A large swathe of lighter coloured seawater ran parallel to the coast of the island. And it had not been there the previous day. She had never seen anything like it during all her time in Norway and was so transfixed by the unknown phenomenon that she failed to spot the danger creeping up behind her.
It moved swiftly across the tundra towards her, its large pad-like paws squelching through the small tundra plants under its starved frame. Its head was carried low to the ground as it moved, lifting it occasionally to sniff the scent of the biologist on the breeze.
The woman remained transfixed on the wide band of bleached water in front of her. Plankton bloom, maybe. No, don't be stupid, that is not possible. She had to get a closer look at it and decided to give the guillemots a miss and head back down to the rubber Zodiac. She looked up the slopes one last time and froze with fear.
The phantom creature was standing fifty meters above her, moving its head from side to side, contemplating its attack and with its known burst of speed, it could be on her in seconds.
‘HA…away!’ she screamed, waving her arms to try and scare it off.
The bear groaned out loud and drew more resolve from its elevated position so took another step towards her. Slipping the long Browning rifle from her shoulder, she chambered a round and switched the safety off.
The starving bear stopped, groaning as its nose filled with the scent of a possible meal. Turning its body slightly towards the woman, the huge animal lowered its head again. She raised the rifle and aimed at the rocks in front of his nose and squeezed the trigger as she had done on so many previous occasions. The bullet smashed into the rocks just in front of the bear’s nose, sending shards in all directions. The bear recoiled backwards, growling, and then turned away and ran over the hill.
Her heart was still thumping quickly in her chest when she turned back towards the ocean and began her descent to where the black Zodiac was moored. The incident with the bear drifted from her thoughts with possibilities of what could have caused the bizarre ocean discolouration.
***
Hours later she raised her hand, and the pilot of the rubber Zodiac eased off the throttle, and they slowed to a halt. Flipping open her waterproof case, she reached inside for five small plastic sample containers. Leaning over the side of the boat, she stared at the sea beneath them.
‘Bubbles!’ she said. ‘It’s bubbles, not plankton.’
Marine biologist Sigga Lauridsen was busy with her doctorate on the effects of climate change on the diminutive Brünnich’s Guillemot of the island, but her heart belonged to the ocean. An ocean full of mysteries. This was a real mystery.
Scooping out four samples of whatever the mysterious gas was, she quickly sealed the containers to trap the gas in the water. The water had no distinctive smell so she was not sure what gas it could be. Her mind raced through the possibilities, but nothing made any sense. ‘Let’s get back to the ship, Mika,’ she said. ‘And make it quick.’
Once back in her lab, she sat on a small stool in front the computer, going over the tide charts and weather patterns for any possible clues. Whatever it was, the sheer size of the event meant that it had to be a release that would have been triggered en masse.
‘It’s methane, Sigga,’ a voice behind her said, making her jump.
‘What! Are you sure?’ she asked her assistant. Sigga walked over to the lab bench where the samples had been placed into a larger sealed glass container with a portable manometer to determine the type and quantity of gas.
‘Without a doubt, and it’s in a very high concentration so I wouldn’t light a match in here,’ her assistant joked.
‘Jesus. This is dangerously high for an ocean release. Set up some standards right away so we can work on a two-week testing cycle before we alert anyone,’ Sigga said.
‘Sure thing. Do you think that we have a large-scale methane hydrate melt happening here?’
‘I don’t want to speculate really. The sea in this area is quite shallow, so I am not sure if someone has already done research around the island. We just don’t know if someone has mapped and accounted for all this methane in previous studies,’ Sigga replied.
‘But the readings we are getting must mean that it is more than an isolated pocket. This kind of release could have a marked impact on the planetary climate.’
‘Just hold on now. Science has proven that most of the mixture of methane gas and water that makes up the ice-like particles of methane hydrate, and that covers the ocean floor, would dissolve or be oxidised well before reaching the surface of the sea never mind making into the atmosphere. You would have learnt that at university.’
‘Of course, I did, but the sheer expanse of shallow seas around the planet that have not been explored to date poses a threat that more of these massive melts could occur.’
Sigga nodded. ‘There could just be more in the future.’
***
‘Good afternoon, Sigga, this is Professor Victor Greenway, chief scientist at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.’
‘Hello, Professor. I am of course familiar with all of your work,’ Sigga said. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I do apologise in advance for having to question your findings that have landed on my desk,’ he said, his voice sounding hollow over the ship’s satellite phone. ‘We need to make sure these astonishing results are correct and above question. Some of my colleagues are querying their validity because of the alarming weekly increase in the quantity of methane that you document as being released into the atmosphere.’
‘It’s quite all right, Professor, I expected pushback and doubt, which is why we have been meticulous in our testing and have actually over tested in most cases because of the alarming nature of the results. The numbers are shockingly high.’
‘High, is a bit of an understatement, Sigga. We have never seen levels like this in any ocean.’
‘What’s more worrying, Professor, is that the surface area we are talking about has expanded by a few square kilometres in the last week.’
