Glass Sky

by Niko Perren

  “I exploit the distrust politicians have for each other,” said Tengri. “With Juarez and Lui not providing Tamed Earth details, I’m helping everyone assume the worst. Many countries will be unable to feed themselves, unless the US and China provide rain.” Tengri yawned. “I could get twenty more if you’d let me make concessions. For instance, the Japanese will support Pax Gaia if you remove some of the fishing bans.”

  “Remove fishing bans? What do they think they can still catch? We’ve eaten everything in the oceans except the plastic bags.”

  “Plankton,” said Tengri.

  “Plankton?” Tania’s nose wrinkled. “Why? Can you make pancakes out of it or something?”

  “I don’t have a clue. I told them ‘no,’ of course.”

  “I don’t know how we’d do this without you,” said Tania.

  “I’ve collected a lot of favors in the last twenty years,” said Tengri. “They’ll be worth little once I retire. Thanks for letting me go out fighting.”

  “What do you think of our chances now?”

  “It’s hard to tell,” said Tengri. “Our opponents haven’t done anything yet. It’s easy to think we’re winning when the other team hasn’t taken to the field.”

  “Yeah, it’s spooky,” said Tania. “Other than a few attacks on my credentials, they’ve been very quiet. Juarez even said that she ‘welcomed a constructive debate.’”

  “It’s a smart strategy,” said Tengri. “Popular movements almost never succeed. They’re waiting to see if we implode. Why fight a divisive battle you don’t have to? But if we don’t implode, they will attack. They’re every bit as smart as we are, and much more ruthless.”

  ***

  “I’m telling you, I’ve lived in Mumbai.” Rajit pushed away his empty cereal bowl. “I’m skeptical that anyone could restore the mangroves. I’ve seen the slums.”

  “You’re getting hung up on specifics,” said Sharon in exasperation. “Read the overview.”

  “I’m being efficient,” said Rajit. “If I sample random details, I can interpolate the quality of the entire plan.”

  Jie pushed his scroll towards Rajit, waggling his finger under the relevant text. “Here. This is the slum redevelopment plan.”

  The TV lit up, and Tania Black appeared, machine-gunning some final instructions off-screen. Jie caught a tantalizing glimpse of mountains behind Tania. Vegetated mountains. With clouds. And blue sky. Tania turned toward them, her face aglow with the same thrilled exhaustion that Jie had seen in Zhenzhen when Cheng had been born. “Sorry about that,” she said. “It’s a little crazy right now.”

  “Yet Cheng says you helped him identify more insects last week,” said Jie. “Thank you. I don’t know how you find the time.”

  Tania grinned. “I did have to draw the line at sending the messages in that cypher he’s using with Rajit. But it relaxes me. I think his mother’s not too thrilled, though. He’s mostly been finding cockroaches. He may even have discovered a new subspecies. A plastic eater.”

  “That’s why he is national asset,” Jie said proudly.

  “Is it true the government will take him away from you if you don’t support his education? It seems like such an assault against freedom.”

  “Whose freedom?” asked Jie. “The parent or the child? Shouldn’t smart children with bad parents reach full potential? I applied to MIT, you know. Got accepted, but it was too expensive. In China, education is based on hard work, not social status. We have true class mobility.”

  “We have scholarships,” said Tania. “Just enough people beat the odds to preserve our national myth that anybody can succeed.” She laughed. “I’ve obviously bought into it, or I’d have dropped Pax Gaia long ago. Instead, here we are, hoping that the common people can score a victory.” She swung the camera around to show the crowded room. “Have you had a chance to read the draft text?”

  “I don’t think your plan for Mumbai will work,” said Rajit. “You’ll never get enough people to relocate.”

  “Ummm…” Tania looked taken aback. “I don’t have the details memorized. But don’t underestimate our ability to influence migration through urban design. The appendix has a documentary on my work in Guatemala City. Fifty percent of the surrounding area is now wilderness.”

  Sally raised her hand. “Did you get enough support to hold a referendum in China? I’m sure our voters would like this.”

