Read Portent Online

Authors: James Herbert

Portent (11 page)

    It was soon plain to the climatologist that his host's knowledge of the global crisis was wider ranging: Poggs had conducted detailed studies of every disaster, both major and minor, over the past few years that was environment-related, these as diverse as the widescale spread of infectious diseases and the lack of snow for skiing in the Alps. It had slowly dawned on him where he had heard Poggs' name before: some years ago, this man's paper on 'soft engineering'-working with nature, rather than against it -had been widely acclaimed both for its sound premise and its cost-effectiveness. Later he had predicted the rise in the levels of the planet's oceans because of global warming, listing the countries whose lowlands would be swamped as well as the islands that would disappear altogether. At the time he had been labelled a 'climate hypochondriac', even a 'geophysical Cassandra', and there were enough scientists and fellow-geologists who disagreed with his calculations for Poggs to earn himself media, and thus public, score.
    The fact that this prediction, and others he had made around the same time concerning the future condition of the planet, were proving to be correct of late might well have won him considerable esteem from those same detractors had it not been for one further and quite astounding hypothesis he had presented to the world. From then on Poggs had been dismissed as an eccentric, albeit a rather brilliant one.
    Little had been heard of the man since, hence Rivers' only vague recollection of the name when Poggs had first called. Yet during their discussions throughout the day, he had heard nothing from the man that might have been considered remotely 'eccentric'; however, so far they had not touched on the subject of 'luminous phenomena'.
    Poggs had listened as well as talked, showing a keen interest in Rivers' own opinions on the climate and environmental changes which were, of course, backed by the unique amount of data available to him in his capacity as a senior scientific officer at the Meteorological Office.
    At no time had the climatologist felt under pressure, for although Poggs and his daughter-in-law asked many questions, none required answers that might have been deemed 'official secrets'. He had begun to relax with these people and indeed, had been keen to take on certain information that his own special working group had either overlooked or had paid scant attention to because of data 'overload'. An example was the variable but widespread warming of the Alaskan permafrost (a gauge that changes temperature more slowly than the air and thus often provides a more accurate measurement), a factor that Poggs had determined through his own researches and one which Rivers' own department had inexcusably neglected, perhaps because further evidence of global warming was hardly necessary. However, it was important as far as maintaining complete and precise records was concerned.
    When Poggs' wife joined them again the night was closing in, and shadows in the garden were merging into the natural gloom.
    'The mites are abed,' she told them, switching on a lamp and giving the climatologist a brief but warm smile. 'And waiting for a kiss and a cuddle from Mama. They've already had a chapter, Diane, so don't let them kid you otherwise.'
    Diane stood and brushed out the creases in her denim skirt. 'I won't be long. Mr. Rivers, we'd be pleased if you'd stay over. Believe it or not, there's still plenty more to talk about, and we'd hate to think of you driving all that way back to London tonight. Besides, even though Mack's given your car the okay, you don't know that it won't give you problems on the journey. Much better in daylight hours if it does, don't you think?'
    Rivers glanced at his watch. 'I didn't realize it was getting so late. Thanks for your offer, but no. I've, uh, I've got things to do tomorrow.'
    Poggs eyed him almost cautiously. 'Now we should discuss the curious orb of light.'
    There was a sudden awkward silence in the room.
    'I was wondering when we'd get around to it.'
    Poggs cleared his throat, a gruff, rumbling sound, and thrust his unlit pipe between his teeth.
    'I guess we wanted you to know us a little better before we mentioned it.' Diane's tone was apologetic.
    'We don't want you to think we're completely mad, you see,' explained Bibby with a mischievous glint in her eye.
    He returned her smile. 'So far you've convinced me that you're not wholly insane. But then there's more than just one topic we've avoided.' He turned to look directly at Poggs. 'I seem to recall that several years ago you upset the scientific establishment with
    a certain public proclamation. I've been sitting here trying like hell to remember what it was exactly, but it's no good, it won't come to me. What I do know is that it didn't do much for your credibility.' Poggs chewed the end of his pipe for a few moments, his thoughts reflective, a faint smile on his lips.
