by Randy Dutton
The group’s acknowledgement was immediate and positive.
He continued, “Some of you have been instrumental in technological breakthroughs and implementation, others in financial dealings to capitalize on our advantages, and”—he glanced with appreciation to Anna—“many have helped steer the media and political powers to our side.”
She smiled at the acknowledgement.
“Each was a puzzle piece in an intricate design. Put into place, you’ve created a mosaic of fantastic proportions – the perfect ‘Carbon Trap.’ And our creations will achieve greatness for each of us.... Miss Picard now will instruct you on the tablet.”
Anna had the elegance of a runway model, and the intelligence and iron will of a corporate CEO. Most knew her as Swanson’s facilitator and executive recruiter – she had recruited many of them. Few knew her more dangerous side.
“Thank you, Mr. Swanson.” She gave him an affectionate smile, and turned to the attendees with an expression now turned intense as she held her tablet with its screen facing the group.
“You each are being provided a specially configured tablet with eyes-only information. These replace your older tablets, which you will deposit with me before you leave today...no exceptions. The new versions are tailored to your special assignments, and allow wireless access to centralized files stored in the cloud. All files are double-encrypted.... Now, please place your right hand on the hand outline”—she held her elegant right hand against her tablet—“like so.”
Her screen flashed and immediately went to the meeting agenda.
“The biometric scanner initiates your tablet and provides security against unauthorized access.”
Touching the screen image, her finger flicked the agenda onto a wall-mounted screen.
Her voice turned stern. “Pay attention and remember...security is paramount! If anyone other than you tries to access your tablet, the security application will wipe the hard drive and a small internal device will fry it.”
Poof! The fingers of her right hand imitated an explosion.
“You must activate the tablet at least once every 24 hours or a similar event will occur.” Again her fingers made a theatrical poof. “Also, the device will power down if no activity is performed within ten minutes. Know this...the tablet communication ports are fake – designed to give it a normal appearance. Using one will initiate the hard drive data destruction. Don’t try opening the tablet’s titanium case and don’t plug in peripherals. You won’t like what happens!”
A division head imitated Anna’s ‘poof!’
“Exactly! Glad you’re paying attention.” More harshly, she warned, “If it self-destructs...contact me...immediately! Any questions?”
Her ice cold stare scanned each face, while her mind reviewed her ulterior motive.
You’re uncomfortable with the thought of possessing a computer that isn’t totally under your control. Good! Better to keep you a little off balance than for you to be complacent. You’ll never know the tablet already provides Jared and me of your GPS location and data files.
Flipping back to a soft smile, she said, “Mr. Swanson, it’s all yours.”
He stood. “Let us proceed…. Sir Richard Branson once said, ‘Over 50% of the climate change challenge can be addressed today – and profitably – by existing technologies, under existing policy. This is an opportunity marked as a crisis – arguably the largest wealth creation opportunity of our lifetime.’” In a booming voice, he declared, “With our new technologies, by proactively changing policies, and using an amplifier to promote the crisis, we’ll multiply our wealth a hundred-fold!”
The pitch of his voice lowered as he slowly paced counterclockwise around the room.
“As the UN Working Group just ratified, the carbon reduction program we’ve helped set up commences July first. Through monetary and political incentives, US government approval is assured. Without going into too much detail, our lobbying, placement of our personnel within various governments’ administrations, and media efforts, have paid off. We have the votes in Congress, and we’ve isolated the dissent. Those who opposed us in academia, the media, and within government, were isolated, or removed. Eliminating industries’ dissent is a little harder...but the White House and Congressional leaders assure me the UN bill will be signed into US law.”
The group broke into applause.
Swanson tilted his head upward when he had made half a circuit around the table. Solemnly he continued. “We’ve been operating at a very fast pace and I want to acknowledge the loss of two key executives, having succumbed to...unfortunate accidents. Tony Peters and Leo Schwartz will both be missed....”
Most of the attendees nodded in agreement.
“But our mission isn’t over...far from it. I need you to devote yourselves to pushing our agenda forward, at the fastest possible pace.”
He had come full circle.
“Now, let’s get down to specifics. Dr. Sven Johansson, for those new to Snath, is President of Snath Genetics Corporation.” He put his hand on Sven’s chair back. “Sven, where do we stand on the bioengineering schemes to capitalize on CO2 reduction?”
Swanson sat.
A tall man stood, his appearance betraying his Swedish lineage.
With a touch of an icon, his presentation suddenly came up on every tablet.
“Most of you are current with this, so my briefing will mostly be for the new staff.... Snath Genetics is on track with biological modifications in four critical areas – air, land surface, deep surface, and water. Over the past decade, we’ve secured control of biotech companies that have perfected the genetic traits necessary for our objectives.”
His finger swept across his tablet to send a presentation onto the projection screen.
“I’m first going to brief you on three separate species”—he held up three fingers—“we’ve developed that will arrest the rise of carbon dioxide. They live in different environments yet have been genetically designed with some identical traits – enhanced carbon dioxide absorption, longevity, rapid growth, robustness, and resistance to predator control. Working through government contacts we’ve dramatically shortened development timelines.”
