around the room, and said, “We have to see what science and technology can do to lower the Earth’s thermostat. We have to move forward aggressively with geoengineering. I want you to consider everything that’s feasible, from CCS”—carbon capture and storage, usually underground—“to launching sulfates into space to reflect sunlight. We want to hear about whatever you think will work.”
Whoa. Jenna had assumed that geoengineering would be on the agenda—why else would they have invited her?—but not that it would be the agenda. And to talk so causally about using sulfates, in particular, was sobering to her. She’d actually had a nightmare about sulfates being blasted into the atmosphere, which she was willing to bet was one of the very few dreams about that odd subject ever to afflict humankind. Desperate to awaken, she dreamed she was standing at a window watching a beautiful sunny day turn bitter cold. Her reflection in the glass showed frost coating her face, and she felt her heartbeat slowing. Worse, in the dream she heard it stop, which awakened her, ironically enough, in a sweltering pool of perspiration.
“That’s what all of you have in common,” Percy said. “You’re acknowledged experts in your fields, and you’ve all expressed deep skepticism about our country’s willingness to take the steps required to reduce GHGs.” Greenhouse gases. Percy nodded at Norris, the prodigal son from NASA, who sat grimacing with his arms crossed. “You need to understand that we basically agree with those of you who have been most critical of your government’s efforts in this regard.”
“Hold on, Mr. Vice President,” NASA’s own said. “What you’re telling us—let’s cut to the quick here—is that there’s no real commitment to reduce GHGs, so now we’re going to tinker with the planet’s incredibly fragile heating and cooling system, something our forebears did a couple of hundred years ago, which some of us are now calling the ‘Industrial Rotisserie.’”
Percy ignored the play on words. “They increased temperatures by burning carbon-based fuels, and we intend to lower them.”
“Unbelievable. Do you have any understanding of the risks? This could kill all of us. Miserably.”
“We do, of course. But we think that doing nothing will be much worse.”
“But you won’t address the risks publicly?”
“No, we won’t. We recognize that this is the most serious crisis ever faced by any administration, but talking publicly would only set off panic.”
“If you’d spoken openly five years ago when you were running for—”
“That was then, this is now. Ben, let’s not squabble over what’s done. There’s no time. Look,” Percy pushed aside his notes and leaned forward, “we’ve tried complicated international agreements, and no one, including us, has ever lived up to them. And it’s not just climate change by itself that has us worried: The CIA has just completed a two-year research project investigating the impact of what’s happening with the planet on national security. The conclusions are dreadful: In Africa alone, warming is expected to make civil war as common as drought.”
No coincidence there, thought Jenna.
“Some Agency models predict four hundred thousand extra deaths from those extra wars in just the next twenty years. And none of us should think that we’ll be able to write those wars off as ‘just another African tragedy’ because the carnage will happen in the world’s most critical oil- and mineral-rich regions. Think of it: civil wars waged around the world’s biggest oil spigots. It’s happened before, and it’s going to happen a lot more in the future.”
The vice president held up a document from the stack in front of him. “This is the actual CIA report. It says we’ll risk being buried by defense spending because countries all over the world will be in open conflict.” He read from the report, “‘Nations will engage in armed
Whoa. Jenna had assumed that geoengineering would be on the agenda—why else would they have invited her?—but not that it would be the agenda. And to talk so causally about using sulfates, in particular, was sobering to her. She’d actually had a nightmare about sulfates being blasted into the atmosphere, which she was willing to bet was one of the very few dreams about that odd subject ever to afflict humankind. Desperate to awaken, she dreamed she was standing at a window watching a beautiful sunny day turn bitter cold. Her reflection in the glass showed frost coating her face, and she felt her heartbeat slowing. Worse, in the dream she heard it stop, which awakened her, ironically enough, in a sweltering pool of perspiration.
“That’s what all of you have in common,” Percy said. “You’re acknowledged experts in your fields, and you’ve all expressed deep skepticism about our country’s willingness to take the steps required to reduce GHGs.” Greenhouse gases. Percy nodded at Norris, the prodigal son from NASA, who sat grimacing with his arms crossed. “You need to understand that we basically agree with those of you who have been most critical of your government’s efforts in this regard.”
“Hold on, Mr. Vice President,” NASA’s own said. “What you’re telling us—let’s cut to the quick here—is that there’s no real commitment to reduce GHGs, so now we’re going to tinker with the planet’s incredibly fragile heating and cooling system, something our forebears did a couple of hundred years ago, which some of us are now calling the ‘Industrial Rotisserie.’”
Percy ignored the play on words. “They increased temperatures by burning carbon-based fuels, and we intend to lower them.”
“Unbelievable. Do you have any understanding of the risks? This could kill all of us. Miserably.”
“We do, of course. But we think that doing nothing will be much worse.”
“But you won’t address the risks publicly?”
“No, we won’t. We recognize that this is the most serious crisis ever faced by any administration, but talking publicly would only set off panic.”
“If you’d spoken openly five years ago when you were running for—”
“That was then, this is now. Ben, let’s not squabble over what’s done. There’s no time. Look,” Percy pushed aside his notes and leaned forward, “we’ve tried complicated international agreements, and no one, including us, has ever lived up to them. And it’s not just climate change by itself that has us worried: The CIA has just completed a two-year research project investigating the impact of what’s happening with the planet on national security. The conclusions are dreadful: In Africa alone, warming is expected to make civil war as common as drought.”
No coincidence there, thought Jenna.
“Some Agency models predict four hundred thousand extra deaths from those extra wars in just the next twenty years. And none of us should think that we’ll be able to write those wars off as ‘just another African tragedy’ because the carnage will happen in the world’s most critical oil- and mineral-rich regions. Think of it: civil wars waged around the world’s biggest oil spigots. It’s happened before, and it’s going to happen a lot more in the future.”
The vice president held up a document from the stack in front of him. “This is the actual CIA report. It says we’ll risk being buried by defense spending because countries all over the world will be in open conflict.” He read from the report, “‘Nations will engage in armed
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