    Diane opened the door. 'At this point I think I'll see to Josh and Eva. I won't be long.' They listened to her footsteps recede down the hall.
    'Of course you're referring to the Mother Earth hypothesis. Hardly a proclamation on my part. In fact, it's an age-old concept, but one that was first advanced in scientific terms in the early '70s by a rather brilliant man called James Lovelock, who concluded that the Earth is not merely a haven for life, but is alive itself-or herself, if you prefer-a single organism where life-forms and the environment continually interact to maintain a life-preserving equilibrium. Lovelock and I were like-minded on many issues in those days, although it has to be said that he regarded the effects of toxic pollution with less gravity than I. Rather than spend money on a catalytic converter for your car's engine, plant a tree, was his line.' Poggs huffed a short laugh. 'I have to say, he had a point. He also regarded nuclear power as a benign energy, much to the annoyance of purist conservationists, and I went along with him on that one. Unfortunately we disagreed fundamentally on his GAIA theory.'
    'GAIA…?'
    'The Greek Earth goddess-a fanciful name for a serious idea.'
    'And your disagreement?'
    'Ah. Well, first let me set out what we both subscribed to, namely that the Earth is, in itself, a regulatory system, alive and ever-watchful.' Poggs was quick to notice the mild irritation on the other man's face. 'No, I don't mean "alive" in the sense that we in this room are alive. There are other definitions.'
    Rivers nodded noncommittally: it wasn't a point worth arguing at that moment.
    Poggs continued. 'As far as we know the Earth's atmosphere has always been unstable, full of gases continuously reacting against one another until, you might have expected, they reached their own compromise, finally interacting to bring about an equable and enduring atmosphere. Yet this has never happened, there has never been any such movement towards that stability; and just as well-it could have led to the cessation of all those organisms the instability supported, including mankind itself. Instead, the turmoil in the atmosphere goes on, while we humans lead our daily lives unaware of the conflict, mainly because the oxygen content and temperature have remained pretty damn-well constant over the past few millions of years. We-Lovelock and I-agreed that something was working to organize and, of course, re-organize all of this, our conclusion being that the organizer was one vast organism: Mother Earth, itself.' He rested back in the big leather chair, allowing Rivers time to take it in.
    'I can see why the pair of you were at odds with your fellow-scientists,' Rivers remarked. 'It's a little subversive, isn't it?' Poggs chuckled. 'And so science should be. Isn't that the essence of radical discovery-a non-acceptance of the laid-down rules?'
    Bibby, who had taken Diane's seat by the window, spoke with mild impatience. 'Poggsy, dear, I think our guest would rather you got to the point than indulge in waggish profundities. I'm a little worn out myself-no, dear, not because of your never-less-than-brilliant discourse, but because of this dratted humidity.'
    'You're quite right,' her husband conceded. 'I must admit to feeling rather drained myself. D'you know, I think we could do with another storm to clear the air.'
    'Heaven forbid it should be like this morning's,' she groaned, fanning herself with a sheaf of papers she had picked up from the comer of the trestle table.
    'Now, yes, to get to the point, as Bibby so tactfully suggested. Well… well, where was I?'
    'I think you were getting to your fundamental disagreement with the GAIA theory.'
    'Yes, and the reason the scientific establishment took further umbrage at me. God knows, they were upset enough by Lovelock's hypothesis without me adding my tuppence-worth. Poor chaps thought I was more bonkers than Lovelock.' He chortled at the thought, the laugh ending in a wheezing cough.
    His wife frowned anxiously.
    'You see,' said Poggs, regaining his composure. 'You see, according to Lovelock the Earth acts to stabilise the environment for its own survival, rather than the survival of the organisms that live upon or below its surface. Certain processes will always take over to rid the seas of pollution and to negate the harmful gases in the air. It's a perfectly natural procedure for GAIA, an innate function of its own self-preservation programme; and Lovelock places no significant importance on human life as far as GAIA is concerned, and believing that it's we who may well be the species to suffer while other, tougher, life-forms will survive.'
