NH3

by Stanley Salmons

Terry exchanged glances with Maggie. A strategic decision was vital; fudging the issue now would be the worst possible outcome. There was a pleading look in her dark eyes. He wasn’t sure she’d perceived all the implications when he’d explained it to her, but the prospect of a solution, however remote, had roused her from her depression. Neither of them wanted that distant hope to be snatched away.

  The President gestured at Chris Walmesley. “Chris, you brought this to me in the first place. Are conditions really serious enough to justify such extreme measures?”

  Chris said, “Sir, I think Dr. McKinley’s right. The NASA data you’ve been looking at was collected two-and-a-half years ago but we know what’s been happening since. The NSF has the measurements we’ve funded through the National Center for Atmospheric Research and they agree with ones made independently by NOAA. You already have white smogs rolling across cities – Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, London and, as we’ve heard, Bangkok on the other side of the world. Sooner or later we’re going to get one of those smogs here in Washington. We’re in a high risk area because ocean currents have driven the organisms north and they seem to have invaded every waterway. We’d be better off if we could move the centre of government south – if only for that reason. Looking further ahead, well the evidence is clear enough. I’m afraid the atmosphere is filling with ammonia. Our projections stand. On present trends we have six months, and that’s at the outside.”

  The President switched his attention to Herbert Kramer.

  “Herbert? Any views on this?”

  Kramer’s expression was like stone. “I would recommend taking the entire matter under advisement, Mr. President,” he said stiffly.

  Terry looked at the man in disbelief. He was about to say something when Bob Cabot weighed in.

  “President, I disagree. A few minutes ago we heard that we entered this race two years too late. With due respect to Dr. Kramer it seems to me the last thing we should do is procrastinate further. I’d say we have all the information we need right now. Personally I’d feel better if I left this meeting knowing we at least made some sort of decision.”

  Kramer bristled but said nothing. The President frowned, then turned to the Director of NASA.

  “Noel, we haven’t heard from you yet. What’s your opinion?”

  Noel Harrison spoke in measured tones. “Mr. President, as Chris Walmesley said, the situation’s serious and it’s going to get worse – in fact I was beginning to think there was no way out. Now Dr. McKinley has pointed to a possible solution. It’s as new to me as I imagine it is to everyone else, but it strikes me as highly ingenious, and I believe it could work. On the other hand, it’s unbelievably drastic and I’m persuaded by Dr. Zanuck’s argument that it could prove to be unnecessary. My suggestion is this: we should prepare to implement it, but only as a contingency measure. We could set up some objective criterion for taking action. If, for example, ammonia had reached a predetermined level – a threshold – and we still weren’t ready with our biological fix, then we’d be obliged to adopt the Yellowstone option. If, on the other hand, our experts come up with the goods in time, then we’ve avoided the need for it.”

  The President nodded. “Sounds like a sensible way forward. That satisfy you, Bob?”

  Cabot nodded. “Very good. Who’s going to decide what this predetermined level should be?”

  “Noel and I could do that,” Chris said. “Dr. McKinley has been extending the scope of our atmospheric sampling operations. I believe they should be extended still more, so we can base any decision on a truly global picture.”

  “Everyone agree with that?”

  There were nods.

  “Dr. McKinley? Dr. Ferris?”

  It was a good compromise. He glanced at Maggie and her expression told him she felt the same way.

  “Yes, sir. We’d certainly go along with that.”

  “All right,” he said. “Now it’s just as well to have a plan, but as far as I’m concerned this one is a last resort. We’ll make the necessary preparations, but I’m not going ahead with anything unless all the possible alternatives have been explored. I’ll instruct Sarah to convene a series of meetings over the coming weeks. There will be just one item on your agenda: to discuss some other way – any other way – we can extricate ourselves from this mess. If the meeting comes up with something, bring it to me. If it doesn’t, meet again. And again. And again.” He stood and they all rose. “No need, I imagine, to remind you that this Yellowstone business must never be discussed outside these walls, whether or not we ever have to resort to it. I’m going to consult other senior members of the administration and assess the kind of contingency plans we should be making now.” His voice dropped. “But first, ladies and gentlemen, I intend to pray for Heavenly intervention.”

