by Niko Perren
***
Ruth led them onto a busier street, outdoor patios crowded with tourists and locals enjoying the cooling night. They checked the bikes at the corner rack and Ruth herded Tania into a graffiti-decorated stairwell. “I know this place.” The peeling sign on the basement door said “Mohammed’s Kosher Mexican Dumpling Coffee House.” A bouncy afrobeat met them half way down the stairs.
The restaurant was busy but not yet crowded, so they settled in the corner, their privacy guaranteed by the burble of conversation around them. Ruth waved at the waiter, a flamboyant Chinese man. He brought two frosty beers.
“Two specials, Ruth?”
“Of course, Ning.”
“Two specials!” he singsonged.
A woman in a bright headscarf nodded from behind the bar and vanished into the kitchen.
“No menu in case you’re wondering,” Ruth explained as the waiter headed to the next table. “The Chef makes what he feels like. ‘Out of your comfort food,’ they call it. Meaghan and I come… Came…” She rubbed her eyes. “Fuck. I’m finally losing it. Sorry.”
“Thank goodness,” said Tania. “If you hadn’t started crying soon I would have had to check you for batteries.” She took Ruth’s hand. What do I say at a time like this? After Tania’s dad had died, she’d appreciated the few people who’d had the courage to talk about it. Most had pretended nothing had happened.
“Were you and Meaghan close?”
Ruth wiped away a tear. “I saw her maybe once a month. She’s a longtime supporter. We had a fun physical attraction.” At the next table, a black couple in North African tunics laughed loudly as the blonde woman they were with imitated the latest dance meme.
“How did you meet her?” asked Tania. She let Ruth talk, prodding with questions as necessary, allowing her to experience the loss. Her own ordeal in the Washington van already seemed a world away. I guess I’m getting used to beatings.
“What do we do now?” she asked finally.
“We quit,” said Ruth mournfully. She waited a moment, as if trying to read Tania’s reaction. “Or we fight. We make those bastards regret it.”
“Fight? Against the US and Chinese governments?”
The waiter arrived with two colorful bowls topped with peppers and leaves. “Mopani worms,” he explained. “An African delicacy, prepared with Chinese spices.”
He arranged the dishes on the table. Tania picked up a plump noodle with her chopsticks. Hilarious, they do look like worms. It wasn’t until she was chewing it that she saw the legs! More than a few. Her stomach rolled as the dish transformed in front of her.
“Ning, do you recognize my friend?” asked Ruth.
The waiter turned. “Hey, yeah. I saw you on the net. You pissed off that bitch Juarez. You’re cool!” He knuckled Tania over the table.
Ruth popped a worm in her mouth, chewing with obvious relish. Keep an open mind. Tania tried another. Fried legs crunched. The chewy flesh had a pleasant nutty taste, highlighted by the spices. Not bad.
“There’s your answer,” said Ruth as the waiter wandered off. “That’s how we fight.”
“Worms?” asked Tania.
“We use your moment of fame to turn Pax Gaia into a single, worldwide movement. In July we got hundreds of environmental organizations to coordinate their protests for the UN Climate Summit. Imagine what we could do with thousands. Environmental groups, businesses, sympathetic governments, farmers – we’ve got a lot of natural support.”
“And you want me to lead this?” Tania blinked. “That’s crazy talk, Ruth. For starters, Juarez will kill us if we try, as I think she’s already demonstrated.”
“Wrong,” said Ruth. “She’s demonstrated that you’re too high profile. That’s the only reason why you’re not in that grave right now. You became the face of environmentalism when you upstaged Juarez in her own house. And as UNBio Director, you have credibility. Some of the best scientists in the world are working on Pax Gaia. You have access to political leaders. This role isn’t yours to take. It’s yours to give up.”
Tania used her tongue to pick brittle Mopani legs from between her teeth. “I’m a scientist. I don’t know how to pressure people behind the scenes. I don’t know how to deal with lobbyists, or corporate interests. I have no experience.”
