We were a motley group at the Global Climate Conference. The three scientists were Belgians,” he spoke softly, “Who couldn’t give a damn about a great state beyond their borders,” he finished bitterly.” The others were Americans; an old New Yorker, angry at what he thought was the government’s incompetence in preparation for an impending major catastrophe, and a married couple, having spent a decade on a research team in Alaska. A fourth member was an African, who worked diligently to educate his people - poor families - on the dangers of global warming, hoping to save them before it was too late.
The meeting took place in a high-rise, four lane thoroughfare in Brussels, on the 12th floor, in a conference room looking out on a landscape powdered with a dirty snow from a recent storm. Soon though, even that snow would be gone, melted in a month, drifted into a far corner of Europe. “The city that never sleeps,” they called it, although most of the time it did. Before I was assigned to this group, I was a climatologist, but no longer. Climate was in my blood, I was a scientist devoted to studying and protecting the Earth, but now employed to bring about its ruin. From now on, I would be on the opposite side. I would no longer be a force for good in the world, but an agent of destruction. As our conversation progressed, I found that I was becoming increasingly agitated within myself. I finally interrupted, “I’m not a fool, you know; I’ve read the scientific reports. It’s not that hard to predict global warming in the next 50 years. But I’ve warned the state governments of the threat, and they don’t listen. I wish that they would pay attention to me.”
My thoughts were interrupted by a phone call. There were a number of satellites in orbit, and the phone was connected through to one of them. “A message is coming through, try not to talk over it.” We went silent for a few minutes. The New Yorker, who regained his composure first, began to speak again. “Gentlemen, it’s a conspiracy. Big business doesn’t want any government regulation. If big government can’t make enough money from people’s taxes, it will sell the oil companies off to private industry.” “I don’t think so,” began the African. “I think it’s about the potential for windfall profits. They see oil as the last great resource. If we were to invest in ways of extracting oil from beneath the Antarctic ice, we would be extremely wealthy, as it’s estimated that the total oil supply in the Earth’s crust is a third of the liquid in our planet.”
The New Yorker interrupted again. “That reminds me of the big push for oil drilling that's taking place in the Arctic. Just this week, the Bush administration has issued a new bill, saying that no lands off of Alaska’s coast should be reserved for refuges.” “That is complete stupidity,” said the African. “Surely nothing in the Arctic known as the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge can be called ‘wetland’.” The New Yorker waved the idea away. “There’s more, to think. The president will soon announce a new National Parks Expansion Act.” “What’s the point, anyhow?” asked the African. “It’s a waste, wilderness designation is foolish and it costs a lot of money to build roads and runways. The money would be better off spent on funding our research for a way to save us from global heating.”
At that moment, the phone beeped - the message was incoming. We looked at the screen and saw where the message was originating. It was being sent by a man named “HouseofGemini”, which I thought was rather curious. As we listened to the message, the source of its origin grew more and more curious. “Gemini” told us that the government had intercepted a transmission that was similar to our mission, and a plan immediately sprang into the minds of the Americans at the table.
The Americans were soon planning a dangerous, but potentially rewarding and lucrative mission. They wanted to go to the South Pole to find this transmission and pursue it. This would be personally profitable for the Americans, but dangerous for them, and for the planet. The scientists knew that this mission was not something that would be beneficial to the world and that the plan was ludicrous and dangerous. As the idea began to crystallize, the group saw that this would, perhaps, be the way that proof could be provided of global warming. No longer would it be a matter of speculation between scientists, who could not be convinced of the truth by any other means. The proof would be in the pudding, but there would be two problems. The first was how to make this an international operation, and the second was how to get the South Pole out of the hands of an oil company, owned by the company that planned to put carbon into the atmosphere. It seemed impossible, but fortunately, the New Republik of Belgium was able to offer an answer to that problem.
Some of the details were still unclear to us, but we were given a full-scale partnership, and a plan of action. The research team would set up its base camp at the Pole, a lone scientific outpost that would be the base of operations for the mission.
Pic (Source)