Glass Sky

by Niko Perren

  Ruth groaned. “A friend is investigating, but it might just remain a mystery. Ethiopia’s a figment of the UN’s imagination. There’s no land registry. Two warlords claim the presidency.” She popped in a synthetic salmon roll and settled against the rock with a satisfied “mmmm,” opening to the sun’s warmth. “What has you so wound up? You nearly outbiked me.”

  An eagle, wings motionless, spiraled slowly, rising on some hidden thermal.

  “I’m going to create that longterm plan for the shield,” said Tania.

  Ruth jolted up. “Tengri gave permission?”

  “Not exactly,” said Tania.

  “Ahh. So you gave yourself permission,” said Ruth.

  “Yeah,” said Tania. “It feels pretty unethical, though. And if this goes wrong, I could go to jail for embezzlement.” She told Ruth about her meeting with Tom Lane. “The good news is I’ve already got the whole team lined up. There’s some great talent out there that’s keen to work on this problem.”

  Ruth stared at her, mouth hanging open. “This is a total shock. I’m proud of you.” She clapped Tania on the shoulder. “And don’t feel guilty. You’re using environmental funds where they have the highest impact. That’s not unethical. It’s heroic. No different than the doctors who used to risk prison to provide marijuana to cancer patients.”

  “What if I wake up one day and find myself surrounded by people like Tom?” asked Tania. “What if I lose my sense of where the line is?”

  “I still feel bad every time I do an action,” said Ruth. “I hate the destruction. And what if I hurt somebody? A night janitor that wasn’t on the employee list. When we stop feeling guilty, that’s when we need to worry.”

  “When we stop feeling guilty, we’re past the point of return,” said Tania.

  Ruth’s smile faded. “Yeah. There is that.” She closed her eyes to the sun. “Have you thought of a name yet? ‘Long Term Shield Plan’ is way too boring.”

  “I’ll let the team pick a name,” said Tania.

  “Please, no,” moaned Ruth. “I’d rather have my fingernails pulled than name something by committee. Name it yourself. Believe me, they’ll thank you.”

  “Wow, don’t hold back your opinions…”

  “You must have some ideas,” prompted Ruth.

  Years ago, Tania had spent an agonizing day brainstorming a name for one of Earthsayer’s education initiatives. Of the names they’d rejected, one had stayed with her, waiting for the right project. Is this what parents feel like when they float a baby name to their friends?

  “Spit it out,” said Ruth.

  “Pax Gaia.” Tania watched Ruth’s face for a reaction. “Too pretentious?”

  Ruth laughed. “If I don’t like it, I’ll get drafted onto the naming committee. Pax Gaia. After the Pax Romana, right? Make peace with Earth, but enforce if necessary. Pax Gaia. We could work with that.”

  “We?” asked Tania.

  “Of course we. You’re shutting down UNBio preserves. You’re stealing money from the UN to pay for your research. And if Pax Gaia is any good, it’ll offend the entire political establishment.” Ruth rolled her eyes. “You’re going to need some help.”

  Chapter 25

  THREE MONTHS PASSED. Spring turned to summer. Earth swept around the sun, bringing the northern hemisphere in permanent sunshine even as Antarctica fell into darkness. The vast grasslands of the Arctic blazed with flowers as millions of birds descended on their summer nesting grounds. There had been hundreds of millions once, not so many years ago, but each spring fewer returned from the farms, cities, and burned out swamps of the tropics. One day, perhaps, there would be none – the great flocks gone like the carrier pigeons that had once darkened the sky in numbers impossible to count.

  The long hours of summer sunlight spawned vast plankton blooms in the northern oceans. Once upon a time huge schools of fish had fed on the bounty, the ocean turned silver with life. Whales had swum here too; polar bears had hunted on the ice. But now the only life was the cargo barges hauling ore out of the once-frozen north, and the military vessels guarding the fishing grounds in the desperate hope that it might still be possible to reverse the annihilation.

  Millions of humans swarmed out of their cities – to the countryside, to mountains, to lakes, to beaches. It would be another summer for the record books.

