by Les W Kuzyk
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Vince sat beside Tamanna across from André and Paul at a side table in the oval conference room. André keyed into his device, while Paul scrawled with a pen on a paper pad.
“We know something about global drone capacity,” Vince said. “We calculate the NATO drone fleet will be overloaded by the thousands of balloons we have ascending in any night time release. Like the barrage balloons cluttered the skies with cables and nets to damage dive bombers in the World Wars.”
André and Paul listened attentively.
“I am administering the Sahel region,” Tami said. “We will release enough to take care of most of North Africa, and the appropriate part of the ocean. Other HICCC global regions will be organized from other regional centres.” She paused. “Your Minister Kendall might wish to approach the HICCC directly after Canada delivers this message.”
André hammered at his keyboard, nodding.
“The negotiations have potential,” Tami said, shrugging and nodding. “They will, I believe, be centered on the maintenance of the HICCC ten year release schedule. On a positive note, if sulphur emissions are terminated, the atmosphere will gradually revert back to a natural state within a couple years, just as it did after the Pinatubo eruption. All of this would depend on measurable actions taken by the OECD.”
Paul scribbled furiously.
Absorbing the scene, Vince glanced away, his eye catching the flicker of a wing light on a window edge. He felt a soaring need to get up and dance. How inappropriate. But that tingle within would not stop swooping about, high among the sky-angel clouds within. Elation, to a power of who knows what fractal factor. A jet airliner was more enclosed than a balloon and certainly had less exposure than a paraglider, but this flight tonight felt so detached like a trip to the stars.
Stars, right he sighed, like his daughter’s wishing star. Yet in spite of all the fallout and chaos likely coming, this was what for sure he had needed to do. If not for his math angel, at least he had acted for his daughter. At least he had that.
His new found terror label closed in on the swirling euphoria as he leaned back in his seat, eyes closed. Annalise might need a lighter hazy blue crayon for the color of her near future sky. At least his face didn’t hurt anymore when the smile came, and that inner trembling whatever its source had gained growing room. He could almost feel his daughter sitting there next to him, her tiny hand in his.
The End
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Les W Kuzyk
About Les W Kuzyk
Although my writing career began with an academic thesis on Social Justice, and I have published academic papers, with time I have come to realize my preference for facts based speculative fiction. This novel seeks to warn and inform the human race as to how our climate crisis might unfold in a concerning manner. I maintain an Our Near Future website linked to climate change stores such as Blown Bridge Valley and Tribe 5 Girl that follow the Pinatubo II characters with all likelihood of a Pinatubo II novel series. I have also completed a near future speculative science fiction novel, The Shela Directive, soon to be published.
Discover other Writings by Les W Kuzyk
Our Near Future
Climate Fiction Short Stories
Blown Bridge Valley - Vince and daughter in 2037 Calgary
Tribe 5 Girl - Vince and daughter Annalise near 2047 in the Valley
Green Sahara - Alternate Pinatubo II ending
AlberTa’s Gift
Next Door Data
Storm Punchers
Other Short Stories
A Future History of the Environment
Other Novels
The Shela Directive
The Sandbox Theory
Connect with Les W Kuzyk