The Carbon Cross (The Carbon Series Book 2)

by Randy Dutton

  “And if the government blocks building pipelines?” Sam asked.

  “That’s just another reason to grow crops or build large greenhouses close to natural gas fields,” Ed said.

  “From what I’m hearing, plunging CO2 levels may cause a redistribution of population and activity to otherwise under-populated areas,” Art commented. “The two trillion barrel shale oil deposits in Colorado, Utah, and Wyoming, with their CO2-producing potential, may change some of this country’s population centers.”

  “Exactly right, Art,” Pete said. “Carbon will be critical to growing the world’s food, and if it’s reduced in the atmosphere, either the world struggles with barely-surviving plants, or it has to adapt by recovering the deficient resource. Also, the greenhouses and field containment are going to be much more labor-intensive. It’ll need local populations to support them.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard,” Art interjected.

  Ed held up his index finger. “And I’d want to add, intensively growing crops in one location means we need to expand mineral resources.”

  “Such as?” Tom asked.

  “Phosphorus and potash. They’re critical to life, and phosphorus is in finite supply! The biofuel craze has accelerated its global depletion because of the fertilizer demand. Some reports claim there’s only a hundred years’ supply. The soil has a natural reserve of it, but removing nearly all the biomass from the ground for fuel prevents phosphorus from being recycled. We need to provide all the inputs in a greenhouse.”

  “Which means possible sea water mineral extraction,” Sam added. “I’ve got some friends at Lockheed-Martin. They’ve been doing more of that.”

  “Good idea. Check on that,” Tom said.

  Art asked, “Ed, regarding the labor, shouldn’t we get some urban planners involved in these discussions?”

  “Someday, Art. And that presumes CO2 rates crash.” Ed looked at Pete. “We don’t know for sure that will happen, and getting too many more people in these discussions may raise government’s ire. They may see us as a threat.”

  “Well, some speculators think food prices will go up. I’ve noticed agricultural commodity speculators starting to bet on even greater food shortages, possibly because of declining CO2,” Ed added.

  “Sure the speculation isn’t on declining productivity from restrained agricultural practices?” Sam mused. “I mean, after all Ed, this government’s as bad as the Soviets were about dictating policy.”

  “It’s hard to figure the exact reasons for people gambling,” Pete said as the group continued discussing agricultural issues.

  Chapter 91

  May 28, 2100 hours

  The Spider

  The intelligence operative touched a key to mute the speaker. On the computer monitor, the various sound level bars froze. “Maybe Pete Heyward’s hit upon an opportunity.” Yoav twisted his chair toward his boss who was nestling a hot coffee mug in both hands.

  “About why people gamble on food prices?” Gabriel’s brow narrowed.

  “Swanson’s biofuel gambit has been a bust. That doesn’t mean he can’t make an even bigger play.”

  “Speculating on food prices? Swanson’s been manipulating food commodities for decades.”

  “But has he been involved with actual production?”

  “It’s too mundane, and the payoff’s too distant. Swanson’s a bit long in the tooth to plan more than a decade ahead.”

  Yoav leaned back in his chair. “But what if he controlled the advanced technology needed to grow food in a decreasing CO2 world.”

  “Pre-empt the industrialists by using their ideas first?”

  “Exactly. What we’re eavesdropping on is a brilliant strategy session that foresees what we think may transpire. Think of it as insider trading, but without SEC vulnerability.”

  Gabriel’s head nodded slightly. “You’ve got a point. With CO2 concentrations leveling off, we’ve got a few months before the press starts fretting about the ‘what ifs’.... I’ll pass it by the boss..... But first, tell me. Who’s running surveillance for you?”

  Yoav grinned. “No one. We used the old NSA trick of running a remote exploit on an iPhone in the conference room.”

  “Who’s phone?”

  “Sam Chase. We hacked into his iPhone a week ago and inserted an app that mimics it being off.”

  “And you can turn it on at a whim?”

  “Yes. Without him knowing.”

