Authors: Niko Perren
TANIA POPPED A stim, then slumped amongst the coffee cups and omnis scattered across the conference room table. Outside, sun flooded the xeriscaped UNBio campus gardens. Wisps of thin clouds drifted off the mountains. Tania closed her eyes for a moment, shutting out the din of the Pax Gaia nerve center. Twenty-four hours until we release full text. And then it gets really busy.
“Tania… sorry…” The young programmer swallowed nervously. “The Australian team just uploaded a new version of the Tasmania reforestation plan.”
“Damn it!” snapped Tania. “I said no more changes!” She sighed. “Is it good?”
The programmer nodded. “Yeah, it’s very good.”
“Put it in, then,” she whispered. She stood up, raising her voice over the noise. “Please. Everyone. Pax Gaia is frozen. No more changes. We’ll open it up again after tomorrow’s press conference. But I can’t have the details wiggling underneath me.” The hubbub ebbed for a moment, then swelled back to a busy roar. Like herding cats.
One of the technical editors waved from his corner workstation. “Tania, can you check the wording on this?”
“I can’t proofread all 2000 pages,” Tania muttered. She pushed past a team studying African rainfall patterns and scanned the document. “I like the second version better: ‘protect the environment by providing better opportunities for people in sensitive areas.’”
“Tania…” Aaargghh. She tuned out the voice and stepped to the window. I’m surprised we've been allowed to get this far. No beatings. No intimidation. Other than a bit of nasty press, the Pax Gaia planning had gone unmolested. President Juarez hadn’t even protested Tania’s continued role as UNBio Director.
“Tania…” The girl – Zoe? – could barely restrain her excitement.
“Please. Thirty seconds of peace.” I’m getting bitchy. It may be time to cut back on the stims. “Sorry. What do you need?”
“Your omni was ringing. It’s Bill Witty! From the Witty Show!”
“OK, thanks.” Tania took the omni. “Bill? What’s up?”
“Look,” said Witty. He switched to video. Four astronauts, bright suits splashed with corporate logos, danced in a shimmering multicolored cloud, their bodies slicing ribbons of darkness through the flowing particles. Their rhythm was terrible, but the effect was as comic as it was startling. A madcap image that could become an iconic moment for an entire generation.
Tania laughed. “That’s fantastic!”
“I’d think we should invite them on the show with you next week,” said Witty. “This video is going to go viral. We should ride the publicity to cap our first week of campaigning.”
Tania nodded. “I’ve got a conference call to the moon scheduled for later today to ask for an endorsement,” she said. “I’ll see what they say.”
Tania’s omni vibrated. Khan Tengri. “Sorry, Bill, gotta run.” She switched to the incoming call. “Khan. Are you as exhausted as I?”
Tengri nodded, grinning. His beard had lost its normal precision, but his eyes sparkled with an enthusiasm that reminded Tania of the old days, when he’d been her happy-go-lucky thesis advisor rather than this grizzled political veteran.
“I was up all night promoting Pax Gaia,” he said. “I’m getting lots of interest among the General Assembly. Unfortunately, everyone’s waiting for the first opinion polls before they commit publicly.”
“Cowards,” scoffed Tania. “Whatever happened to leaders who weren’t afraid to seize an opportunity?”
“They’re called dictators,” said Tengri. “Sad evidence of our base instincts.”
“Well, we expected caution,” said Tania. “That’s why we’re revealing our supporters in waves. Stay in the news. Spin up momentum for a week, and then go on Witty and talk to billions of people.”
“How many environmental groups has Ruth recruited?”
Tania waved away an approaching simulation programmer. “Fifteen hundred. We plan to announce three hundred a day.”
Tengri smiled. “I’ve got fifty-three governments, assuming our PR ramp-up gives Pax Gaia good opinion polls. Should we call it a draw?”
“Fifty-three!” Tania almost kissed the camera. “What’s your dark secret?”
“I exploit the distrust politicians have for each other,” said Tengri. “With Juarez and Lui not providing Tamed Earth details, I’m helping everyone assume the worst. Many countries will be unable to feed themselves, unless the US and China provide rain.” Tengri yawned. “I could get twenty more if you’d let me make concessions. For instance, the Japanese will support Pax Gaia if you remove some of the fishing bans.”