  Tania shook her head. “Your government has declared the shield a security matter. So no referendums. They don’t trust your voters it seems. That’s why I need endorsements from people like you.”

  “You have my support,” said Sharon. They all nodded.

  “And we can join your promotional tour when we get back to Earth,” said Sally. “We’re scheduled to leave in ten days. As soon as we install the last Nanoglass factory. We’ll have a full week on Earth before the UN Climate Summit.”

  Tania beamed. “I was hoping you’d offer. Speaking of which, would you be interested in being video guests on the Witty Show next week? I’m going on the show to cap the first full week of our publicity rampup. Witty wants to leverage the dancing astronauts meme.”

  “The what?” Sharon and Sally spoke as one. Everyone looked at Jie.

  “How should I know?” asked Jie.

  “Don’t you get the news?” asked Tania. “You’re all media sensations.”

  “We’ve been studying Pax Gaia since breakfast,” said Sharon. “Earthcon, care to show us what she’s talking about?”

  Moments later they were on screen, dancing in the Nanoglass tiles. Jie squirmed with embarrassment at his stumble after the somersault. That was a private moment. Like singing in the shower.

  “Who took that?” demanded Sharon. Her voice lowered. “Earthcon? That’s from the mining truck camera.”

  “Don’t blame me. I wasn’t on shift. But all images of you belong to our sponsors. Read the fine print in your contracts. Your faces are regularly on TV.”

  “Really?” Sharon didn’t sound happy.

  Tania nodded. “Sharon, your face sells retirement timeshares. And GBOP has something called the Jie burger. But be that as it may, you should still be proud of this. You’re sharing happiness.”

  ***

  Tania tried to leave the office on time, but last-minute issues meant that the sun was behind the mountains by the time she got on her bike. The security camera showed a crowd of reporters waiting at the UNBio campus front gates. I don’t have the energy. I just want to get to Ruth’s party. She biked the other way, past the “Stay on Paved Trails” sign, and let gravity carry her down the steep dirt track that intersected the road below the first switchback.

  She cruised past glass cocoons full of angry commuters. Colorado had started the long-awaited upgrades to the transportation grid, and software bugs had already brought every motorized vehicle to a standstill twice that week. She kept her speed down, steering well clear of cars in case the grid rebooted. A cyclist had been killed yesterday when a bus had gone into reverse in Colorado Springs. The failsafes had been fixed now – at least according to the red-faced city planners – but a careful cyclist was a breathing cyclist.

  A few blocks from Ruth’s house the traffic lurched to life, moving by stops and starts. A car drove onto a lawn and spun in a circle before grinding to a halt in a hedge. Tania retreated to the sidewalk and walked her bike the rest of the way, keeping a wary eye over her shoulder for pursuing vehicles. She locked her bike in Ruth’s shed and climbed up the wooden stairs, tapping her omni to Ruth’s security pad to let herself in.

  Thumping music mixed with a roar of conversation. It smelled of pizza and pot. “I hope you haven’t eaten it all.” How many people has Ruth invited? A few friends from environmental groups, she’d promised. This sounds like a large value of “few.”

  The living room felt like a college bar on the last day of classes. Tania recognized some of the faces from her days with Earthsayer. Dune, from Nature Conservancy. Skye, from World Wildli
fe Fund. Pedro, from Greenpeace. Ruth leaned against the wall, one arm wrapped around a dread-locked beauty, the other holding a beer.

  “Did you recruit the astronauts?” Ruth asked. The conversation lulled, and all eyes turned to Tania, anticipating good news with which to justify another round of drinks.

  “I got four video endorsements,” said Tania. “They’re joining me on Witty. And they’ll promote Pax Gaia in a speaking tour after they land! According to Tian Jie, ‘There’s nothing like spending half a year on a lifeless rock to help you realize how precious the earth is.’”

  Her words triggered enthusiastic applause and a clinking of glasses. “I love it! That’s exactly what we need!” The speaker, a handsome black man, sat crosslegged in front of the mostly empty pizza boxes. Gary? Yes, Gary from Earth First. He settled a slice of pizza on a plate and handed it to Tania along with a beer from the cooler. “Join me?” He shifted over to make room on the floor.