  ***

  Green Army Email

  [verified]

  July 10, 2050

  Green army is joining environmental groups worldwide for a global day of protest at tomorrow’s UN Climate Summit. Temperature records have been shattered across the globe. The Nanoglass shield is stalled by technical difficulties. Yet the human cost of sulfuring again would be catastrophic. Earth needs us more than ever. Yet rather than uniting to face these problems, the UN is bickering and divided.

  It’s time to demand leadership. It’s time to demand a longterm plan for saving our planet.

  ***

  Tania stood at the top of the carpeted stairway leading down into the UN General Assembly hall.

  Have I really been in this job five months? February’s meeting in the sculpture garden with Khan Tengri seemed like yesterday. Yesterday, a lifetime ago. So much had changed. Instead of rubberstamping self-audits from corrupt regional governments, UNBio was back in the verification business, hammering skeptics with undisputable numbers. And active preserve management was back too: from increased poaching patrols, to invasive species removal, to irrigation, to breeding programs. She could almost feel the growing passion in her team. They were important again. They had a sense of purpose.

  Yet it would all be for nothing without a longterm strategy for the postshield world. Without Pax Gaia. Using kickbacks and stolen funds, she’d managed to hire the consultants she needed. And together, they’d mapped out the boundaries of the narrow path forward. How to slash CO2 and bring Earth back to balance. And how to best use the shield to not only save lives, but protect the parts of Earth that were still worth protecting.

  So much is riding on this speech. I have to convince the UN to unite. And I have to convince them that UNBio is best positioned to create a plan. I can’t work on this in secret anymore. We’re out of time.

  Many delegates had already taken their seats; the remainder gathered in small knots, talking in murmurs, as if speaking too loudly would give substance to their fears. They also knew what was at stake. They’d seen the longrange forecasts. Seen alltime temperature records incinerated as the sulfur wore off. The occasion’s importance resonated off the walls of the building, and in the chants of the massive crowds gathered outside.

  Khan Tengri gripped Tania’s arm. “Remember our plan,” he whispered. “You hammer home CO2 cuts and science. And let me handle the political battles. I’ll do everything I can to get some support behind that longterm climate plan you want to create.”

  I’m such a coward. I’ve had every chance to tell him that I’ve already got Pax Gaia started. If he finds out from someone else… But before she could confess, the warning bell sounded and with a final bustle of noise the stragglers found their seats.

  “Good luck,” said Tengri.

  Tania stepped into the cavernous hall. Wall murals played an evershifting homage to the glory of nature: rain forests, coral reefs, deserts, glaciers. On the vaulted ceiling, animated clouds drifted across a brilliant sky, the light subtly echoing their progress, so realistic that Tania struggled to make out any physical structure behind the imagery.

  She descended the stairs and climbed the short ramp onto the stage. The artificial sky darkened, pale clouds drifting across a starry backdrop. Reporters crowded for position in the press balcony.

  Tania tapped the microphone. I wasn’t expecting to be this nervous. She focused on an earnest Asian woman in the second row. Myanmar perhaps? Breathe. I’ll do fine. Just get past the first minute.

  “Four months ago, we began work on a shield to tame the worst ravages of our climate.” Her voice was quiet at first, but gained
resonance as she found her confidence. “This shield will allow the 8 billion humans on this planet to find a balance with our natural world. But will we seize this opportunity? Today we decide. Today we make choices that will ripple through a thousand generations.”

  Images blossomed on the screen: rockets spewing plumes of white sulfur, the melting Antarctic, drought victims in India, the drowned streets of Venice. Iconic pictures, bordering on emotional manipulation. The final picture showed the UN Climate Summit in 2040, smiling politicians lined up to create the Climate Council and approve the Emergency Sulfur Plan. Many of the same faces were still in the crowd today.