  In the outer office the atmosphere was subdued but people seemed reluctant to disperse. All, that is, except Kramer, who had left immediately.

  Terry saw Elaine Zanuck lay a hand on Maggie’s shoulder and they went off to one side, where they engaged in earnest conversation.

  Richard Pevensey was chatting with Bob Cabot and James Brierley. Chris Walmesley came over with Noel Harrison.

  “Well, Terry,” Noel said. “Yet again you’ve made impressive use of our satellite data.”

  “It’s been invaluable. And thanks for suggesting the way forward. It was a good outcome.”

  “Terry,” Chris said, “That was a pretty wild idea you came out with in there. Why the hell didn’t you discuss it with us beforehand?”

  “I’m sorry, Chris, I suppose I should have. You know, part of me was hoping I wouldn’t need to – I thought maybe someone would come up with something better.”

  Chris gave him a wry smile. “Perhaps it’s just as well. I might have had you committed.”

  Robert Pevensey dropped by.

  “Got to hand it to you Brits. I wouldn’t have thought of that supervolcano idea in a million years. But then it’s not your country that’ll be going down the tube.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Pevensey – I wish there was some other way. But make no mistake: the UK will be as badly off as you are once that volcanic winter sets in. We’re all in this mess together.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “You didn’t sleep well last night, did you, Harold?” Marie Kinghorn said across the breakfast table to her husband.

  He answered without looking at her. “I was up for a while.”

  “I thought you might be able to relax a little, away from the capital, us being on our own for a change.”

  “We won’t be alone for much longer,” he rumbled. “The Vice-President will be coming to Camp David this afternoon.”

  “But that’s not the same at all! Chuck and Carol Anne are old friends. We’re comfortable with them; it’s not like entertaining guests from Russia or Japan or some other place. When did Chuck get back from the Middle East?”

  “A few days ago. He could probably use a rest. I doubt he’s going to get it.”

  She poured some coffee into a bone china cup and held up the pot to him but he shook his head. “Well,” she said. “I’m glad you decided to find a moment to come here. I’d clean forgot how lovely it can be at this time of year.”

  “I needed some peace and quiet. Time to collect my thoughts. Solitude. Long walks.”

  “Well you’re having those all right. I think the dogs are losing weight.” She looked at him over the rim of her cup and frowned. “So are you. I’d have thought all that exercise would make you ravenously hungry. You hardly touched that lovely dinner Toni prepared for us last night.”

  “Guess my appetite’s a bit off.” For a moment he seemed preoccupied, then he shook his head. “I didn’t ask for this job, you know, Marie.”

  “Of course you didn’t, dear. The party wouldn’t have put forward anyone who actually wanted the job. We’d all had enough of sleaze and self-interest with the last administration. They wanted experience, integrity. That’s why you were nominated. You were th
e right choice for them and, as it turned out, for the people too.”

  He sighed. “I know. It’s just that… sometimes I wonder if I’m up to it.”

  “You wouldn’t be the man you are if you didn’t have self-doubts. The country’s safer in your hands.”

  He looked sharply up at her, and she glimpsed in those haunted eyes a look of such unfathomable pain that her heart lurched. The cup almost fell from her fingers. She hastily set it in its saucer and hurried over to sit next to him, one arm as far as it would reach around his broad shoulders.

  “What is it, dear?”

  His mouth moved but no sound came. Then his jaw set. He clasped his hand over hers. She looked at the two hands, resting on the tablecloth. Her fingers, smooth, slender, the unpainted nails shapely but the joints showing the first unsightly swelling of arthritis. His hand over it, broad, blunt-fingered, the skin blotched with liver spots and ridged with blue veins.