  Ruth glanced significantly at Gary. “Cute,” she mouthed.

  Yes, cute. Tania sat down. The pizza was cold already, the cheese transformed back into a greasy solid, but it still tasted delicious.

  She closed her eyes, enjoying the happy sounds of the party. It’s nice to celebrate in biking shorts instead of formal attire. Tomorrow, she’d make the Pax Gaia announcement, and then she’d move from the world of science and analysis to weeks of speeches and backroom meetings.

  I wonder what they’re saying in the White House tonight. Tania cringed at the memory of the terrifying trip through Washington, helpless in the back of the van. Tengri’s right. Something’s coming. Juarez has been playing this game a lot longer than I have. And she plays rough.

  Chapter 42

  JIE LOST TWO consecutive rounds of rock-paper-scissors, so he was last through the airlock. He peeled off his stinking suit. Suit smell. Another thing I won’t miss. I’ll have to start making a list, in case I ever get nostalgic. The rest of the crew were already in the hive, settling in on the couches after a long day’s work. He walked past, naked, to the shower, his initial modesty long ago lost to practicality.

  “Jie – oh, pardon me.” Tetabo Molari averted his eyes on the TV screen.

  Jie covered himself and dashed to the bathroom door. “You could have warned me of guest!”

  Sally giggled from the couch.

  “He just called a second ago,” said Sharon.

  Every time this guy calls, it’s bad news. But what can it be? The first five tile factories are running flawlessly. The shield assembly robots have arrived at L1. Jie hurried through the shower, pulled on clean clothes, and plopped down next to Sally.

  “I have some bad news,” said Molari. I knew it. “Remember the legal agreement you all signed?”

  “Yes, and we’re not happy,” said Sharon. “The logos on the suits are bad enough. But nobody told us you’d be running ads. Jie Burgers? Really?”

  “I wish that was the worst of it.” Molari didn’t smile. “US government lawyers contacted me this morning. They claim that your endorsement of Pax Gaia is a violation of the promotional activities clause. From now on, you can’t contact any media without clearing your statements first.”

  Jie was too surprised to react, but Sally leapt to her feet. “That’s outrageous,” she said. “You’re censoring us. How can you do that?”

  “This isn’t me. I’m just the messenger.” Molari looked down. “But if you resist, they can cut your communications off completely.” He brought up a copy of the contract.

  Wherein the party of the third acknowledges without prejudice that insofar as the party of the first has commercial interests where commercial interests are defined as in subsection 28 of article 17, the party of the third does hereby agree to waive…

  Jie’s eyes glazed over. It continued for a whole page, a ponderous perversion of English, meaningless, except as a code between lawyers.

  “My counsel has reviewed this,” said Molari. “They say it’s solid. You can talk to friends, as long as you watch what you say. But that’s it. I’m sorry.”

  “Can we at least tell everyone that we’ve been muzzled?” asked Rajit.

  “Only in generalities,” said Molari. “The contract has a self-referential confidentiality clause.”

  Sharon squared her jaw. “I don’t get it,” she said. “This is just going to give us extra publicity when we get home. They can’t keep us off our Pax Gaia speaking tour.”

  “They can and they have,” said Molari. “The government-appointed project manager is delaying your return until after the UN Climate Summit. He said they needed more time for safety checks.”

  ***

  Tania and Ruth’s car stopped outside the Denver convention center’s front doors. Over Witty’s objections, Tania had chosen to unveil Pax Gaia’s specifics here, emphasizing her ties with the nearby UNBio campus. Despite the B-list location, an A-list mob of press and “350” shirted supporters had gathered on the sidewalk. The cheering started before Tania even opened the door. Somebody pressed a sign against the window. “We love you, Tania!”

  Ruth laughed. “Are you going to sign autographs?”

  “No way,” said Tania. “This isn’t about me.”

  They stepped out into the crowd.

  “Oh, oh,” said Ruth. Tania spotted it at the same time. Two gray-suited military types in wrap-around EyeSistants were moving to intercept them. They looked identical, right down to their haircuts and slightly over-muscled physiques. Tania saw her ripple of fear mirrored in Ruth’s expression. The men pushed out of the crowd, shouldering open a space.