    'Hugo…' Bibby warned.
    'Yes, yes, I'm coming to it.' He shook his head at her prompting. 'It is, and always has been, my contention that in some metaphysical way the Earth acts'-he tapped the table before him with his pipe stem for emphasis-'to sustain mankind itself.'
    Rivers reached for his last cigarette and lit up, oblivious of the disapproving frown from Bibby. Poggs sucked fruitlessly on his empty pipe and waited for a comment.
    Tense once more and inexplicably resentful (perhaps it was the realization that the long, uncomfortable, and eventually hazardous journey had been wasted after all), the climatologist exhaled a stream of grey smoke before speaking. 'That's quite a bizarre declaration from a scientist.' It had taken an effort of will to put it so mildly.
    'Oh, I don't know,' Poggs replied affably. 'From geology to geophysics to metaphysics doesn't seem such a peculiar progression to me. It depends on what one has managed to absorb along the way, I suppose. And if one is willing to progress.'
    Bibby waved the air in front of her to clear the trail of smoke that had drifted towards her. 'I'm not surprised at your cynicism, Mr. Rivers. As a matter of fact, we've learned to accept it from all quarters. As well as causing a serious schism between my husband and James Lovelock, it also damaged his reputation as a geologist of note and as a Fellow of the Royal Society. Ridicule is not an easy thing to live with, especially if one's motives are sincere.'
    Rivers tapped ash into the saucer thoughtfully provided by Diane earlier in the day and twice emptied since. He felt a cold pressure building up inside, a mounting rage that he had difficulty in controlling. 'I'm sure it isn't. But sincerity doesn't compensate for lack of hard evidence. Can you present me with anything to support this… this notion? As you've obviously failed to convince your peers, I presume not.'
    'There are things I can tell you…'
    'Firm evidence?'
    'That's impossible in a hypothesis of this nature.'
    Rivers started to rise. 'Yeah, I guess it must be. For a while there you almost had me hooked. I thought I was dealing with reasonable people, and I admit, I was interested in most of what you had to say. But now…'He held up a hand in a gesture of frustration. 'Now I'm not so sure. I came here hoping to learn something important, because believe me, I've looked into the whole business of light phenomena since my accident and I've found nothing to explain what I saw that day inside the storm.' He stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette. 'So what do I get from you? A belief that the Earth and its people are all part of the same complicated bundle, no real difference between us.'
    'That isn't quite what I meant,' interrupted Poggs.
    'Never mind-it's close enough. Next I suppose you'll be asking me to join some quasi-religious cult as a means of finding the true light. Come on, is that what this is really all about, a weird kind of mystic symbolism that just might support your own beliefs? Sorry, but to me it's bullshit.'
    'I don't understand your anger.'
    And in truth, neither did Rivers himself. 'Call it frustration,' he said, making towards the door.
    Bibby rose swiftly. 'Mr. Rivers, we honestly didn't mean to…'
    'Sure,' he said, stopping for a moment. 'No doubt your intentions are honourable enough in your own minds, but what you have to understand is that I don't have time for all this. Things are too desperate, too bloody serious, for this kind of absurdity.' Maybe it was tiredness, maybe it was the painful throbbing in his leg that had started twenty minutes ago; he only knew he had to get out of there, away from these people and their Mother Earth nonsense and kids who saw lights thousands of miles away. Enough was enough.
    Poggs remained seated, but his voice was anxious. 'You've got to listen.'
    Rivers' grin was unpleasant. 'Oh no I haven't.'
    He yanked open the door and limped down the hallway, his footsteps harsh against the polished wood flooring. The pressure was now pounding inside his head, so that his steps quickened and his teeth clenched together as if to suppress a groan. His intention was to find Diane so that he could get his own clothes back-dry or damp, he was changing into them and getting away from Hazelrod and back to the squalid city where at least the insanity was mundane. He gripped the bottom stair-post, swinging himself round to make the ascent.

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