  “Apparently it isn’t without problems.”

  “Yeah. Sorry about missing the first few minutes of their meeting. I didn’t expect them to turn their phones off.”

  “Heyward’s either paranoid or has a good tactical brain.”

  “Speaking of tacticians—” Yoav’s voice was hesitant.

  “You mean Starr, don’t you?”

  Yoav’s head bobbed with arched brows. “Starr’s kept her mouth shut while in jail.”

  Gabriel’s finger tapped the table while considering the half-empty communications center. He swiveled back to the monitor with its paused sound levels. “We’ve got some officials in Justice I can motivate. I’ll see what I can do.” His finger waggled at the mute button. “Meanwhile, let’s hear the rest.”

  Chapter 92

  May 28, 1400 hours

  Profit Oil HQ

  Dallas, TX

  A list appeared on the conference room screen. “Regarding the carbon sources....” Pete pointed to the first of several items as the planning conference continued. “It’s best to expand the sources. In addition to oil and natural gas, you can tap peat, wood, landfills, carbonate rock, geothermal vents, and methane ice from the ocean and tundra—”

  “Tundra?”

  “Yes. NASA estimates 1,600 billion metric tons of methane in permafrost, or half the estimated carbon stored in Earth’s soils, typically in the top three meters. Even the CO2 that industry is trying to sequester might be tapable.”

  “There’s a new technology you might incorporate to boost CO2.” All eyes turned to Art. “It’s called MOF, it’s a photosensitive metal organic framework.”

  “Isn’t that a type of sponge?” Sam asked.

  “Yes. It soaks up vast quantities of CO2 during industrial processes and releases it when exposed to sunlight. It’d be a good way to move carbon dioxide around to green houses.”

  Everyone was taking notes.

  “To get more methane, we’ve incorporated new robotic drilling technology adapted from the Mars Rover,” Tom added.

  “Drilling? How’ll that help?” Sam asked.

  “It allows more autonomous drilling. Computers direct snaking drill bits to find the best paths, and the pipes and supplies feed automatically. We also have drill bits with advanced sensors that tell us what they’ve found.”

  Pete added, “Guys, these ideas could be valuable, and may dictate growing locations for individuals as well as cities. Here’s what I predict...just like the pioneers first located near water, people eventually will migrate to carbon sources.”

  “Pete, will these invasive species ever die off?” Art asked.

  “We’re trying to find out by testing the genetic telomeres. If we’re lucky, the plagues may just die out or mutate to a less effective nuisance. The jury’s still out.”

  “Any way of reversing the plague’s CO2-absorbing effect?”

  “There’re a couple possibilities.” Pete rubbed his chin as he slowly paced around the room. “Nature may start breaking down the carbon detritus in the oceans’ sediment and in terrestrial soil layers. At that point, we might reach equilibrium.”

  “Can technology force the sea floor to release the carbon it accumulates?”

  He shook his head. “That’s not so easy, Art, because the phytoplankton excrete nearly pure carbon clumps, like carbon char. Where the carbon settles in the ocean bottom, there’s no oxygen to combine with it.”

  “What about the oxygen in water molecules?” Art probed.

  “Under immense temperatures and pres
sures, pure carbon and water create natural gas and carbon dioxide. But the ocean doesn’t provide the heat.”

  “But Pete,” Sam jumped in. “What if science created a life form that consumed carbon in an anaerobic environment? We could use some biological process to recirculate it into the atmosphere… and then, through another process, to create CO2.”

  “That may cause unintended problems.” Pete frowned.

  “Such as?”

  “We might be creating another invasive species,” Pete’s tone was cautionary. “Again, this is all speculative. We don’t know the full outcome of these plagues, and we’re part of a distinct minority that even thinks there’s a major problem.”

  “What’s the current CO2 concentration?” Sam asked.

  “It stabilized at 407.3 ppm last month. Ironically, it peaked around International Earth Day.”

  “I heard the UN Secretariat announced April as ‘Global Earth Salvation Month,’” Art said.