  “Harold,” she repeated softly, “Won’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”

  He looked at her, and gave her a weak smile.

  “Marie, you’re a wonderful wife and mother and a fine First Lady. As your husband there’s nothing I wouldn’t share with you. But as President there are some problems I have to face alone. That’s as it should be. It’s enough for one of us to be burdened with these things. All I ask for is your love and your support, and God knows you’ve never refused me either.”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “It’s unfair the way they shift everything onto you. What are your advisers for?”

  “My advisers give me the facts. Only I can make the decisions.”

  “You’ve had to make hard decisions before. You made the right choices then and you’ll do it again.”

  He regarded her sadly and squeezed her hand.

  “Will I?” he said. “I wonder.”

  In short, we recommend that the weather situation on the Florida coast should be downplayed, as there could be serious public disquiet if the true number of deaths and homeless were released to the media. However, we are also deeply concerned about other systems currently building in the Atlantic. We are advised that these could coalesce into one or more hurricanes of unprecedented ferocity that would sweep into the Gulf of Mexico, causing untold damage along the entire coastline. If we are to cope at all adequately with an emergency on this scale we will need to make preparations now. It may be necessary to take over an existing facility, such as a university campus, to house the homeless and to provide medical facilities. Insofar as it is possible, any such arrangements should be initiated discreetly in order to avoid public alarm.

  The President put the memo down. As he slid it back to the Vice-President it flashed briefly in a slice of afternoon sun that had fallen across the table.

  “It’s good, Chuck. Who wrote it?”

  “Pat Corcoran, in my office. It’s credible, because we’ve already had some bad hurricanes. And smaller ones have been forming in the Atlantic for weeks – that part’s true as well. The big one is a fiction, of course, but even the climate boys are not going to go on record to say it won’t happen. We’ll send it between two departments, maybe Homeland Security and Internal Affairs, and make sure it leaks. The Press will love it.”

  “Good, good.” He pointed at the paper. “This guy Corcoran doesn’t know the real reason you wanted the memo, does he?”

  “Hell, no. He doesn’t even know it’s going to be leaked.”

  “That’s fine. Chuck, the key thing in all of this is to put the preparations for the move in hand without anyone out there knowing the real reason.” He straightened up. “I’m sorry you had to come back to all this.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you, Harry, I didn’t think there could be any problems bigger than the ones I’ve been trying to wrestle with, the last two weeks. Boy, was I ever wrong.”

  The President’s lips twitched in an empathic smile. “What about the actual move?”

  “Ah yes. Are you still okay about Florida?”

  “It’s a no-brainer, Chuck. It’s about as far south as we can go. I’m not going to cross the border. That’d present a whole slew of political problems and that means delays, and we can’t afford delays. We could go further west, but what the hell for? It only makes the logistics of transport from Washington harder. Has anyone looked at a site yet?”

  “Yeah, they looked at several. University of Central Florida is the best. It’s a two-thousand-acre spread, well served by airports. It has a lot of modern high-rise buildings, enough to accommodate a pared-down version of the main government centres. We’ll tell them the entire campus has to be requisitioned for accommodation and emergency services. When this memo comes out they won’t be surprised. Indignant, maybe, but not surprised.”

  “Okay. They can transfer staff, students, and equipment to other universities in Florida and maybe Mississippi and Texas. We’ll move the police and National Guard in to concentrate their minds; the whole thing has to be done quickly. We’ll give them three days to clear out. With very few exceptions, any equipment or materials remaining after that will be disposed of. That’s the stick. Do we have a carrot?”

  “We can offer compensation to the host universities on a per capita basis. And the University of Central Florida’s been looking for funding for a Stem Cell Institute. We can drop hints to the Board that we’ll find the money from government sources when the present crisis is over. Of course, they’ll assume the crisis we’re referring to is the hurricane season. We won’t dissuade them from making that assumption.”