  “When we launched the first sulfur rockets ten years ago, we promised to balance geoengineering with CO2 cuts, so that natural processes could take back the climate control role we had been forced into. But our ability to cool the planet artificially created a moral hazard. It seemed like we had fixed our problems. Why worry about the underlying causes? So we kept adding CO2, and we kept turning up the sulfur levels to compensate. CO2. Sulfur.” Tania clasped her hands together. “Two freight trains, pulling the planet in opposite directions, with us fueling both of them.”

  “Something broke.” She let her hands snap apart. “We saw the consequences.”

  More images. Stick thin children. Piles of dead refugees scattered in front of China’s electrified border fence. Withered fields. Tania found the Indian Prime Minister’s unmistakable splash of floral color in the crowd. Caught her eye.

  “Today, we risk repeating these mistakes. If we continue with our current emission trajectory, the CO2 forcing will overwhelm our new shield’s capabilities within ten years. And then we will face ruin. Food stocks are depleted. A planetary mass extinction is in progress.”

  Tania let the screens go blank and stepped clear of the podium, so that nothing would stand between her and her audience. “Our only responsible course of action – our only sane course of action – is to unite behind a longterm vision” – Pax Gaia – “of our postshield future. Dropping CO2 levels from 495 parts per million back to the historical safe level of 350 is a start. But we must also renew our commitment to our natural areas. To the UNBio preserves. We share this planet, not just with our fellow humans, but with an astonishing array of life. Against all odds, we’ve been given one last opportunity to save it.”

  ***

  After the applause died down, Tania took her place next to Khan Tengri. Like most of the delegates he had his scroll extended out to tablet size, taking advantage of every free second to manage his endless bombardment of communications. At times during the speech, Tania had felt as if she were talking to herself. Yet the enthusiastic reaction had left her jubilant.

  “Do you think I had an impact?”

  “You were fantastic,” said Tengri. “But politics is unpredictable.”

  Below them the Indian Prime Minister took the stage. She was a short, doughy, cinnamon-colored ball, protruding more out of the podium’s narrow sides than over the top. “I speak on behalf of my honorable colleagues in the twenty monsoon nations,” she intoned, reading the words off her scroll. “We support Doctor Black’s call for CO2 reductions. But we have learned the hard way that we cannot count on the international community. As a precondition for our cooperation in CO2 cuts, we insist that the United States and China transfer control of the shield to the United Nations.”

  If Presidents Juarez and Lui were moved by the cheers, they gave no indication. “Is this what you expected?” Tania whispered to Tengri.

  “This is good,” Tengri whispered, twisting his beard. “The US and China can’t cut CO2 themselves, because they’re carbon negative already. So they need to cooperate with the rest of the world to preserve the usefulness of the shield. Which loosens their monopoly over the climate.”

  Another speaker stood up. Mbani, the South African president. He provided more words of support. So far, so good.

  Then the Canadian Prime Minister, Rob Thompson, took the podium amid a chorus of boos. Tania felt pessimism’s dark tentacles stirring. Now the opponents of progress will speak. Thompson considered his audience over his bushy white moustache. “I see the coffee is starting to take,” he said, pointing at the delegates walking out on him. Tania gritted her teeth, bracing for Thompson’s traditional attempt to poison the negotiations.

  “It’s been sixty years since Earth’s climate was in balance,” said Thompson, stepping away from the podium to engage the audience directly. “Too much time has passed. The world has moved on. We cannot restore Earth to what it was, and it makes no sense to try. Many countries, Canada included, have labored long and hard to adjust to our new world.”

  “Labored long and hard? You got new shipping lanes and a longer growing season,” shouted the representative from Sri Lanka.

  The Canadian smiled, nodding at the man as if to thank him for his comment. “Canada recognizes the peril of our current path. In the interest of international cooperation, we join the calls for a CO2 cut. And in the interest of future cooperation, we call on the United States and China to hand the shield over to the United Nations. It’s time to work together.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by confused applause. The artificial sky brightened, indicating a break. The rising crowd obscured Tania’s view of the podium. Two rows down, President Juarez exchanged words with President Lui, her head jerking in angry bird movements.