‘That’s astonishing.’
‘It is now all you can see from the island we work from.’
‘Thank you, Sigga. May I ask that you keep the numbers coming on a weekly basis? Please send them to me directly from now on,’ he said.
***
‘Good Lord! It’s getting worse,’ Professor Greenway said and sat back in his chair, staring at his view of night-time Washington from his office, his thoughts drifting to his grandchildren. It was past midnight, and he was probably the last one left in the NOAA office. It had been two weeks since his last chat with Sigga, and he flipped over the latest aerial photograph, reading the pencilled notes on a white label - Greenland. It’s spreading to other parts of the planet. Time to alert the world.
Two days later, he felt the butterflies in his stomach as he stood at the metal lectern in the George Washington Lisner Auditorium. As he flicked through the images taken from an orbiting satellite, a discernible hush swept over his scientific colleagues in the auditorium. They were his peers from all over the world, and he had piqued their interest.
‘As many of you are well aware, I have long been outspoken about the dangers of the feedback effect methane could have on climate change and the warming of our planet. I now firmly believe that we have passed the point of no return and that we now find ourselves on a negative feedback loop. One which we will not be able to reverse.
‘Even though methane oxidises to become COTM after about a decade, it is this longer-lived oxidation product that I believe has caused the excessive atmospheric warming of the planet. Over the past two years, we have seen more unprecedented glacial melting resulting in the 0.5 m sea level rise that has started to wreak havoc in the lower lying areas of the planet.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the sea level rise will only worsen and although previously the estimated timeframe of between 2070 and 2150 has been our baseline for decades, I believe that there is enough evidence of an imminent c
limate change catastrophe and that the world must prepare itself for a two to three metre rise in the next five to ten years.’
Consternation erupted within the auditorium. A thin weasel of a man stood up and called him a delusional old man while others shouted that he had misinterpreted the facts. Fierce arguments broke out between attendees, with ushers having to pull them apart as they came to blows.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please,’ he shouted. ‘The statistics are here for all to study, along with the latest data to prove that the permafrost and Artic shelf methane hydrate melting is also getting worse, and it is accelerating as I speak.’
A figure at the back of the room calmly sat in his chair, paging through the thick dossier given to him when he walked in. He slowly shook his head at the facts that had been highlighted for his benefit by a confidential source in the NOAA. It didn’t matter if the professor believed it would happen in the following five to ten years, or if the catastrophe happened in the next fifty years, for that matter. The fact was it was going happen, and there was nothing they could do to reverse it.
The short slim-figured man stood up and walked out of the auditorium, then he dialled a number on his mobile phone.
‘Lord Butler, it’s Dr Watanabe.’
‘Hello, Doctor,’ Lord Butler replied.
‘The catastrophic event we have been predicting seems to be well underway. I recommend we call together an urgent meeting of the Grand Founders. There is a lot to discuss.’
Chapter 42
Canary Wharf, London, England, UK - 2019
The new offices of the Phoenix Council were located at the top of the popular and iconic HSBC building in Canary Wharf, London. Lady Winterton had been unanimously elected as the first chairperson of the Council after Lord Butler had endorsed her candidacy. No one voted against him.
Standing behind the lectern, she welcomed everyone. ‘Like everyone here, I know that we don't have a lot of information behind the reason for this urgent meeting, but Dr Watanabe has new critical data that Lord Butler felt had to be shared with the group as a matter of urgency. Doctor, it's over to you.’
The slim and smartly dressed Dr Watanabe stood up from his plush leather seat alongside Lord Butler and walked around the large mahogany table where they were all seated to the ornate lectern that had been placed at the head of the table. Shuffling a few pages around, he cleared his throat. ‘Good afternoon, everyone, I have just returned from an emergency meeting called by Professor Greenway of the NOAA with alarming news about an imminent climatic catastrophe.’
A low murmur broke out amongst the members.
‘The Greenway report has shown incontrovertible evidence taken from two large sites, that we have entered a phase of irreversible methane emission which will dramatically increase the global temperature resulting in a colossal ice melt in the north and south glacial areas. All of this means that our oceans will rise to devastating levels.’
‘How do we know this not just another doom and gloom computer projection?’ Lady Winterton asked.
‘You have answered your own question, Madam Chairman. Everything before this was based on projection, forecast and computer modelling. This report is based on pure science. We need to make the necessary changes to our strategies and accelerate all of our plans immediately.’
‘These scientists have been wrong before,’ Lady Winterton asked. ‘How do we know that these findings are sound?’
‘I have looked over their analysis and findings. I deem them to be correct. We are passed the point of no return with the climate and cannot reverse the downward spiral we now find ourselves in. With the average temperature rising, colossal glacial melting will be imminent in Greenland and the Antarctic Region. The sea-level will rise by a minimum of two meters which will decimate low-lying habituated areas around the world. Professor Greenway estimates a three and a half meter rise as most realistic.’
‘But if that is the case, it means cities like New York, Los Angeles, most cities in Florida, California, cities in Bangladesh and even European cities will be flooded,’ Jürgen Kohler, the Grand Founder from Germany said.
