“Political consensus is hard to build and easy to destroy. So yes, I can convince the UN General Assembly to oppose the disk array, even if the Climate Council is still backing it. But building a new consensus around Nanoglass will be much harder. Fortunately, Nanoglass is cheap enough that we don’t need a consensus. I only need to find one government willing to pay for it.”
“Won’t that divide the UN?” asked Tania.
“Yes,” said Tengri. “And that worries me. Whomever ends up in control will have a lot of unchecked power.”
“I’m glad that’s your department,” said Tania. “Let me get this data to my simulations guys. We can compare both plans and see which way we need to steer this. Given how risky this sounds, maybe the disk array is still the best option.”
“In the meantime, I’ll start making some inquiries to see if I can find a sponsor for the Nano-glass shield,” said Tengri. “It’s going to be an interesting week.”
***
Gordon walked into Tania’s office five days later, brandishing his omni. “Done,” he announced. “A full statistical breakdown: The Nanoglass shield versus the disk array. We simulated the effects of weather control by filtering out extreme events. And where the audit data was dubious, I used a least-squares extrapolation from the last good sample.” He tapped his omni to her display. “Brace yourself.”
He hovered behind her, pacing back and forth as Tania scrolled through the pages.
“My God,” said Tania. “How can these numbers be correct? The disk array leads to a billion deaths? A billion?” She pushed herself back from the desk, as if distance might make sense of the graphs.
“I thought there was some error in my code,” said Gordon, scratching at his gray stubble. “But it checks out. As we suspected, the disk array takes too long.” He leaned over, zooming in on a section of the graph. “If we aren’t pushing temperatures down within two years, we’ll lose the rest of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet. Tenmeter sea level rises. Methane bubbling out of the Arctic Ocean.”
Tania massaged her temples. “So we have to sulfur, which causes more monsoon failures when global food stockpiles are already decimated from the last ones. Wars break out. A billion deaths over ten years. Got it.” After two centuries of Malthusian false alarms, Earth’s wealth had finally run out. The oceans barren. The best farmland poisoned by over-fertilizing, or salted by over-watering. Aquifers sucked dry. Mighty rivers turned to dust as their glacial anchors vanished. What does a billion deaths even look like?
“If we changed food distribution it would help,” said Gordon hopefully.
President Juarez whispered in Tania’s memory: “Do you know how powerful the cattle lobbies are?”
“That won’t happen,” said Tania. “At least not to the extent we need.”
She felt sick. Displaced. Like the whole conversation was happening to somebody else, some stranger she didn’t care about. She stood up, paced to the window. A billion. Puffy white clouds rolled down the barren mountain slopes.
“So show me Nanoglass,” she said. “Is it an alternative?”
“It’s both better, and worse,” said Gordon. “There’s a wider range of possibilities. If everything goes right and we combine it with good planetary management, we can cut off much of the crisis. But if something goes wrong with the lunar manufacturing, we could be waiting ten years instead of five. Although even then, fatalities only go up to 1.2 billion.”
“Because the vulnerable can’t starve to death twice,” said Tania.
“Pretty much,” said Gordon.
“So what do the numbers say?” asked Tania. “If you factor in the probability of various outcomes, is the Nanoglass shield worth the risk?”
“It depends how you weight things,” said Gordon. “But it’s our only chance at a way out.”
Tania spun her gorilla coin on the desk. She could taste the burning forest,
“Won’t that divide the UN?” asked Tania.
“Yes,” said Tengri. “And that worries me. Whomever ends up in control will have a lot of unchecked power.”
“I’m glad that’s your department,” said Tania. “Let me get this data to my simulations guys. We can compare both plans and see which way we need to steer this. Given how risky this sounds, maybe the disk array is still the best option.”
“In the meantime, I’ll start making some inquiries to see if I can find a sponsor for the Nano-glass shield,” said Tengri. “It’s going to be an interesting week.”
***
Gordon walked into Tania’s office five days later, brandishing his omni. “Done,” he announced. “A full statistical breakdown: The Nanoglass shield versus the disk array. We simulated the effects of weather control by filtering out extreme events. And where the audit data was dubious, I used a least-squares extrapolation from the last good sample.” He tapped his omni to her display. “Brace yourself.”
He hovered behind her, pacing back and forth as Tania scrolled through the pages.
“My God,” said Tania. “How can these numbers be correct? The disk array leads to a billion deaths? A billion?” She pushed herself back from the desk, as if distance might make sense of the graphs.
“I thought there was some error in my code,” said Gordon, scratching at his gray stubble. “But it checks out. As we suspected, the disk array takes too long.” He leaned over, zooming in on a section of the graph. “If we aren’t pushing temperatures down within two years, we’ll lose the rest of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet. Tenmeter sea level rises. Methane bubbling out of the Arctic Ocean.”
Tania massaged her temples. “So we have to sulfur, which causes more monsoon failures when global food stockpiles are already decimated from the last ones. Wars break out. A billion deaths over ten years. Got it.” After two centuries of Malthusian false alarms, Earth’s wealth had finally run out. The oceans barren. The best farmland poisoned by over-fertilizing, or salted by over-watering. Aquifers sucked dry. Mighty rivers turned to dust as their glacial anchors vanished. What does a billion deaths even look like?
“If we changed food distribution it would help,” said Gordon hopefully.
President Juarez whispered in Tania’s memory: “Do you know how powerful the cattle lobbies are?”
“That won’t happen,” said Tania. “At least not to the extent we need.”
She felt sick. Displaced. Like the whole conversation was happening to somebody else, some stranger she didn’t care about. She stood up, paced to the window. A billion. Puffy white clouds rolled down the barren mountain slopes.
“So show me Nanoglass,” she said. “Is it an alternative?”
“It’s both better, and worse,” said Gordon. “There’s a wider range of possibilities. If everything goes right and we combine it with good planetary management, we can cut off much of the crisis. But if something goes wrong with the lunar manufacturing, we could be waiting ten years instead of five. Although even then, fatalities only go up to 1.2 billion.”
“Because the vulnerable can’t starve to death twice,” said Tania.
“Pretty much,” said Gordon.
“So what do the numbers say?” asked Tania. “If you factor in the probability of various outcomes, is the Nanoglass shield worth the risk?”
“It depends how you weight things,” said Gordon. “But it’s our only chance at a way out.”
Tania spun her gorilla coin on the desk. She could taste the burning forest,
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