  “I tune out him and the president.” Sam smirked. “They’re always making pronouncements.”

  “Well, much of the press certainly lauds Fernandez,” Art replied. “They seem to think his presidency will go down as the greatest in history for having solved global warming.”

  “They wouldn’t think it’s so great if they read some of the recent scientific reports,” Pete said sourly.

  “Such as?”

  “Take your pick. Many scientists say the peak came too quickly to indicate stabilization. An increasing number predict a rapid CO2 decline. Cautionary reports are supposed to be published in the next couple months...if the journals allow it.”

  “Why wouldn’t the journals allow publication?” Sam had a puzzled expression.

  Art answered, “Because the government changed the definition of who is an expert and, therefore, who can be a peer reviewer. Remember? It’s contingent, now, upon having previously received federal funding.”

  “Isn’t that a conflict of interest? The government has a stated position, and only gives funding to those who agree? You’re an expert, but only if we’ve paid you?” Tom was amazed at the audacity.

  “And we’ll pay you only if you promote our position,” Art added.

  “This administration is full of conflicts of interest. But with a progressive Congress and a shamelessly servile press, who’s to rein it in?” Sam asked rhetorically.

  “Only the public can change the direction this government has taken us. But will it be too late?” Art shook his head.

  “Are the environmentalists cheering that?” Sam asked.

  “Those who don’t consider long-term effects,” Pete said. “But there are senior scientists who are projecting a continual decline.”

  “Which of the plagues do they figure is worse?” one of the others asked.

  “The phytoplankton,” Pete answered. “Half of all CO2 typically is absorbed by phytoplankton. With this variant, the rate of CO2 absorption is dramatically increased as the concentration increases.”

  “So the Fuzz and bacteria really don’t matter?” Sam asked.

  “Actually, they do. Here’s why – Fuzz has a very high surface area and is friable. In other words, it breaks apart easily. Just look at the weather reports – they’ve added Fuzz alerts to their pollen counts and aircraft visibility warning alerts. Not only does it rapidly absorb CO2, its lofting properties help the wind transport captured CO2 extremely long distances, and over the ocean. As the particles hit salt water, they add minerals that feed the phytoplankton, while the pure carbon sinks.”

  “And the bacteria...how’s it play in this?” Sam asked.

  “The bacteria accelerates CO2 and pollutant absorption from higher elevations.”

  “So it’s a good thing, because the bacteria removes pollutants?” Ed concluded.

  “That’s not necessarily good,” Pete elaborated. “Moving more minerals to the water’s surface increases the rate of phytoplankton growth.”

  “So, if I might rephrase”—Art chimed in—“Fuzz and bacteria are transport mechanisms to move carbon and minerals to the sea to feed the phytoplankton?”

  “Precisely. But something else is insidious.” The group was held spellbound by Pete’s prognostication of further disaster. “Fuzz prevents light from reaching the leaves on trees, and is burying ground cover, such as grasses, effectively smothering them. When they die, their roots rot, causing – okay, here’s a term I guarantee you haven’t heard – Sapro-xylophagy.” Pete grinned.

  The group looked at each other.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s it mean?” Tom smiled. “And don’t think I don’t know you’re showing off.”

  “And you thought my college years were all about the football,” Pete quipped. “Sapro-xylophagy is the activity of animals feeding only on dead wood. That’s dramatically increased. As they feed, CO2 is released, and is absorbed by the Fuzz ground cover. By the way Dad, have I said thank you for the tuition assistance?” Pete winked. “Anyway, detrivore and scavenger infestations are accelerating with the increase in dying wood—”

  “Detrivore?” Sam asked.

  “Animals that eat organic detritus on land and on the ocean bottom. You know – fungi, worms, dung flies, some crabs,” Pete explained.

  “Bottom feeders...you mean lawyers!” Sam laughed, and Ed joined in. Tom and Art just looked amused at Pete’s discomfort.