‘And don’t forget about London,’ Lord Butler said.
‘Yes, all of those cities are in danger of permanent flooding or, at least, being decimated by the daily tidal surges. What’s more, a number of climate change refugees who will look to migrate from those low lying areas to safer cities and towns on higher ground will cause major social and economic problems,’ Dr Watanabe continued.
‘You are correct, Dr Watanabe. It will result in chaos and unrest in all of those areas on a magnitude never seen before on this planet,’ Lord Butler said. ‘Can we trust these timescales if we decide to change our strategies?’
‘We've known about these issues for decades, Lord Butler, and they have gradually been getting worse,’ Dr Watanabe replied. ‘These latest developments were predictable.’
‘To cut our timeframes and change our strategies so dramatically would be unachievable,’ Lady Winterton said.
‘In the end, the timescales are irrelevant. It will happen, of that I am convinced. Let’s not find ourselves in the same situation as the crew of the Titanic, standing on the deck, arguing about how quickly the ship is going to sink. In the end, the result was the same, it sank. We need to get ahead of the game.’
Lord Butler laughed and nodded his head. ‘Okay, Doctor, point taken. Now, what do you propose?’
‘Well, I believe that whatever remains of global governments will attempt to control the effects of the sea level rise like the population displacement, changes in temperature, food production and health. They will fail to prioritise nuclear plants, oil refineries and desalination plants built at sea level that will be flooded and cease to produce much of our needed energy. It is that energy that will drive everything else.
‘So I suggest our priority should be to secure all the inland energy production facilities as these will still continue to produce and, therefore, earn those controlling them untold wealth, and more importantly, power. We also need to control all closed coal mines as these will attract attention from smaller businessmen looking to make money from the coal resurgence. In essence, all facilities that are set at about fifty to one hundred meters above sea level are the ones that we need to own and control.'
‘What about wind farms?’ Lord Butler asked.
‘Any onshore wind farm that is above one hundred and fifty meters needs to be included in our strategy. All offshore wind farms will be destroyed over time as the maintenance costs will render them redundant,’ Dr Watanabe replied.
Lord Butler nodded. ‘May I suggest that the highest priority action step we need to take is the acceleration of the recruitment and arming of our Phoenix Guard? We already have fourteen well-trained units deployed at the moment, and by the sound of it, we will probably need twenty to thirty times more during the next ten years.’
‘Agreed, Lord Butler,’ Lady Winterton said. ‘As a second action may I suggest, Dr Watanabe, that you draw up a comprehensive global list of nuclear plants and other resources you mentioned which won’t be flooded and will still be functional. We need to focus on those.’
Andrei Kirilenko sat quietly, listening to the rest of his fellow Grand Founders discuss the pending crisis. With a thick Russian accent, he finally spoke. ‘We will have problems with swift recruitment.’
‘Andrei, you told me it was all under control,’ Lord Butler frowned.
‘Because of the changed timelines, it will be difficult to recruit enough men conditioned and trained to move on so many possible targets all at once.’
‘Okay, so what do you think needs to be done to ensure that we are in a position to take control of these resources?’ Jürgen Kohler asked.
‘In Russia in the nineties, the oligarchs helped secure valuable assets and enforce local law and order in their own regions. The FSB denied that they were working together, but I can assure you that the oligarchs assisted them in return for untold riche
s. I can attest to that fact as you know,’ the ex-FSB director said.
‘Andrei, you are not seriously suggesting that we establish a working relationship with gang lords and other mafia type thugs, are you?’ Lady Winterton said. ‘I am not sure that would be a good direction to take. How would we control and influence them to deliver on our interests?’
‘I have already been in contact with one such man who, along with his two brothers, leads a powerful gang in London called the Asylum Road Boyz,’ Andrei said.
‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ Lady Winterton interrupted.
‘Let me finish, please,’ Andrei said. ‘I have had two meetings with the leader Thompson Scott or Tom Scott as he is called. He and his family now control most of the criminal activities in central London, having eliminated most of the rival gangs over the past five years. He would be happy to serve as a type of warlord of London for us.’
‘This is not some damn computer game, Andrei,’ Lady Winterton said. ‘If we give these types of people an inch, what’s stopping them from taking over?’
‘Well, he would represent us and help enforce law and order at street level as long as we overlook some of his dealings and allow him to continue to trade in certain banned substances. Not a bad deal.’
‘I still don’t like it as a concept,’ she replied. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘Let’s not be too hasty in dismissing this idea,’ Lord Butler interjected. ‘I think that it is something we will have to look at, Lady Winterton. I know that it seems contrary to the way we have all been brought up. But if Dr Watanabe is correct about the chaos that will ensue in the very near future, I think that having streetwise men acting as a second-line militia to support the Phoenix Guard in cities around the world, is a credible solution to our recruitment problems. Just think, they can perform some of the less savoury tasks while we can maintain our image of looking after the last of the world’s resources in a respectable fashion.’
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