost fresh water was having on the people of many impoverished places in the world. He was also aware that his home country would reap significant benefits in its arid areas as well. He was less cognizant of the catalyzing role of Peregrinus, and the spin-off benefits of increased global stability, which fresh water and a common climate challenge were, in combination, giving rise to. Yet, based on what he did know, he had very good reason to be proud of his success, which resulted from his hard work.

  Yet Larry was also restless, and not just because the winter weather was preempting his running program. For most of his adult life, his time had been fully absorbed in his studies, his desalination research and then more recently by overseeing the commissioning of the desalination plants based on his research, and the setup of the fabrication facilities to produce the cells. There was still further work remaining on optimizing the design of the capacitive deionization cells, but the main breakthroughs were already in hand and the remaining refinements were not all that exciting in terms of the difference they could make in the world. Likewise, there was still some of his time required to support the dissemination of his technology, but others were now largely well trained enough to look after most of that work.

  Larry needed a new project, a new challenge, a difficult problem with potential world-shaping impacts. He had been thinking about just such a challenge for a few days. Actually, the idea had been popping into his head on occasion for quite a few years, but there had previously been enough else on his mind that he’d been able to put it aside. Now it wasn’t so easy to ignore, though he almost wished that he could.

  During his work on desalination he had always known that there was a risk he wouldn’t achieve much, though he was pretty confident that he would at least make some contribution to the advancement of the science. As he considered this new challenge, he was hesitant. The basic electrochemical theory behind his desalination technology was well established. He had no such theoretical underpinning to support his latest conjectures. He also was aware of the notorious failures of others who had tackled the same challenge, whereas such negative precedents had not been a factor in his desalination research.

  Despite being hesitant, the size of the prize attracted him and lately had been coming to mind more frequently. What if a brand-new renewable and plentiful energy source could be tapped by mankind, at low cost, requiring only a simple apparatus, and posing no significant risk to public safety or the environment? Such an achievement could have been an antidote to both global poverty and global warming back when the latter was a concern. It could now be a more environmentally and health-friendly alternative to the massive combustion of fossil fuels, which was otherwise going to be required to combat global cooling. It would overshadow his development of low-cost desalination technology, though the two would complement each other.

  Larry knew something of the physics of nuclear fusion, involving extreme temperatures and pressures to recreate the conditions found in the interior of the sun so as to drive hydrogen nuclei together to form helium, with a concomitant massive release of energy. He knew that despite enormous time, effort and expense, no commercially practical fusion reactor had been developed. However, conventional nuclear fusion was far outside his area of expertise and he had nothing to contribute to the development of that potential source of energy.

  What Larry felt he could claim some expertise in was the manipulation of ionic solutions, and the related materials technology. He knew a lot about the effects of anode–cathode geometry and composition, and about the geometry of an electrochemical cell. He knew that the main difficulty in getting two hydrogen nuclei to spontaneously join together was energizing them sufficiently to overcome the Coulomb repulsion barrier resulting from the positive charge of each one of them. What if this could be done without reproducing the temperature and pressure of the core of the Sun? What if it could be accomplished within an ionic solution? What if the hydrogen nuclei could be stampeded into a concentrated space adjacent to a cathode with enough velocity to penetrate the Coulomb barrier? Would a spherical reaction chamber with the cathode at its center be the best geometry? Would a high-grade vacuum within the cell support rapid acceleration of the hydrogen cations?

  These and other questions were plaguing Larry as he sat in his small apartment looking out at a cold Boston winter, with much colder still yet to come. He had reached his decision. Others had tried to produce nuclear fusion without using high-energy plasma and had failed miserably. He might also be destined to fail, but he was going to risk it. He was going to find the answers to all his questions, and he was going to explore every configuration of a fusion cell that he could imagine, to see if any permutation would work.

  Larry didn’t intend to expose himself unnecessarily to skepticism or ridicule. He would conduct his work in secret, which he thought was easily accomplished in his circumstances. He had already identified an available laboratory of suitable size, and he had confirmed a promise made to him by the president’s science advisor — that funding would be available for any new projects Larry wanted to undertake, no questions asked. He had even identified potential suppliers of components and had begun to sketch some out.

  Larry realized that he had made the decision to take up the fusion power challenge several days previously. It had just taken a little longer for his conscious mind to catch up with his subconscious. Now that it had, he was eager to get started.

  Chapter 29

  January 2032

  Near Healdsburg, California

  Alyssa Morgan buttoned up her heavy jacket and donned her gloves before climbing out of the pick-up truck to check another wellhead. It had always been cold on a January morning when doing her circuit of steam wells and injection wells supporting the Western Power Inc. forty-megawatt geothermal plant she was responsible for. Now it was even colder than ever.

  At her home down in Healdsburg, the overnight lows had been consistently below freezing since early December, frequently with a blanket of snow to greet her in the morning, December and January being the wettest months of the year. Most days the snow would melt by early afternoon. Up here in the Mayacamas Mountains, 2,500 feet above Healdsburg, it was colder still by about nine degrees Fahrenheit, with the snow not melting until late afternoon, if at all, and only then on southwest-facing slopes. On northern- and eastern-facing slopes, and any shaded areas, there was a steady accumulation, with drifts as high as three feet.