  Pete shook his head. “I used to enjoy lawyer jokes until a lawyer came to my Dad’s rescue, and another”— he smiled—“well...they’re not all bad.”

  Tom and Art chuckled.

  “Anyway...termites are scavengers and account for a considerable amount of released global CO2. And fungi release a lot of CO2 and methane. Released CO2 then filters through the Fuzz and stimulates its growth, followed by more fragments blowing in the wind and towards the sea. Over time, the biomass will decrease and the soil depletes.”

  “So cut to the chase, Pete. What’s this mean for our future?” Ed asked.

  “A disaster of epic proportion.”

  Their faces were drawn.

  “As carbon shifts to the ocean and is lost, land plants will wither and die, waterways will clog with Fuzz, and fires will decimate the weakened forests, converting biomass to unusable char or throwing carbon into the air to feed the bacteria. As a result, land will be destabilized from the lack of roots. The larger animals will die off first, then some of the smaller ones.”

  “And people?” Sam asked. “What happens to humanity?”

  “Let me address that,” Art interrupted. “Governments first will use this to increase control, but ultimately will fail. Government corruption will increase dramatically.”

  “I thought that was already happening!” Ed commented.

  “It’ll get worse, just like a banana republic. Cronyism will dictate governance. The infrastructure will start collapsing, as will the schools. As government leaders get scared of retribution they’ll implement censorship. Eventually, anarchy will destroy the governments and most communities will be on their own.”

  “That’s pretty bleak, Art!” Sam said.

  “Oh it gets much worse. Public services will diminish and the reduced police forces will protect mostly just the major business centers and the affluent.”

  “What makes you think that will happen?” Ed asked.

  “Look at failed countries. Argentina’s an example. Back in 2001 its economy collapsed and, in addition to what I described, they were beset with more extreme poverty and what the author of The Modern Survival Manual called, ‘commando criminals.’”

  Sam’s brow furrowed. “Commando criminals?”

  “Yeah.” Art slowly nodded while glancing at Pete. “No offense to our professional military and police, but some will desert to the dark side and use their training to plan and execute major crimes – you know, kidnappings, bank thefts, executions, cargo heists. That’s where the money is. Look at Mexican drug cartels. They’re loaded with former – and even current – Mexican military sp
ecial forces.”

  Art grinned at Pete. “But not all is lost. Even some of the bad guys turn good.”

  The corners of Pete’s mouth turned up.

  “So the country falls to hell in a handbasket.” Ed spread his hands in frustration. “What do we do about it?”

  Art raised his hand to make a point. “Well, from what I’ve read, we need to protect our people and operations and not count on government to come to our aid. We need to ensure the surrounding communities are involved. Survival will be based upon people reassuming control over their own governance.... You’ve heard it before – We The People.”

  The group nodded affirmation.

  “What’s going to happen to countries without a strong democratic tradition?” Sam asked.

  “That’s a good question. Military coups will occur in many countries, and countries may fragment. Wars over resources will erupt beyond the regional conflicts we’ve seen in the past year. Here and abroad, there will be survivors who planned ahead, and I’ll break survivors into four categories.”

  Art held up a finger. “One will be those trying to help society cope by offering solutions. I like to think we’re in that group.”

  His second finger rose. “The second group I’ll call anarchists. They’ll be self-serving and look toward self-preservation at any cost, including a loss of their own humanity – those include some survivalists, criminals, and even the very wealthy.”

  “And the next group?”

  He held up a third finger. “The dependent – those who feel helpless and beg or demand that someone take care of them. These are the same majority who put this government into power. I fear they may be the first to be victimized by government and anarchists.”

  “You said there were four.”

  He held up a fourth finger. “Some will just give up and die.”

  “Art, how many would you estimate in each group?”

  “Maybe 10 percent would be prepared and would go out of their way to help the dependent. Another 20 percent would be self-preservationists. Half may be dependents with their hands out, and the rest”—he sadly shook his head—“won’t see the point of struggling. But the percentages will change depending upon leadership.”