by Randy Dutton
“Hear me out, Sir.” Dowell advanced the video report to one of the failed engines. “When the UN passed the Carbon Law, our aircraft manufacturers lost sales because of higher fuel prices. To adapt to the new reality of Fuzz and reduced visibility, parts of planes now need to be redesigned to protect engines from clogging and pilots to fly without seeing.”
“So our industry benefit from the retrofits?”
“I’ve been in discussion with some of your political contributors in the industry. They’ve designed an engine intake manifold that prevents Fuzz strands from being ingested by the engines and radars that penetrate through the stuff.”
“And the cost?”
“A few million per commercial jet and only raises fuel consumption by five percent.”
“Do we have a choice?”
“Not really, Sir.”
“Schedule a meeting and fast track any legislation we need to mandate the retrofits. If Congress balks, write up an Executive Order.” For the first time since before his cabinet meeting, the President showed the first glimmer of a smile.
Chapter 69
November 1, 1200 hours
Heyward House
Grays Harbor County, WA
The black-haired beauty twirled in the empty great room. The feathered ends of her wig flared out just below her shoulders. With outstretched arms sweeping through the empty space she was catching beams of light casting from the high entrance windows. “I love how the sunlight brightens the walls,” she said with breathless enthusiasm. Her spin ended in front of the large fireplace.
“With you as the focal point, the cut glass windows create a nice light show,” Pete responded affectionately while watching Seattle delivery men carry in new furniture through the double-doors.
“I’m glad to be settling in.” Anna stretched and kissed Pete on the cheek, leaving dark red lipstick marks. As one man walked in with an antique chair her finger pointed to a corner next to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
She whispered, “If I’m going to hide from the world...I want a view and great light.”
“Next comes your desk,” Pete pointed the destination to two guys carrying a large mahogany desk.
Through large-framed non-prescription glasses, Anna’s eyes scanned the front room. “Honey, do you want to share my office?”
He stepped through the interior French doors into the large south-facing room. “I thought you’d have this. I’ll take the den in the back corner.”
“Nonsense!” Her hand snatched his. “I like your company. You’ll be gone most of the day teaching or doing research, so I’ll be alone in the office most of the time anyway. And there are those long trips the university has planned for you. There’s no reason to be apart when you’re home.”
Her eyes narrowed, but her mouth revealed amusement. “Why? Do you want be alone?”
“No...no, of course not! I’d love to share it with you. I just know how you’ll spread out and consume all the working space.”
Her brow lifted in mock protest.
He realized the mistake. “Yes...we’ll share. Babe, I’ll adapt. Besides, I like that the office opens to the center of the house.”
“Good...it’s settled!” She turned to study the doors and windows. “Next, we’ll replace the glass and add storm windows, and reinforce the doors—”
“W-h-y?”
Her eyes ensured privacy and the smile vanished. “Security. The house needs to look normal. But if anyone figures I’m here, I want an edge to deter sniper shots or intrusion.”
“I don’t think—”
Her voice turned stern. “Pete. Go with me on this! I know what I’m doing.”
He exhaled deeply. “Yes, that was part of the deal.” He shrugged, and kissed her forehead. “Whatever you think is necessary is fine with me.”
Her mouth upturned. “I thought you’d be accommodating.... I’m also going to replace the overhead lights with FIPELs.”
“What are those?”
“Field-induced polymer electroluminescence....”
Pete’s brows furrowed.
She explained. “It’s a new polymer light that’s very efficient, shatterproof, and gives me full spectrum light.”
“Full spectrum?”
She held out pale arms. “In this rainforest I don’t expect to see the real sun most of the year.”
“Light therapy? You expect to get seasonal affective disorder?” His brow narrowed. “Is this another canary trap?” He chuckled, then pursed his lips when her serious expression didn’t change. “Sure. By all means.”
“Good. Besides, it’ll allow me to install a Li-Fi network.”
“You mean Wi-Fi?”
Her smile broadened. “Uh uh. Li-Fi uses lights flashing at a nanosecond rate to pass communication. It’s more intrusion resistant than Wi-Fi.”
“You know, Babe. I’m more paranoid with you around.”
“Good!”
Walking into the seven-meter high great room, she looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows to the distant forested hills, their Fuzz-laced branches giving the forest an ethereal appearance. “This big hearth and tall ceiling gives us a great space for family celebrations. I can’t wait to find the perfect Christmas tree.”
Just like MacKenzie, he fondly recollected. His eyes crinkled in reference to the story he had told Anna the day after she had captured him surveilling her from the wooded fringe. There on her villa’s patio they had traded personal history and interests unrecorded in each other’s dossiers. What had started that morning in France as mutual infatuation had cascaded by nighttime into a bonding of kindred spirits and physical attraction. By the next morning, their need for each other trumped all other considerations.
Still focused on the forest, she said, “Think we’ll be able to convince your family to visit?”
From behind, his arms wrapped around her expanded waist. “Our family...and, absolutely!”