“You don’t do something like this with experience,” said Ruth. “You do it with passion. And you’ve got that. Witty can handle publicity. Khan Tengri’s great at lies and deception. A team effort. How many organizations have offered you their support?”
Tania glanced at her omni: “1442.”
The lights dimmed, the music loudened, and a dance floor formed in the corner. A rainbow of colors and cultures, united by a funky tribal rhythm. Does Ruth really believe I can do this? Or is grief making her crazy?
Ruth leaned forward. “We’ll have leverage too. Once we dig up the rest of the evidence on Ethiopia. We’ll teach those bastards a lesson.”
Tania stopped midworm. “Whoa, no way. It’s one thing to be the face of the opposition. But I’m not digging into those land deals any further. Meaghan was an expert, and look what happened to her.”
“I’m not an idiot, Tania.”
“No? It sounds like you’re ready to march into Terillium’s headquarters like the heroine in a Sally Pitt movie.”
“I’m going to ask Witty to dig into it. Though I’ll have to wait until I see him in person. He has investigators for his show. Exmilitary.” Ruth waved over the waiter. “Ning, do you have an office we can use?”
“I guess you could use the owner’s office. She’s never here in the evenings.”
“Hey,” said Tania. “I’m still deciding.”
“No, you’re not. If you know an alternative, tell me now. Otherwise it’s time to stop the foreplay and put out.”
Ning glanced at them. “What exactly are you using this office for?”
“It’s not what it sounds like,” said Tania. “We’re making some calls.”
***
A mix of papers and strange ceramic penguins covered the desk, nearly burying a computer ten years out of date. It took two software updates before Ruth’s omni would talk to the monitor.
To Tania’s surprise, Witty answered right away. She’d always assumed that somebody of Witty’s importance would route everything through an assistant. But even Witty had friends.
“Hi, Ruth. Oh, hello, Tania. Nice job, beating my ratings. With a press conference even. Very humbling. I’m making fun of you again tomorrow as revenge, but it’ll be tasteful. Somewhat.” He vanished from the frame, and Tania recognized the lounge where she’d had a drink with him after the show. Sure enough, he returned with a beer. “I’d offer you one – Ruth, is that your penguin collection?”
Ruth picked one of the penguins off the desk. “Nice huh?” Her expression hardened, and some of the anger and sorrow returned. “We’re in trouble, Will. I’ll have to tell you some of the details in meatspace. But we need your help. Tania’s not giving up on Pax Gaia. She’s going to lead the opposition to Tamed Earth.”
“Really…” said Witty. “How?”
“There’s a UN Climate Summit at the start of October,” said Tania, the details already forming. “If we pressure enough governments to think longterm…”
“Good luck with that,” laughed Witty. “You’ll convince Chinese voters, maybe, if the training materials aren’t too slanted. But politics is the business of mortgaging the future for the present. Look at the debts we inherited from our grandparents. I’m entertained though. Continue.”
Tania elaborated, making most of it up on the spot, skipping over anything better discussed in person. Witty listened, nodding from time to time, amusement morphing into interest. “Our simulations show that we have to start implementing Pax Gaia almost as soon as it’s announced,” said Tania. “We can’t afford to drift another year.”
Witty steepled his fingers. A long silence. “The US and China will have no shortage of tame scientists.
Can you prove that Pax Gaia will be better than Tamed Earth?”
“We don’t have details on Tamed Earth, so what do we compare against? And the shield isn’t finished…” Tania shook her head.
“Bzzzt.” Witty made a loud buzzer noise. “Sorry. You’re not even convincing yourself. Try again.”
“Okay, okay. We run simulations on the latest version of Pax Gaia every week. We measure our models using Human Development Index statistics. We’re getting…”
“Bzzzt,” interrupted Witty. “Yada yada yada.” He shook his head. “Sorry. HDI statistics? Too complex. Your opponents will distort your arguments and confuse everyone. And nobody protests if they’re confused. You’re not inspiring me Tania.”
