A Home to Die For

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A Home to Die For Page 2

by Darrell B Nelson


  #

  The Adjuster entered his office. He didn’t need to turn on any lights as the entire building was lit by carefully placed light-tubes, that directed the natural sunlight into key areas. He took a deep breath enjoying the fresh air that the plants on the living wall provided.

  The entire building was a great feat of Eco-Engineering; everything was designed to work with the environment. The building was so efficient that it used less energy than the solar panel roof generated. The energy turned into Carbon Credits, which were returned to the people. The entire department was asked to bear a larger burden than what was asked of the general population.

  He began looking over the day’s work when his secretary buzzed him on the intercom. “The President is here to see you.”

  “It’s election season again, isn’t it?” The Adjuster leaned back in his chair made of recycled material. “Send him in, I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”

  “I’ll cut right to the point,” President Cruz said after the formalities were out of the way. “You know who Prescott Winsor is, right?”

  “The oil and coal magnate. If I’m not mistaken, he’s now the third richest man in the country. He was the richest but the co-founders of Ecohappy Solutions beat him out two years ago. I’m not sure if some of the other Ecopreneurs have over taken him or not.”

  “Um, yes his business his falling, but he still has a lot power,” the President said. “But I’m not here to talk about his business, I’m here because his daughter over extended her credits while on Carbon Credit Probation.”

  “And you want me to pardon her?”

  “Yes, He is still a powerful man that can make life unpleasant for you,” the President said.

  The Adjuster looked at the President with a thoughtful expression.

  “I do know what he is going through, I’m a father myself.” He pointed to the picture of him holding his twin daughters that had been on his desk for the last 23 years. “When people come into this office they often ask me about that picture. Why I keep the picture of my daughters when they were newborns on my desk, even though they’ve grown up to be young ladies now. My answer is always the same.”

  “What is that?”

  “The picture isn’t there just to celebrate their birth. It’s there to remind me of the exact moment when I devoted my life to saving the world,” the Adjuster said. “Every time I look at that picture, it sends me back to the first time I held my fragile babies in my arms. They looked up at me with an absolute trust that I would make a good life for them.”

  “That's what every father wants,” the President said. “But what does that have to do with this?”

  “When they were born I had a childhood memory. Breakfast with my parents, eating pancakes smothered in maple syrup.”

  The President smiled. “You hit my heart there, or at least my stomach. I can remember the time when maple syrup wasn't a extreme luxury item. Even as President I can only get a small amount of Alaskan maple syrup once a month. Nowhere near as thick as the Vermont stuff I grew up on.”

  “I knew they'd never have that same memory. I thought of all the other things they would never experience because of how we wrecked the planet. The joy of spring, not just a quick transition from cool to oppressive heat. Playing in the backyard without having to worry about heatstroke.”

  The President squirmed in his chair. “I do remember those things. But we've learned to adapt. I took my children to the underground parks when they were young.”

  “Adapting isn't the same!” The Adjuster leaned forward. “When I looked down at them, I vowed I would turn back the damage that mankind had done to the planet. I couldn’t have them living in a devastated world where millions of people starved to death from massive droughts. A world where even the richest countries spent a large portion of their wealth trying to keep their coastal cities from flooding as the sea levels rose. I needed to spare them the horror of watching the great cities of world being abandoned, as their governments couldn’t afford to build new levies.” The Adjuster slammed his fist on his desk for emphasis. “The thought of having these two innocent babies growing up in a world where disasters taking out entire cities were considered to be a positive impact on the economy, as people worked to clean up the devastation, was too much for me to bear.”

  “We all know of the horrors of global warming. I watched it happening.”

  “Like you, I watched the mass extinctions happen. I stood helpless as species were overcome by the quickly changing environment. Horrified when millions of dead fish washed to shore as the ocean turned more acidic. Crying while sandstorms buried towns that had been agricultural centers. These were the horrors of my time; I vowed, I would make damn sure that my daughters wouldn't have to see them first hand.”

  “But you’ve done that now,” the President told him. “Over the past fifteen years your program of carbon rationing has stopped the build up of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. We are reversing the damage.”

  “That’s exactly why it’s more important than ever to continue the course we’ve set. It’s not enough to just stop the buildup we need to reverse the damage that has been done over the last 200 years.” The Adjuster addressed the leader of the world like he would a ten-year-old child.

  “But one pardon won’t stop that.”

  “But it will,” the Adjuster said. “If I let down my principals for just a second, the whole program will fall apart. Twenty-three years ago when I started my quest, I found out we could stop the build up easily. If we used the green technology of the time, we could have reversed the trend before now. We wouldn't need extreme measures. My findings were laughed at because the people in power were dependent on money made by dirty technology. People like Prescott.”

  “Prescott's not a bad man. It just takes time to change some people.”