She purred at the inclusion, and turned into his kiss. With his eventual release, she stepped to the just-positioned Schimmel grand piano and sat down and played an arpeggio. She closed the keyboard. “Hmmm...needs tuning...and the slate floor throws off the acoustics. It’ll have to do...for now.” She made another full twirl. “I guess this is the new normal...our family nest.”
Her finger pointed to the center of the great room as two men carried in a new sofa.
By now, Pete now was unpacking a case of new dishes. She came up to him and said, “Your lack of furniture is a real benefit. I don’t have to talk you into throwing out junk you’re attached to.”
“Other than my parent’s house, I’ve always lived in furnished apartments or a dorm...or a military base. Shame we couldn’t have brought over your furniture and art from France. You had some fantastic pieces.”
Her expression turned pouty. “The style wouldn’t work here.... I hope the lawyer did as instructed with my stuff.”
Seeing the delivery men had finished, he handed out generous tips and closed the front door behind them.
They slid the sofa into position in front of the fireplace, and she plopped down.
“Did you have a lot of jewelry?” He sat next to her and gently removed her nonprescription glasses. “I missed that part of your past. Other than our wedding, I’ve never seen you really dressed up...except for Internet society photos and paparazzi videos.”
She unpinned the wig, shook her head, and raked her cascading hair with long fingers, then responded, “Yeah, I have some pretty baubles. Some were given to me by”—her eyes shifted up through loose strands—“acquaintances.”
Pete’s mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed. “You mean had, don’t you?”
“Well...” Her lips pulled in but the corners turned up. Her face angled down but she kept eye contact.
“You still have them?!”
She nodded slowly. “They’re in a Swiss safety deposit box under a false name. The rent’s been paid for 20 years. Come on, Pete. A girl doesn’t give up her j
ewelry willingly!” Her lips widened.
He brushed the hair out of her eyes. “And what do you intend to do with them?”
“I’ve got 20 years to figure that out, don’t I?” she mused. “Maybe if we have a daughter she’ll get them.”
“Depends upon if you’re still being hunted, and the pieces are traceable.” Pete grumbled and rose to light a fire in the fireplace.
“Maybe a granddaughter?” She played with her wedding ring and smiled, then headed to the open kitchen to make lunch.
His head shook while reaching for the remote. “I worry you haven’t made a full break from your past.”
“TV?”
“I’m turning on the news. We’ve been so busy shopping the past few days. It’s time for a break.”
“I married a news junkie.” She grimaced in mock dismay.
“When my wife’s actions make headlines, I’m interested,” he lovingly retorted. “You keep too many secrets. And I’m never quite sure when some will pop up.” He turned on the pre-recorded satellite news.
“This is Jill Brent of Global Heartbeat Network. Today is November 1, and here is the news.”
A video clip showed Russian officials meeting with Americans in front of a floor-to-ceiling map of Alaska. “Today marks receipt of Russia’s third installment, with a balance of $800 billion remaining.”
A bilingual sign with Russian on top was being installed on the statehouse. With that as a backdrop, Jill continued, “An anonymous source says Russian resource officials, now embedded within the Alaskan government, are reviewing all past mining and oil projects that have been blocked by US government regulations. Our source claims a mining and oil boom is likely as Russia begins the extraction process. Asked about this, the Russian Ministry of Resources demanded to know the internal source and flatly refused to acknowledge the report. He added, the Russian government will adhere to the UN’s environmental policies as they understand them.”
“As they understand them,” Pete mocked after muting the broadcast. “Shorthand for ‘screw you, UN’.”
Anna reached over and unmuted it.
“The Russian Ministry of Transportation yesterday issued a preliminary contract to a Russian company to design the Eurasia-America Transport Link incorporating the Levx System technology.”
The screen filled with an animated Levx track overlaid with a route.
“The proposed route is yet to be determined, but Russian officials said it will take the shortest possible path consistent with Russian environmental regulations. When questioned whether established US environmental regulations would be followed, the official had no comment.
“The US Department of Labor has revised its estimate of Alaskans desiring relocation downward to 210,000. A local labor expert said many workers are encouraged by the increased prospect of resource-related jobs in Alaska. Many are claiming they’d rather work for a living than take the resettlement check and remain unemployed in the US.”
On screen were long lines of unemployed men and women in Chicago.
“In employment news, the official US unemployment rate hit 18.3% in response to the growing numbers of shuttered energy companies and industries reliant on energy. Rising fuel prices are credited with dropping tourism numbers.”
Anna carried two plates of chicken sandwiches and fruit, and sat next to Pete while a video of African poor receiving food handouts played on the screen.
Next on screen came a population line chart that showed six down-sloping lines, each representing a populated continent. A dark red line had a particularly precipitous drop below a blue horizontal line.