  “What dark magic is this?” Tania asked Tengri. “After fifty years, the Canadians are supporting a climate deal? We’ve almost got a consensus.”

  “Every country has its own motivations,” said Tengri. “Many are terrified of giving the US and China control of the climate. The CO2 cut is their bargaining tool. Others have more… complicated reasons. A very few are even doing it because it’s right.”

  “But Canada?” asked Tania.

  Tengri beamed. “I told you diplomacy has a pace. I’ve been busy, Tania.”

  “But how?”

  “I convinced Prime Minister Thompson that Canada was on the wrong side of an unwinnable issue. Canadians are tired of telling everyone they’re from New Zealand.” He leaned in. “The sweeteners were a fucking nightmare, though. Canadians have strict campaign finance laws. I can’t hand them cash like I can Americans.” He looked around the hall. “A lot of money changed hands in the last few months.”

  “So you bribed him,” said Tania.

  “I leveled the playing field,” said Tengri. “Most politicians will do the right thing if we can drown out the devil-whispers in their ears. I brought in my own lobbyists. Solar companies. Biotech firms. Prime Minister Thompson will take a lucrative consulting role with a CO2-scrubbing company when he leaves office.”

  Tengri’s words hollowed out Tania’s sense of victory. It felt like watching the Seattle Mariners beat the Beijing Red Socks in the World Series. By cheating.

  “Don’t look so glum,” said Tengri. “The end justifies the means right? CO2 cuts are our foot in the door. The cuts will require largescale environmental coordination. And since none of these countries trust each other, they’ll have no choice but to invite UNBio to act as a neutral party. By this time tomorrow, the US and China will be asking you to create your longterm plan.”

  Here’s my chance to tell him. “Ummm – speaking of the end justifying the means… You should probably know that I already started working…”

  But Tengri’s attention had turned to the approaching Chinese President.

  “Secretary General, Doctor Black.” Lui Xing Tao gave a tight smile. “We must talk.”

  ***

  The morning’s crowd of protesters had swelled into a human ocean lapping at the UN compound’s perimeter. From Tengri’s high office, it played out in patterns of color. Pockets of tattered green 2030’s shirts mingled with the sulfur yellow 2040’s, contrasting eminences against the predominant 2050’s red that continued to spread as a new decade’s supporters received their colors.

  Tengri’s gray suit r
eflected in the glass. “Amazing,” he said. “Coordinated actions in 475 cities. The environmental movement hasn’t been this organized since the emergency sulfur plan. Who’s behind this?”

  “I don’t care, as long as it helps our cause.” Tania smiled to herself. She’d helped Ruth pick out the ripple pattern for this year’s “350” shirt. I’d love to be in that crowd! To feel that energy! Tania could just see the stairway where she’d escaped February’s precursor to this protest. But although police lights flashed below, there would be no paingivers today. Through sheer size, the crowd had reached invincibility.

  Juarez and Lui will be here in minutes. I have to tell him. “Khan… I really… Remember when you told me I couldn’t work on that longterm climate plan?”

  Tengri turned, skewering her with his dark eyes. “Yes?”

  “I couldn’t afford to wait,” stammered Tania. “The research. Hiring staff. I had to act.” Silence. “So I started the work myself, by funneling money through shell companies. I’m calling the plan Pax Gaia and…”

  Tengri looked at her as if she’d just opened an extra eyeball. “You funneled money through shell companies? How did you learn to do this?”

  “I’m a quick study,” said Tania.

  “And how long has this been going on?” asked Tengri.

  “Two months. I’ve hired the team and we’ve outlined our strategy. None of my hires know the full picture though. They’re split into cells.”

  “Cells,” said Tengri. “Cells and shell companies.” He shook his head. “Tania? You? What next? Assassi…” He choked off the word as two darksuited steroid monsters barged into the office. They scanned the corners through their mirrored EyeSistants. One of them looked behind the potted plants.

  “Room clear.” They vanished.

  Tengri sucked a breath through his teeth. “Oops. Almost said the ‘ass’ word around the President’s security.” He shook his head. “As for – what did you call your plan?”