“What do you expect?” snapped Tania. “I have no details. We don’t even know when the shield will be completed.”
“What if the shield doesn’t work?”
“We have to assume it will,” said Tania. “The shield is our only tool.”
Witty frowned. “Tania, walk away from this.”
“I’m not walking away,” said Tania.
“Why not? You won’t win. It’s a lot of risk for nothing.”
“I think,” said Tania, “that we need to finish what we started. You. Me. All of us. One last battle. We may not win. But we can hold forth a shining vision of the world that is still possible. And when the last wild lion ends in a shopping mall zoo, we’ll know we could have done no more.”
“Ding ding ding.” Witty started slowly clapping. “Finally, a yes! That’s what it’s going to take to get the crowds out. Sell the dream.” He smiled. “I’ve been donating to Ruth’s cause long enough. I think it’s time I joined the game for a while. What do we need to do?”
***
Tania had to argue with Khan Tengri’s computer four times before she even reached an assistant. Tengri called her back an hour later, after she and Ruth had already checked into a Chelsea motel. Ruth looked up from the desk where she’d been sending emails. “Is it him?”
Tania nodded. “Sorry, you have to go. He’d expect this to be private.”
Ruth grumbled, but left the room.
“Tania, you are not on my Christmas list right now,” growled Tengri. “You’ve put me in an impossible position. If I hadn’t intervened personally and told the President that you had UN immunity, you’d still be in the White House basement.” His stern expression cracked. “What a stunt though!”
“I’m not done yet,” said Tania.
Tengri glared. “Yes, you are. I’m dismissing you. There’s no way you can still be effective.”
“There’s one way,” said Tania. She raced through her plans for Pax Gaia. “If we don’t act now, there won’t be anything left to save. Pax Gaia will be a solid plan based on the best-available science. Not another toothless, watered-down compromise. And there are many groups begging for bold action. I can give them a face to rally behind.”
“You?” Tengri worried the end of his beard between two fingers, twisting it into a spiral. “What am I supposed to say to this? You’re a biospherist. What makes you think you can lead a political movement?”
“I can’t,” said Tania. “Not alone. But Bill Witty has agreed to handle publicity. Another friend is rallying environmental groups. I need you, Khan. I need your political wisdom.”
Tengri’s face was a stone mask. Seconds passed. I’m asking Tengri to risk his whole career. But without somebody on the political end – without somebody to talk to governments…
“I had hoped a political leader would emerge,” said Tengri. “But some generations are more fertile than others, I suppose. Or maybe only people like Juarez can flourish in today’s rot. You give me no choice.”
“You’ll join us?”
Tengri nodded reluctantly. “I’ll start by running this past India. Right now they’re beating the war drum over the sulfuring. But you stood up for them. They’ll remember that. Maybe we can give them a positive focus for their anger.”
“Just to be clear, my stand on sulfuring wasn’t to please India,” said Tania. “I did it because of the evidence.”
Tengri laughed. “My God! You do need my help. A politician takes credit for the sun, and blames the rain on his opponents. Speaking of which, I assume I can promise India a regular monsoon?”
“The monsoon’s part of their normal climate,” said Tania. “As such, we’ll preserve it. But both India and Pakistan use too much land to grow too little food. They’ll need to improve agriculture and start restoring natural areas. It’s going to take work.”
“How much leeway do I have?” asked Tengri. “Can I tweak Pax Gaia to get governments on side?”
“No,” said Tania. “That’s the old model. As soon as we give in to vested interests, Pax Gaia loses integrity and crumbles to dust.”
“So you not only want me to destroy my political career,” said Tengri. “You want me to tie both hands behind my back? You realize we have no chance of success?”
“Wrong. We have an exceedingly low chance of success,” said Tania. “But doesn’t that beat certain failure? Isn’t that why you gambled on me?”
Chapter 39
JIE RECEIVED A call from Tania Black just as he was starting his morning’s work. He routed it into the VR headset, and a translucent image of her face showed up over the reference grid. On her end, she’d see a 3D model of him, matched to his facial expressions inside the goggles.