“Remove fishing bans? What do they think they can still catch? We’ve eaten everything in the oceans except the plastic bags.”
“Plankton,” said Tengri.
“Plankton?” Tania’s nose wrinkled. “Why? Can you make pancakes out of it or something?”
“I don’t have a clue. I told them ‘no,’ of course.”
“I don’t know how we’d do this without you,” said Tania.
“I’ve collected a lot of favors in the last twenty years,” said Tengri. “They’ll be worth little once I retire. Thanks for letting me go out fighting.”
“What do you think of our chances now?”
“It’s hard to tell,” said Tengri. “Our opponents haven’t done anything yet. It’s easy to think we’re winning when the other team hasn’t taken to the field.”
“Yeah, it’s spooky,” said Tania. “Other than a few attacks on my credentials, they’ve been very quiet. Juarez even said that she ‘welcomed a constructive debate.’”
“It’s a smart strategy,” said Tengri. “Popular movements almost never succeed. They’re waiting to see if we implode. Why fight a divisive battle you don’t have to? But if we don’t implode, they will attack. They’re every bit as smart as we are, and much more ruthless.”
***
“I’m telling you, I’ve lived in Mumbai.” Rajit pushed away his empty cereal bowl. “I’m skeptical that anyone could restore the mangroves. I’ve seen the slums.”
“You’re getting hung up on specifics,” said Sharon in exasperation. “Read the overview.”
“I’m being efficient,” said Rajit. “If I sample random details, I can interpolate the quality of the entire plan.”
Jie pushed his scroll towards Rajit, waggling his finger under the relevant text. “Here. This is the slum redevelopment plan.”
The TV lit up, and Tania Black appeared, machine-gunning some final instructions off-screen. Jie caught a tantalizing glimpse of mountains behind Tania. Vegetated mountains. With clouds. And blue sky. Tania turned toward them, her face aglow with the same thrilled exhaustion that Jie had seen in Zhenzhen when Cheng had been born. “Sorry about that,” she said. “It’s a little crazy right now.”
“Yet Cheng says you helped him identify more insects last week,” said Jie. “Thank you. I don’t know how you find the time.”
Tania grinned. “I did have to draw the line at sending the messages in that cypher he’s using with Rajit. But it relaxes me. I think his mother’s not too thrilled, though. He’s mostly been finding cockroaches. He may even have discovered a new subspecies. A plastic eater.”
“That’s why he is national asset,” Jie said proudly.
“Is it true the government will take him away from you if you don’t support his education? It seems like such an assault against freedom.”
“Whose freedom?” asked Jie. “The parent or the child? Shouldn’t smart children with bad parents reach full potential? I applied to MIT, you know. Got accepted, but it was too expensive. In China, education is based on hard work, not social status. We have true class mobility.”
“We have scholarships,” said Tania. “Just enough people beat the odds to preserve our national myth that anybody can succeed.” She laughed. “I’ve obviously bought into it, or I’d have dropped Pax Gaia long ago. Instead, here we are, hoping that the common people can score a victory.” She swung the camera around to show the crowded room. “Have you had a chance to read the draft text?”
“I don’t think your plan for Mumbai will work,” said Rajit. “You’ll never get enough people to relocate.”
“Ummm…” Tania looked taken aback. “I don’t have the details memorized. But don’t underestimate our ability to influence migration through urban design. The appendix has a documentary on my work in Guatemala City. Fifty percent of the surrounding area is now wilderness.”
Sally raised her hand. “Did you get enough support to hold a referendum in China? I’m sure our voters would like this.”
Tania shook her head. “Your government has declared the shield a security matter. So no referendums. They don’t trust your voters it seems. That’s why I need endorsements from people like you.”
“You have my support,” said Sharon. They all nodded.
“And we can join your promotional tour when we get back to Earth,” said Sally. “We’re scheduled to leave in ten days. As soon as we install the last Nanoglass factory. We’ll have a full week on Earth before the UN Climate Summit.”