  “Good afternoon, Doctor Black,” said one of the men. “We’re your bodyguards.”

  “Bodyguards?” asked Tania.

  “Witty must have forgotten to tell us,” said Ruth.

  “We work for President Juarez,” said the man. “The President ordered round-the-clock security.” He pulled out a badge. It looks official, though it could have come from a GBOP promo for all I know. Anybody with a material printer can make a 3D hologram. Tania touched it to her omni to verify the identity chip. Green.

  “What the hell is this?” asked Tania. She hurried into the lobby, forcing the two men to trot behind her. “Why is the President giving us security?”

  “She’s concerned that you’re making yourself a target,” said the guard. “She doesn’t want to take the blame if something… happens… to you.” Menace tinged his voice.

  Ruth yanked Tania’s arm. “Tania and I need to go to the toilet.” She dragged Tania down the hallway and into the women’s washroom. “I recognize one of them,” she hissed. “The taller one was watching the crowd outside Meaghan’s apartment.”

  “Oh. Shit.” Tania looked towards the bathroom door. “Well, I guess that’s more proof of how high up those land deals go. Do you think Witty’s investigators drew attention to us?”

  “I doubt it,” said Ruth. “Frank and Bruno are the best there are. But we’ll have to be careful. Those guys outside are clearly not bodyguards in any conventional sense.”

  “Oh, you think?” said Tania. She looked at the door again. “What if he recognizes us from the street? That’ll link us to Meaghan.”

  “He won’t recognize us,” said Ruth. “Not unless he has reason to do a really detailed study of the footage from his EyeSistant. There were lots of spectators, and we had bike helmets and sunglasses on.”

  “The worst of both worlds,” said Tania. “We know enough about the land deals to put ourselves at risk, but have no evidence we can actually use.”

  They left the bathroom, picking up their shadows at the doorway. Tania found herself staring at the guards. How can Ruth even tell them apart? They’re like carnivorous herd animals. Identical – to confuse their prey. She forced her eyes away. “Listen guys. I appreciate what the President is trying to do. But I don’t want you here.”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor Black. A presidential protection order is compulsory. But we are bound to strict confidentiality.” He sm
irked. “We work for you.”

  Sure you do.

  A growing crowd of invited guests mingled in the lobby, snacking on vegetarian entrees and organic wine. A reporter spotted Tania and started towards them. A guard glided over to intercept.

  “I don’t have time for this right now,” said Tania. She led Ruth up the carpeted stairs to the green room. The guards followed. Tania slammed the door in their faces and locked it. “This is going to make confidential meetings so much more interesting.”

  Ruth picked up a tiny sandwich of colored leaves and cheese from the snack tray. “If these clowns are the best Juarez can do, we should count ourselves lucky.” She stretched, put her legs up on the couch, and let out a long yawn.

  “Late night at the party?” asked Tania. She checked her hair. “You were getting along well with that lovely woman from Rainforest International.”

  “How would you know?” laughed Ruth. “You and Gary didn’t waste any time heading out.”

  Tania sighed contentedly. “I was asleep by midnight I’ll have you know. A lesson I learned in university. If I know how I’d like the evening to end, why wait until 3AM when we’re both drunk and tired?” She glanced at her omni. “Thirty minutes to show time.”

  A message blinked red. Highest priority.

  From the offices of Barnum, Binksworth, and Palmer: Cease and desist. You are in illegal possession of copyrighted images of Tian Jie, Sharon Steel, Rajit Pamir, and Sally Lui, henceforth referred to as “the astronauts.” We have obtained a court injunction…

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” She showed the message to Ruth.

  “Ignore it,” said Ruth.

  Tania read the message again. “Fuck. I can’t ignore it. The last thing I want is to get tangled up with lawyers right now. I’ve got to rework the presentation.” She tapped her omni to one of the green room screens. “Page one. Delete video.”

  “Bodyguards, and a gag order,” said Ruth. “That’s two points for Juarez. I guess the game has started.”