Sven grinned at the thought of how little money it took in political contributions, outright bribes, and coercion to falsify or bypass testing steps – just some tens of millions of dollars. This allowed them ultimately to bypass a billion dollars in expenses and 15 years of testing. It became even easier when the President started bypassing Congress and changing the Department of Sustainable Agriculture’s agenda.
A slide with timelines appeared.
“Because rising CO2 was declared a global emergency, the government’s accelerated approval to integrate our technologies into several carbon sequestration and cleansing products.... It’s amazing what you can do when something’s declared a crisis...and with this government...we’ve had so many.”
Several people laughed, knowing the legitimate process wasn’t being followed, but, in their minds, when the potential ends were so significant, then surely any means were acceptable.
A photo appeared of a fuzzy, grayish-green, sponge-like plant.
“Our first product is a CO2-scrubbing filter media – a genetically engineered angiosperm—”
“Looks like Spanish moss,” one man interrupted.
“It’s really closer to a bromeliad, or ‘air plant’,” Sven said. “It reproduces by fragmenting and prospering in a much wider temperature and humidity range. Since that’s what people think of, we’ll just refer to it as a moss.... We’re incorporating it into many industrial and commercial air filters. Think of it as a flat leaf with a million times the surface area.”
A time-lapse video clip appeared showing the filter in action. “As the moss rapidly grows, particles shed into a large solid waste container, making it easy to dispose of in landfills–”
“Excuse me, Sven,” interjected Derek, a recently recruited environmental engineer. “Won’t the collec
ted moss particles break down over time in the landfill, and re-release the CO2?”
Sven frowned at this interruption. “No. Read the report. It’s been engineered so that neither aerobic nor anaerobic microbes in oxygenated or oxygen-starved landfills can break it down. Ultimately it’ll compress and create a nearly pure-carbon deposit similar to a carbon matrix. Any other questions?”
At that moment, Jared entered the cabana and motioned to Anna.
Sven glanced to his right, his eyes shifting downward to watch her gracefully stand and walk around the assemblage to the door. His slight crooked smile reflected his enjoyment at watching this gorgeous woman’s flowing stride. The other men in the room were similarly appreciative of the distraction.
Catching his pause, Sven continued, “This moss is patented and allows our industrial filter companies to get a head start on the equipment and service contracts. We’ve assurance from Congressional subcommittees and the President, the EPA and UN will declare these filters mandatory for all industrial control equipment emitting CO2. We’re even working on a future home ventilation filter.”
Sven paused for a sip of water, and glanced down at Anna wistfully smiling at her tablet displaying an aerial image of a small island. The light blue water reminded him of the Mediterranean.
He cleared his throat and continued, “There are some other technologies ready to put into field use, but I’ll keep it short.”
More slides appeared. “Our second product”—two fingers went up—“is a cynobacterium that aircraft will spray into concentrated airborne CO2 emissions.”
“Clouds have bacteria?” one person asked.
Sven grinned. “Over 17 varieties. Our little gem is so light it stays aloft and multiplies within a cloud. This is the part of our atmospheric support business that will provide aerial spraying services over volcanic eruptions and industrial areas around the world.”
“Why volcanic eruptions?” a man asked from the back.
Sven flicked a video clip file on the screen showing a volcano erupting with an overlaid animation showing color-coded gaseous concentrations.
“Carbon dioxide’s not only emitted by burning carbon fuels but from volcanoes, hot springs, and geysers, and is freed from carbonate rocks by dissolution – like when making cement.”
The animation transitioned into different CO2-emitting sources, and finally into the image of a politician giving a speech.
“I would add the obvious, that it is expelled by animals...and humans when we pontificate too much.”
The group laughed.
“But we’ll focus on areas in which we can profit by spraying our cynobacterium. Not only do we expect UN contracts as a result of the carbon tax they’re about to impose, but we’ll generate carbon credits that will exceed our costs 30-fold.”
“How does the cynobacterium reduce overall CO2? I mean, the moss is buried in landfills. But doesn’t the bacteria just recycle carbon back into the environment after it dies?” a woman asked.
“Fair question.... As bacterium concentrations increase, they come into more contact with each other, latching on and creating larger biological units. Eventually, they get too heavy to stay aloft and fall out of the sky, often acting as seed particles for rain drops. Remember that water vapor constitutes 95 percent of global warming gases. All other pollutants – CO2, methane, nitrous oxides, ozone, carbon monoxide, and some exotics – make up the other 5 percent. Under normal circumstances, the bacterium would be drift to the surface to be consumed by another organism and recycled. This bacterium, however, contains an anti-predation gene that prevents it from being consumed.
“We’ve added another gene to this guy, one that creates a surfactant when it comes into contact with salt. Surfactants break surface tension, allowing these bacteria to sink. Since three quarters of the world’s surface is water, most of the bacterium’s carbon nanoparticles will end up in the ocean, drifting down into the depths, forever sequestered as indigestible sediment. But”—he raised his chin—“not before releasing the nutrients our third product”—three fingers went up—“my phytoplankton...can use for added growth. That’s the goal.”
