make more sense to get into that before it really takes off?”
“I leave that stuff to people like Mark Greene. Renewables are fine for wealthy countries but most of the world has to rely on cheaper sources of energy. Coal for example.”
I can already feel the warmth of the wine starting to spread through me. My head feels lighter like there’s a bubble behind my eyes. I like it.
“But those poorer countries are probably the ones that are going to be the worst affected by global warming. They need investment in renewables more than anyone.”
“I agree, in time. For now, if Ellis Energy doesn’t own their coal plants, someone else will. The choice isn’t between renewables and coal—as you saw today—the choice is between responsibly managed fossil fuels and people whose only concern is how much money they can make before the world dies.”
He’s right. Of course he’s right. Maybe I’ve been naïve. Am I supposed to believe that he’s motivated by principles in the same way I am? He was magnificent in the meeting earlier today but I don’t know if I’m ever going to be sure if it's just all about the money or if he really does care.
“When will the time be right to change though? Seems like that’s just an excuse so you can justify how you keep making billions out of your investments.”
Kyan sips his whiskey and turns to look thoughtfully at the lonely jazz pianist in the corner of the room.
“You might be right,” he says after a while, “The money doesn’t mean that much to me anymore. Once you’ve made a billion, how much difference does another billion make? We’re reducing pollution and increasing safety in our plants all the time—evolution not revolution—but I…I want to leave something more. A legacy.”
It might just be the alcohol talking, but this is a side to Kyan I haven’t seen before.
“A legacy? Like what?” I ask.
“Like changing the world. Like something more than just having the biggest bank balance,” says Kyan, “Growing up I promised myself that I wouldn’t live with poverty forever and that, one day, I would change the world. Thing is, you can’t change the world with a hundred thousand dollars or even with a hundred million dollars, not really. That’s why I had to keep making more money.”
“But how much is enough?” I say.
“I dunno,” replies Kyan, “But I feel like I’m getting close.”
I take another sip of wine, savoring the cool sweetness in my mouth that transforms into warmth as it slips down my throat.
It’s been a little more than a week since I met Kyan and in that time my opinion of him has swerved from liking him to hating him and back again with everything in-between. I’m getting whiplash from my feelings towards him. Every time we talk it’s like another layer of him falls away and between each layer that screams ‘asshole’ is one that suggests a deep, thoughtful, and caring nature.
“So how are you liking your time at Ellis Energy so far? Better than you thought it would be?”
“I…I have to admit, I’m enjoying it,” I say.
I can’t deny it. If I was still at Greene Earth I would probably have spent the week preparing dull reports, no way would I have got to fly on a private jet.
“It only gets better. There will be more meetings like today and hopefully you’ll be with me in them.”
“Really? Me? Aren’t there other people who you want to—”
“Nope. Did you see the look on Huang’s face when you called him out on his little scam? They were expecting us to just be wowed by those numbers he gave us and accept whatever he wanted, but you saw straight through them. You did great.”
Kyan’s hand is on mine before he finishes speaking. Almost by instinct my eyes close and I lean in towards him.
What the hell are you doing Clara? You’re going to make an idiot of yourself! flashes through my mind. Time seems to stop. It’s a mistake. It has to be. No good can come of
“I leave that stuff to people like Mark Greene. Renewables are fine for wealthy countries but most of the world has to rely on cheaper sources of energy. Coal for example.”
I can already feel the warmth of the wine starting to spread through me. My head feels lighter like there’s a bubble behind my eyes. I like it.
“But those poorer countries are probably the ones that are going to be the worst affected by global warming. They need investment in renewables more than anyone.”
“I agree, in time. For now, if Ellis Energy doesn’t own their coal plants, someone else will. The choice isn’t between renewables and coal—as you saw today—the choice is between responsibly managed fossil fuels and people whose only concern is how much money they can make before the world dies.”
He’s right. Of course he’s right. Maybe I’ve been naïve. Am I supposed to believe that he’s motivated by principles in the same way I am? He was magnificent in the meeting earlier today but I don’t know if I’m ever going to be sure if it's just all about the money or if he really does care.
“When will the time be right to change though? Seems like that’s just an excuse so you can justify how you keep making billions out of your investments.”
Kyan sips his whiskey and turns to look thoughtfully at the lonely jazz pianist in the corner of the room.
“You might be right,” he says after a while, “The money doesn’t mean that much to me anymore. Once you’ve made a billion, how much difference does another billion make? We’re reducing pollution and increasing safety in our plants all the time—evolution not revolution—but I…I want to leave something more. A legacy.”
It might just be the alcohol talking, but this is a side to Kyan I haven’t seen before.
“A legacy? Like what?” I ask.
“Like changing the world. Like something more than just having the biggest bank balance,” says Kyan, “Growing up I promised myself that I wouldn’t live with poverty forever and that, one day, I would change the world. Thing is, you can’t change the world with a hundred thousand dollars or even with a hundred million dollars, not really. That’s why I had to keep making more money.”
“But how much is enough?” I say.
“I dunno,” replies Kyan, “But I feel like I’m getting close.”
I take another sip of wine, savoring the cool sweetness in my mouth that transforms into warmth as it slips down my throat.
It’s been a little more than a week since I met Kyan and in that time my opinion of him has swerved from liking him to hating him and back again with everything in-between. I’m getting whiplash from my feelings towards him. Every time we talk it’s like another layer of him falls away and between each layer that screams ‘asshole’ is one that suggests a deep, thoughtful, and caring nature.
“So how are you liking your time at Ellis Energy so far? Better than you thought it would be?”
“I…I have to admit, I’m enjoying it,” I say.
I can’t deny it. If I was still at Greene Earth I would probably have spent the week preparing dull reports, no way would I have got to fly on a private jet.
“It only gets better. There will be more meetings like today and hopefully you’ll be with me in them.”
“Really? Me? Aren’t there other people who you want to—”
“Nope. Did you see the look on Huang’s face when you called him out on his little scam? They were expecting us to just be wowed by those numbers he gave us and accept whatever he wanted, but you saw straight through them. You did great.”
Kyan’s hand is on mine before he finishes speaking. Almost by instinct my eyes close and I lean in towards him.
What the hell are you doing Clara? You’re going to make an idiot of yourself! flashes through my mind. Time seems to stop. It’s a mistake. It has to be. No good can come of
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