  She and Brad had married the previous May. They had discussed the idea of moving further south, possibly to Southern California or even one of the new refugee communities being developed along the Mexican border. They had quickly come to the conclusion that they would stay put. Healdsburg was well south of the zone where federal government relocation assistance was available. They would take a beating on selling their homes in Healdsburg and Santa Rose, and at the same time Southern California real estate had become very expensive. They knew that even now Healdsburg was not as cold in winter as many places to the north had always been. Even up at the plant the average low in December of twenty degrees Fahrenheit was no colder than Twin Falls up in Idaho had been before Peregrinus, and not nearly as cold as Bismarck, North Dakota, never mind Fairbanks, Alaska. So, they knew, at least at an intellectual level, that the new Northern California winters were certainly livable. Maybe even in time they would be enjoyable. They had begun to try out cross-country skiing as a winter pastime instead of road biking.

  The factor that ultimately weighed most heavily into the couple’s decision was their work. Brad’s expertise with heating systems was in high demand, with the company he worked for struggling to dig out from under a huge backlog as everyone sought to add supplementary heating to their homes. They were trying desperately to recruit additional engineers and technicians with little success. He didn’t feel right about leaving them now, stretching them even thinner. He felt accountable not just to the company and his coworkers, but especia
lly for all the customers, ordinary Americans trying to stay warm.

  For Alyssa it was even more of a nonstarter. With the increased electric baseboard heating load, her power plant was now critical to meeting the energy needs of Northern California. In fact, Western Power Inc. had taken advantage of the new incentives to refit the steam turbine with an updated blade and vane design, and to increase the turbine inlet pressure. The plant was now making a steady forty-six megawatts, and Alyssa could never bring herself to leave her power plant behind. Compelling her to stay even more than the plant itself was the greenhouse operation. Food had become even more expensive, with a shorter growing season throughout the state, and the Healdsburg Food Pantry was even more dependent on Alyssa. She and Brad had expanded their cottage agriculture operation. The second concrete pad was now shared by a smaller greenhouse, a small chicken barn and a small three-bedroom cottage.

  One of the bedrooms within the cottage was for a new helper they had recruited to assist the Ortizes with the increased workload of the expanded operation. Lourdes had also been a client and volunteer at the Food Pantry and welcomed the opportunity to tend to the chickens and the laying hens, as well as pick and pack vegetables in exchange for room and board and a little extra cash. The young woman had chosen to stay behind in Healdsburg when the rest of her family decided to go south to a home they owned in Manzanillo. She was living in the family’s Healdsburg home and subsisting on a little money they had left for her and whatever odd jobs she could pick up, but was finding it hard going. She now lived on site seven days a week, which meant that the chickens would be fed and the eggs gathered even on the occasional day neither Alyssa nor the Ortizes visited the place. Lourdes, at eighteen years old, was slim with straight black hair and looked a lot like Seychelle Gabriel, the actress whose character in the sci-fi series Falling Skies Lourdes had been named after. She proved to be a great addition to the team — hardworking and a source of constant optimism and cheerfulness.

  At first Alyssa and Brad had worried a little about leaving Lourdes alone overnight on the site. She had telephone and Internet contact but, with Alyssa using the truck during the winter, there was no vehicle on site if she needed to get down to town. They considered buying a used Jeep, but after a week it seemed unnecessary. Lourdes was perfectly comfortable being by herself. The little cottage was warm and cozy and well stocked. She was working on a science degree offered online through the California Community Colleges system so her evenings were mostly taken up with studying.

  Lourdes also enjoyed running. Her days usually began with a one- or two-hour run up and down Geysers Road, even on most winter days. She had promised Alyssa and Brad that she would stick to the main road and not run on the side roads linking the steam and injection wells to the plant. There was very little traffic on Geysers Road, but the resident mountain lion population tended to keep back in the hills, away from the road. They also bought her a small can of bear spray in a waist belt holster, which she promised to take with her any time she went outside the cottage, including on her runs.

  A couple of times a month Lourdes would catch a ride back to Healdsburg and spend a day or two with some friends, always checking first with Alyssa on what days would work best. She also kept in touch with friends and family through video chat, but as best Brad and Alyssa could tell, she had no romantic attachments. Once they’d all been together for a while, Alyssa broached the subject with Lourdes, who explained that she had dated a few guys in high school but hadn’t yet found anyone she really cared for. She found the boys her age had only one thing on their minds and it was a thing she wasn’t ready to give to anyone yet. Alyssa had said she would keep her eyes open for any good prospects she might come across. So far, she hadn’t found any.