Sven’s grin broadened and another slide appeared. “This segues to a product of great significance. Our genetically modified phytoplankton absorbs several times more dissolved CO2 and hydrocarbons in the ocean water than native plankton. I think this will prove to be our greatest product.”
“Excuse me, Sven, what exactly is a phytoplankton?” asked an accountant.
Sven smirked, “You may know currency trading but you must have failed biology.” His grin faded as Swanson gave him a disapproving stare.
“Sorry,” Sven continued. “It’s a category of microscopic photosynthesizing organisms that live in the upper, sunlit layer of water. Its name means ‘wandering plant.’ and it consumes CO2, absorbs sunlight, and releases oxygen. Phytoplanktons are the primary producers, the first link on the food chain. There are about 5,000 different types and, together, they produce about half the atmosphere’s oxygen.”
“No, I didn’t take biology,” the accountant replied. “So my next question is how will you use them? We need to create the financial trading parameters and have to understand the timeframes to set up the contracts.”
“We will be contracted to inject them where dissolved CO2 concentrations are highest – typically where ocean pH is lowest – which includes spraying them on surface and subsurface oil slicks, an select ocean zones. As a result, the phytoplankton will help de-acidify the oceans and restore the coral reefs.”
“Do you need a minimum CO2 concentration for it to be effective?”
Sven grinned. “Yes. I won’t get into the carbon-cycle specifics on fluxes within the land, air, and ocean CO2. Let’s just say, it’s progressively more effective with atmospheric CO2 levels above what existed before man started polluting the air. And atmospheric levels affect dissolved oceanic levels. As for oil slicks, in the real world, they’re created in nature, where every year in US waters as much oil as was released by the Exxon Valdez oil spill. And nature cleans up the oil with natural microbes, which remain mostly dormant until called upon. Animal life also quickly returns to normal following a big spill. Nature adapts, just sometimes too slowly for environmentalists such as ourselves, and for the media and politicians. The quote, ‘a crisis is too valuable to waste’ applies here. When an oil spill occurs, a great deal of money flows to the company which cleans it up before the media circus leaves town.
“It is our job to capture the premium of speed,” Sven added over the chuckles and applause.
While Sven continued his presentation, the attendees busily scanned notes containing more details about each product – the projections of CO2 removal, product line financials, and timelines. The anticipated annual income was in the hundreds of billions of euros.
The audience began to fidget as Sven wound down his presentation with a slide that showed a microbe superimposed over a map of the world’s oil and gas fields.
Four fingers now were pointing up. “…and this anaerobic microbe, being a subterranean product, consumes oil and natural gas, and excretes a cement-like material. Some of you may be wondering why we would create a bug to eat fuel. That is a little more insidious—”
“Because fossil-based hydrocarbons are evil!” one said.
Sven nodded. “And we need to prevent mankind from ever considering going back to them. By having governments incentivize companies to permanently abandon their dirty oil and natural gas fields, we seal them up with something that can’t be bypassed. These critters form a biological seal. Naturally, our energy services company will get the contracts to provide the sealing mix and the service.” Sven looked around. “Are there any more questions?”
Chapter 2
June 15, 1600 hours
North Malé Atoll, Maldives
On the east side of North Malé Atoll, four industrialists walked past an aquamarine swimming pool partly surrounded by coconut palms.
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Close behind them were two men – a Cuban and a Corsican – each in dark sunglasses, and wearing tropical suits and woven hats. They had tailed the industrialists to a beach restaurant.
Jacques, the Corsican, touched an ear fob communicator and whispered into his collar. “Will do.” Jacques motioned his head to the north. “Fidel, we are to intercept their conversations. Use your directional mic. You go left, I will take the right.” They split off at the entrance in a flanking maneuver.
Shaped like a giant wide-angled wedge pointing to the sea, the restaurant’s footprint included a main structure with a large overlapping tile-roofed building, and numerous umbrella-shaded patio tables on a much larger outer deck. Supported by concrete posts, this establishment partly reached out over the water to provide its outside guests an excellent view.
Attendees, most in tropical suits and small clusters, had arrived at the restaurant and occupied the remaining tables. Their thrill of victory was evident in raised voices and laughter. Many would be drunk by evening.
The industrialists were the exception. They were casually attired in cotton knit shirts and either slacks or shorts. Dressed for comfort, they nonetheless were uncomfortable. Unlike most of the 600 attendees of the conference, and dozens of additional news crews, the collective mood of these few men was sour.
“Join me. I’ve reserved a table.” Ed Rutledge suggested to three others. He represented an agricultural consortium called Global Food Alliance (GFA).
The foursome were led to a table at the apex of the deck where privacy was more attainable.
Savory aromas drifted past the four men as they were seated. Foods from around the world had been flown into this resort island at great expense. Outside the resorts, the only meats commonly found were chicken and fish.
In anticipation of the Conference crowd, all the tables had been pre-set with plates and silverware, and large two-liter dark green bottles of water. A waiter approached, poured black tea for each, took their drink orders, and retreated.