  “Okay.” The President pushed his chair back. “Is there any more paperwork we need to go over? If not, we can take a walk while we discuss the rest.”

  “A walk would be good. It’s a relief to be back in this climate after the Middle East. Damn, it was hot there.”

  The President got up and led the way out of the main lodge. They crossed the lawn onto a mulched path that meandered between the trees. The untroubled peace of the woodland seeped into them. The air, laden with the sweet smell of moist earth and vegetation, was cool in their lungs. For a few minutes they were content to walk in silence.

  The Vice-President inhaled deeply, then frowned.

  “Harry?”

  “Yes, Chuck.”

  “If there’s that much ammonia around how come we don’t notice it? The air here is as pure and clean as you could wish for.”

  “Chris Walmesley explained it to me. Ammonia is lighter than air so the bulk of it’s accumulating at high altitude. Right now it’s only the larger weather systems that stir it into the lower atmosphere. It’s building up all the time, though, so it’ll take less and less disturbance to bring it down. Eventually it won’t need anything at all: everywhere will be permanently blanketed with ammonia: town, countryside – even peaceful havens like this.”

  The Vice-President clucked his tongue, looking around him. One of the smaller lodges could be glimpsed between the trees.

  “Hard to believe it could happen, isn’t it? All this beautiful country, and not a soul left to walk in it, see it, enjoy it.”

  “We’re not dead yet, Chuck, we’re not dead yet.”

  They separated to walk around a thick branch brought down by recent gales. Then the President resumed.

  “Let’s get back to the planning. We dealt with evacuating that campus. Now we’ve got to make sure every key government department is ready to move into it. But no way are we going to take a convoy out of the capital – that would trigger an exodus from every major city in the country. What I want to do is set up a duplicate operation in Florida. When the time comes, we move the centre of gravity quickly and quietly from Washington to Florida.”

  “Another internal memorandum?”

  “Yes, but restrict this one to the highest level. Head it ‘White Smogs: Precautionary Action’. Then tell it like it is. There’s a distinct possibility that one of these white smogs will bring the capital to a halt and we have to plan accordingly.”
>
  “It’s a big job. How long do we have?”

  “Let’s see. We’re already at the end of May. A week? Two at the very outside, so mid June. They’ll say it’s impossible. The message is: Make it possible.”

  “Okay. A lot of the record-keeping’s paperless these days; that’ll make it easier. We could go one step further and transfer data from servers in the Washington area to data farms in Florida.”

  “Good thinking, let’s do that right away. These smogs seem to block up air conditioning systems; I’d feel better about it if the servers were in a low-risk area.”

  “Okay, I’ll get started on it as soon as we get back.” He glanced at the President. “I guess this isn’t just about white smogs, is it? You’re thinking about the Yellowstone option.”

  Kinghorn took a deep breath. “It’s our job to be prepared for everything, Chuck. That included.”

  They walked on another fifty yards, alone with their thoughts. The trees thinned and sunlight striped the path. The Vice-President looked up.

  “Can I ask you something, Harry? Could you really press that button?”

  The President sighed.

  “I honestly don’t know. You know, it would be something if I could evacuate the people from that area first, but I can’t. The scientists have been monitoring the supervolcano for years, day and night. There’s no question an eruption is on the cards but they know full well it’s not imminent. If we moved the population as a precaution it would expose the whole damned thing.”

  “There’d be serious casualties.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  “So you haven’t made a final decision yet?”

  “Look, I’ve seen the evidence: things are getting worse all the time. We need that biological solution as soon as possible, so we’ll move our expert groups to Florida right away and put a rocket behind them. And of course we’ll make all the preparations so we can move down there ourselves. But am I actually going to explode a nuclear warhead in the heart of the Yellowstone system?” He shook his head. “How does a person take a decision like that? If I press the button, thousands, maybe millions, of our own citizens will die. If I fail to press the button, everyone on Earth will die.”