Tania beamed. “I was hoping you’d offer. Speaking of which, would you be interested in being video guests on the Witty Show next week? I’m going on the show to cap the first full week of our publicity rampup. Witty wants to leverage the dancing astronauts meme.”
“The what?” Sharon and Sally spoke as one. Everyone looked at Jie.
“How should I know?” asked Jie.
“Don’t you get the news?” asked Tania. “You’re all media sensations.”
“We’ve been studying Pax Gaia since breakfast,” said Sharon. “Earthcon, care to show us what she’s talking about?”
Moments later they were on screen, dancing in the Nanoglass tiles. Jie squirmed with embarrassment at his stumble after the somersault. That was a private moment. Like singing in the shower.
“Who took that?” demanded Sharon. Her voice lowered. “Earthcon? That’s from the mining truck camera.”
“Don’t blame me. I wasn’t on shift. But all images of you belong to our sponsors. Read the fine print in your contracts. Your faces are regularly on TV.”
“Really?” Sharon didn’t sound happy.
Tania nodded. “Sharon, your face sells retirement timeshares. And GBOP has something called the Jie burger. But be that as it may, you should still be proud of this. You’re sharing happiness.”
***
Tania tried to leave the office on time, but last-minute issues meant that the sun was behind the mountains by the time she got on her bike. The security camera showed a crowd of reporters waiting at the UNBio campus front gates. I don’t have the energy. I just want to get to Ruth’s party. She biked the other way, past the “Stay on Paved Trails” sign, and let gravity carry her down the steep dirt track that intersected the road below the first switchback.
She cruised past glass cocoons full of angry commuters. Colorado had started the long-awaited upgrades to the transportation grid, and software bugs had already brought every motorized vehicle to a standstill twice that week. She kept her speed down, steering well clear of cars in case the grid rebooted. A cyclist had been killed yesterday when a bus had gone into reverse in Colorado Springs. The failsafes had been fixed now – at least according to the red-faced city planners – but a careful cyclist was a breathing cyclist.
A few blocks from Ruth’s house the traffic lurched to life, moving by stops and starts. A car drove onto a lawn and spun in a circle before grinding to a halt in a hedge. Tania retreated to the sidewalk and walked her bike the rest of the way, keeping a wary eye over her shoulder for pursuing vehicles. She locked her bike in Ruth’s shed and climbed up the wooden stairs, tapping her omni to Ruth’s security pad to let herself in.
Thumping music mixed with a roar of conversation. It smelled of pizza and pot. “I hope you haven’t eaten it all.” How many people has Ruth invited? A few friends from environmental groups, she’d promised. This sounds like a large value of “few.”
The living room felt like a college bar on the last day of classes. Tania recognized some of the faces from her days with Earthsayer. Dune, from Nature Conservancy. Skye, from World Wildlife Fund. Pedro, from Greenpeace. Ruth leaned against the wall, one arm wrapped around a dread-locked beauty, the other holding a beer.
“Did you recruit the astronauts?” Ruth asked. The conversation lulled, and all eyes turned to Tania, anticipating good news with which to justify another round of drinks.
“I got four video endorsements,” said Tania. “They’re joining me on Witty. And they’ll promote Pax Gaia in a speaking tour after they land! According to Tian Jie, ‘There’s nothing like spending half a year on a lifeless rock to help you realize how precious the earth is.’”
Her words triggered enthusiastic applause and a clinking of glasses. “I love it! That’s exactly what we need!” The speaker, a handsome black man, sat crosslegged in front of the mostly empty pizza boxes. Gary? Yes, Gary from Earth First. He settled a slice of pizza on a plate and handed it to Tania along with a beer from the cooler. “Join me?” He shifted over to make room on the floor.
Ruth glanced significantly at Gary. “Cute,” she mouthed.
Yes, cute. Tania sat down. The pizza was cold already, the cheese transformed back into a greasy solid, but it still tasted delicious.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the happy sounds of the party. It’s nice to celebrate in biking shorts instead of formal attire. Tomorrow, she’d make the Pax Gaia announcement, and then she’d move from the world of science and analysis to weeks of speeches and backroom meetings.