“Tania? I’m glad you are OK! We were worried about you.”
“Yeah, I didn’t make myself very popular at the White House,” agreed Tania. “I’m calling because I want you to know that I’m not giving up on Pax Gaia. In fact, I’m assembling a team to finish the plan and take it directly to the public. We can’t leave this to politicians anymore, Jie.”
Jie let go of the tile he’d been studying in the nano-tweezers. “That is very good news,” he said. “We are all upset about Tamed Earth announcement. We came here to help the whole planet. Not make new one for China and America.”
“That’s why I wanted to tell you first,” said Tania. “You’re risking your life up there. You deserve to know that we’re not giving up yet. My team’s going to take a month to polish Pax Gaia, and then we’re going to promote it any way we can. We hope to get enough support to force the UN General Assembly to adopt it at the October Climate Summit.”
“What do you want from me?” asked Jie. “I can give you an endorsement.”
Tania shook her head. “I’d love an endorsement, but that should wait until Pax Gaia is finished. I’m tired of people supporting causes they don’t understand.”
Maybe just as well. I’m really too busy finishing the shield to get involved in politics. A row of Nanoglass tiles sat near the probes, just visible through Tania’s slightly transparent head. Flawless. Beautiful. “We at 95% yield now,” said Jie. “We will connect the first of nine nanofactories to the mass driver in one month. I will come home in two. If you want, I will endorse Pax Gaia in person when I get back to Earth.”
Tania beamed. “That would be fantastic,” she said. “What are you looking forward to most when you get home?”
“Besides the Pax Gaia victory celebration?” laughed Jie. “Cheng and I are going back to Thailand. And Sally is coming too.”
“Oh, Thailand is beautiful, isn’t it?” said Tania. “The way the waves ripple across the sand. The wind in those giant trees.”
Above Jie, the plastic wall stretched over its metal struts. “I haven’t felt wind in six months.”
***
The talk of Thailand brought back memories, and after Tania disconnected, Jie felt a painful longing to be somewhere, anywhere, other than the base. The walls closed in. Everything felt constricted, artificial. A prison more than a home.
“Earthcon, can I play XB7200 immersion games on this hardware?”
“Do you want permission? Or are you checking the capabilities?”
“I’ve been working way too hard to need permissi
on,” said Jie.
“Then the hardware will handle it,” said the controller.
Jie called a 30-minute break and connected to his gaming account. He had to wait several minutes for an offline copy of the game to upload over the slow lunar link. Then he opened the latest save. He found himself on horseback galloping over an open plain, playing Cheng’s elf, the cup clutched in his left hand. Jie felt a stab of betrayal. Cheng’s been playing without me. And what happened to my warrior? Did one of Cheng’s friends get me killed? Or did Cheng switch to solo play?
‹Open save point. The dungeon entrance.›
‹You had two characters when you played this point,› the game informed him. ‹Would you like the computer to play the elf?›
‹Sure.›
Jie appeared in his warrior, frozen amidst a tangle of grayed-out vines. Cheng’s elf stood next to him, outlined in a green halo to show that he was a computer-controlled friendly. The clearing where Dargool waited lay just minutes through the forest. Jie unpaused the game, and the world filled with color. Instead of following the path back towards Dargool, he plunged into the undergrowth.
‹Warrior,› said the computer-controlled elf. ‹We must go the other way.›
The game gravity seemed weird, even though Jie lacked a full immersion harness to complete the experience. His legs seemed to slam into the ground. Jie looked around, admiring the leaves. A wind rustled through them, its algorithmic origins clearly visible in the rolling sine waves. A butterfly flapped on a tree, but when Jie bent close he saw it was no more than a texture overlaid on a set of triangles.
‹Warrior, are you lost?› asked the elf.
Just enjoy. Keep walking.
After 50 meters he ran into a cliff, blocking his way forward. He followed it for a while before realizing that the cliff was curving and the game was herding him back towards Dargool. No. Not today. I’m just sightseeing.