“Global population experts say the birth rate in Africa has plunged to well below replenishment rates caused in part by a sudden fertility drop. Chemical exposure experts blame the pesticides in mosquito nets as a possible cause. Over the past decade, nearly all sub-Saharan African women have been sleeping underneath these nets. Asked if the effect is temporary, one fertility expert said that for some it may be irreversible, and for others, there might be an increase in birth defects. UN officials quickly responded they will provide free abortion services to women suspected of carrying damaged fetuses. Meanwhile, several foundations have announced willingness to provide fetal reductions through the use of new abortion drugs, which they claim will reduce costs and the suffering of women. A spokesperson said these procedures are necessary to ensure the health of Africa by eliminating defects from the gene pool. She added that this will augment the available after-birth abortions used to reduce potential societal burdens. Church groups decried the UN action, calling such actions infanticide.
“In a related story, biologists have linked infertility and increased malnutrition to the altered genetic composition of biofuel seed crops. They claim that these feedstocks were never meant to be eaten and so were designed specifically to enable them to be converted to fuel quickly and easily. However, an expert close to the situation confided that the UN contract for the last few biofuel feedstock variants included a secret covenant that rewarded bidders that included human sterilants in their products’ genetic composition. The UN has issued a provisional arrest warrant for the whistleblower—”
Pete hit the DVR pause button when he saw Anna’s sad expression. “What’s wrong?”
Her glassy eyes lifted to his. “Know why I was...a bit off...when you came into my life?” She was wistful.
“I’m sensing a link to the news report,” Pete ventured.
“I had a conversation a few days earlier about the Malthusians’ intent. Until then, their goals hadn’t connected with me.”
Her lips tightened and then she put down her sandwich and stroked her belly. She smiled. “Now it really hits home.”
She took Pete’s sandwich out of his right hand. With her left hand, she placed his hand on her belly.
His brow rose.
“Just wait.” Her smile was coy.
Heartbeats later, he smiled in wonderment. “Wow, our baby’s got quite the kick!” He put his ear to her stomach, then kissed her.
Anna handed him back his sandwich, leaned her head on his shoulder, and pressed play.
“In energy news, most of the developing world now is biofuel self-sufficient with villages everywhere having at least one homemade bioreactor.”
An image appeared of a Congolese town shrouded in smog.
“As a consequence, climatologists say fuel evaporation rates in these regions are extremely high, thus increasing atmospheric concentrations of volatile organic compounds. The World Health Organization reports respiratory illnesses at epidemic rates and rising quickly across most of Africa, Asia, and South America.”
On screen, droves of laborers were carrying bundles of sticks to a smoky shack while others walked out with biofuel jugs.
“Biologists report that much of the biofuel is being used by villagers to fuel vehicles needed to cut and haul biomass for the reactors in a self-perpetuating circle of harvesting to create fuel for more harvesting. This is dramatically reducing local ground cover and increasing dust storms.
“These same climatologists say the harvesting of biomass will contribute to the continuing increase of CO2 emissions caused by what they call the carbon debt.”
Anna kicked off her shoes, smiled hopefully, put her feet onto Pete’s lap and wiggled her toes. He took the clue and started massaging her feet.
The report continued, “...a result of CO2 released by rotting roots and buried organic material from cleared land. UN officials report major, violent skirmishes between villages over land rights where biomass concentrations are located. In many areas, UN officials had to be evacuated to avoid being caught up in the bloodshed.
“In carbon news, oil prices dropped as biofuel floods the supply system. Fuel depots are reporting quality problems that are harming the engines of existing vehicle fleets. Problems include significant contamination, microbial growth within the fuels, poor consistency of fuel molecules, and varying vapor and burn temperatures.
&
nbsp; “The UN Department of Atmosphere today confirmed that Fuzz now has been found across the globe. And concentrations are increasing, particularly in humid areas. Asked for a comment, Snath Genetics VP of Public Relations, Charles Smith, had none. When questioned about the location of Snath Genetics President Dr. Johansson, we were again told, ‘no comment.’
“The UN Department of Sustainable Agriculture has just released a statement that claims Fuzz is a great success. When asked if it has escaped its intended containment systems, one UN official told us, quote, ‘Fuzz is a cost-saving benefit for all mankind and will continue to scrub out CO2 without further need of financial remuneration to the Snath Group.’”
“Swanson must be having a conniption about now,” Anna mused.
“Maybe losing the contracts will be the straw that breaks his back,” Pete added.
Anna pursed her lips. Her eyes widened at the next video clip. “That’s odd.”
An aerial video showed what initially appeared to be grayish-green, barren islands, each surrounded by a several-kilometer-wide band of light green water. A research ship was pushed into the edge of a large island. A dozen people were trudging across the piled-up mass.
“In a second report titled, ‘Fuzz in the Ocean,’ marine biologists report city-block-size mats, often piled meters high from wave action. As you can see, a phytoplankton bloom surrounds each island.”
Another video clip showed underwater particle clouds slowly drifting downward.
“Researchers in deep submersibles have found carbon layers on the seafloor several centimeters thick across most of their research grids. When analyzed, scientists reported the layers as nutrient deficient. Environmentalists around the world hailed these latest reports as a vindication of their decades-long efforts to reduce CO2. Many of them have been actively lobbying the Nobel Committee to recognize the achievement.”
“And now a short public service announcement about mulching plastic—”
She clicked pause and turned to him. “Pete, what are the implications?”