  “I've met with him. Twenty years ago. It was that meeting that made me realize he wasn't the whole problem. Only half of it. We talked about stopping the use of fossil fuels. He, correctly, pointed out the economic forces were too great for him to give up supplying the world with dirty energy.”

  “If he didn't do it someone else would.” The President sighed. “As you can imagine I hear that a lot.”

  “So you know how it feels,” The Adjuster said. “It was his scoffing at my ideas that made me realize in order to fight the economic forces that conspired to destroy this planet, I would have to come up my own economic model. The old economic models were outdated. They dealt with the problem of scarcity. In an age of 3-D Printing, where you merely have to send blueprints to a robotic factory to have an object made, and edible algae farms supplying all the food humanity could ever need, the only scarcity is created by the artificial markets that the people like Prescott had set up.”

  “But you've changed that.”

  “Yes, my economic model reflects this new world, the Economics of Abundance. In this new world the true cost of an object is not how much it costs to manufacture it, but how much it costs to throw it away. Like the Carbon Dioxide that is thrown away after energy is released from fossil fuels. My economic model showed me exactly how to save the Earth without involving the people who’s money was dependent on dirty technology.”

  “That's when you set up this department.”

  “Yes, I became a politician. Again people like Prescott scoffed at me but this time I planned for that. I showed them how under the new economic models they were still in control of the money. What they didn’t realize was that money had become meaningless in the new economy. By the time Prescott and others realized what I had done, new green industries had sprung up to challenge their power. My new economic model guaranteed that this would be the most powerful force on the planet, as long as I did just one thing. I had to stay absolutely fair. Just like a force of nature doesn’t care who it affects, neither could I. Everyone had to bear the same responsibility, I made no distinction between the poorest individual or the daughter of the third richest man in th
e world, the punishment is the same for everyone.”

  “But this time he is calling for your head,” the President told him. “Trust me Prescott Winsor is not a man to be messed with. Especially as when his daughter is concerned.”

  “Having Prescott Winsor, or any of the old money cronies coming after my head is nothing new. Because of my being absolutely fair handling everyone, the new green technology companies have become dependent on my fairness. He can wage war on me, the green companies will wage war on him. It will come to nothing as far as I am concerned.” The Adjuster smiled. “You on the other hand might feel some of his wrath.”

  The President just nodded.

  “Here is what I can do to insulate you from him.” The Adjuster gave him a warm smile, “I’ve identified several key old industries which a tiny reduction can bring a huge payoff. If you can convince them to reduce their emissions by 1% and increase Research and Development budget in green innovation by 2% it would speed the Earth’s recovery dramatically.”

  “It's a challenge, but it's possible.”

  “If those things are done I can increase the peoples Carbon Credit Rations by 2.5% just in time for the election,” the Adjuster promised. “The 2.5% adjustment is just enough to lift peoples spirits without drastically changing their patterns. The small reduction will more than offset this in the short run. The increased budget in R&D will more than pay for that in the long run.”

  “Consider it done,” the President said. “I’ll tell Prescott you couldn’t be moved. Unfortunately, I’ll have to deflect most of his anger onto you.”

  “I welcome his anger, I assure you it will come to nothing. I’m glad we could reach an agreement,” the Adjuster said. “And you’ve learned to never underestimate my drive to build a better world for my beloved daughters.”

  #

  After the meeting with the President, the Adjuster got back to his work. The first thing he did was look over the names of the people who had repeatedly abused their Carbon Credit Rations. He didn’t need to do this. He had never once pardoned a single person. He felt he owed it to the people whose lives would be sacrificed to handle it himself and not just have the computer seal their fate.

  He saw Prescott Winsor’s daughter, Tracy, on the list. He was totally unmoved. On the next line down he came across Maria’s name. For the first time since he set up the office his hand hesitated. He checked her citizens ID number to make sure it wasn’t a mistake as his hand involuntarily drifted over to the pardon button.

  He thought to himself that he could do it just this one time. He could then cover it up and no one would know.

  “No one but me.” He thought to himself as he dismissed the idea. “If I show weakness this one time, I’ll be more easily tempted the next, and the next. Then the whole system will break down and everything I’ve worked for will come to nothing.”

  “Sweet Maria, I hope your sister can handle her credits better than you did,” the Adjuster said out loud.

  The Adjuster didn’t shed one tear as he hit the button that sentenced his daughter to death.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Darrell B. Nelson is a former Securities Broker and Insurance Agent who has decided to use the total meltdown of his former industry, and the total destruction of any illusions of personal financial security the meltdown caused, as an opportunity to pursue a writing career.

  CONNECT WITH ME ONLINE:

  Blog: https://projectsaviorreborn.blogspot.com/

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  email me any comments good or bad at: [email protected]

 


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