  Brad had built the little cottage, with lots of volunteer help from the crew of the contract maintenance company that performed most of the heavy work on the wells and the plant. Brad had taken an off-the-shelf cottage design and beefed up the windows to the lowest low-energy glass available in California, and also both the R-value and depth of the wall and attic insulation. The cottage had a high-efficiency heat pump, which doubled as an air-conditioner on the now rare summer day that got above eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit, plus a 2,400-watt baseboard system for supplementary heating. Brad was confident that the cottage would remain toasty warm on the coldest foreseeable winter night.

  The second bedroom was available if the Ortizes wanted to stay overnight, which they often did. Likewise, Alyssa often stayed in the third bedroom, and both Alyssa and Brad stayed there some weekends. If she was by herself, Alyssa had the option of a cot in the back of her office within the plant itself, but the cottage was certainly a lot homier and far quieter. On these evenings, Alyssa and Lourdes got to know each other well and became good friends. Alyssa had no siblings but came to feel much like an older sister to Lourdes. She even helped her with some of her coursework.

  Alyssa opened the door of the truck and stepped out into the snow, pulling her Browning 308 from the gun rack mounted on the rear of the cab. She cracked the lever action down just enough to open the breech and confirm that she had one in the spout, ready to go. As she closed the action she also double-checked that the hammer was down in the uncocked position. There was no safety on the rifle. All she would need to do to make it ready to fire was apply a little pressure with her thumb to the wide, grooved top of the hammer to pull it back to the cocked position. She practised cocking, aiming and firing on a regular basis and could get a round off and in the bullseye of a target fifty yards away in less than a second, followed by five more as she cranked the lever action and emptied the clip.

  Alyssa had made her own promise, in her case to Brad, that whenever away from the immediate area of the plant she would always carry the rifle outside of the truck. She had spotted mountain lions frequently, so needed little encouragement to keep the rifle ready, but so far she had not had occasion to need to fire it.

  It was becoming a different, colder world than the one Alyssa had once thought to be a permanent state of affairs. She knew it would get colder still in the years to come but felt confident that she and Brad had taken sufficient precautions to be able to continue to enjoy a pleasant and satisfying life.

  Chapter 30

  January 2033

  Canadian Rocky Mountains, near Golden, British Columbia

  It was the third full winter since the passage of Peregrinus. The oceans of the world still retained a portion of the energy they had previously absorbed, moderating the temperatures of the coastal regions for a few more years. For most inland locations, the last vestiges of the warmer climate were now long gone, especially in the northern hemisphere. The entire world was in the grips of an ice age, the Quaternary Ice Age, the fifth such ice age in the 4.5-billion-year geological history of the world. That was nothing new. It has long been known that all of man’s recorded history has occurred during a temporary warm interglacial interlude within what is in fact a long-term multi-million-year ice age. What was new was that the interglacial interlude was over, ending prematurely by several tens of thousands of years. The glaciers of the world were once again thickening and beginning to retrace the paths of their previous retreat, though that advance was still a matter of less than fifty feet.

  Tom Svenson knelt and retrieved a plump rabbit from the snare beside his path through the thick forest of fir surrounding his cabin. He kept a five-mile circuit broken through the ever-deepening winter snow cover, with small snares set every hundred yards or so. Mainly he was on the lookout for the local turkey flock, of which he only planned to take one. He was a bit worried whether they would be able to make it through the winter with most of their food source on the forest floor now beneath six feet of snow, and more still to come.

  Tom pulled off his outer mitts to remove the rabbit and reset the snare. At twenty degrees Fahrenheit below zero, he needed to be quick. Even with his inner gloves on, his hands would rapidly become too numb to work effectively. He was
particularly careful to ensure that he kept his right hand warm enough to work the action of the deer rifle slung across his back. It wasn’t that he expected to see a deer, though that was certainly a possibility he would take advantage of if it occurred. He was more concerned about being able to react quickly if one of the local cougars became emboldened enough to take him on. Normally that wasn’t something he would consider to be much of a risk, but lately there were more of the stealthy cats around as they descended from higher elevations in search of food, and with few humans now contesting with them for the benchlands.

  He knew there was at least one such predator in his immediate vicinity. He had seen the paw prints in the deep snow converging with his trail and then following it. There had been little left of another rabbit caught in one of his snares a quarter mile back along the trail, just a bloody patch in the snow and a few pieces of fur. He was happy to get to this catch before the cat took it too, but he sensed that the animal was not far away, probably watching from the shadows of a big deadfall, of which there were many near his trail.

  Some of these cats were a good three hundred pounds of tooth, claw and outright ferocity. Tom knew that if a big one could take him unawares he would be hard-pressed to defend himself, even with the large Bowie knife he was using to do a quick field cleaning of the rabbit. He also knew that a charge, if one came, would be swift and silent, from a place of concealment, and likely coming from behind to spring onto his back, knock him down and deliver a fatal bite to his neck. Tom was glad he had left his son Arthur back at the cabin protecting the family and with instructions to both Arthur and his wife, Trish, to keep the whole family inside the cabin until his return. Arthur was a brave and competent woodsman himself, nearly seventeen years old, but still lacking the size and strength of his father just yet. The young man would be an even easier target for a desperate cougar than Tom would.