Solarpunk: Ecological and Fantastical Stories in a Sustainable World

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Solarpunk: Ecological and Fantastical Stories in a Sustainable World Page 7

by Fabio Fernandes


  I could only think of one proper answer to my dearest mentor:

  “You can shove Homeland, civilization and your green friends up your hemorrhoids, until they come out your mouth.”

  * * *

  The rulers of the world only see what they want to see. They create the truths that are fashionable at the moment and they believe strongly in them. They never admit making any mistakes, they don’t run away even if the storm ahead of them is a big one. They drag us to the top of a cliff and tell us to jump, happily. There’s so much stupidity, so much alienation, that nobody does just the necessary, no hesitations, no beating around the bush.

  I am going to do what I need to do.

  I’m a man. I have them in my target. I will have my vengeance.

  They killed my love. They cut her to pieces. They ate her. These fucking Kale Leaves!

  I’m sending quite a few down below to feed the soil. Me and my sniper rifle with telescopic sight. As many as I can. Men, women, children, old people, fuck them all! When the sun goes up. When they stretch themselves in the terraces.

  After that, somebody will definitely come after me.

  But they won’t catch me. I’ll run somewhere far, far away, leaving this lie behind. The only option left to a man without love is to disappear. Maybe I’ll join some clandestine group. To the guys who are for nuclear power, for instance. If we had those powerhouses, working at full capacity, the world would be very different. Maybe freaks like this Cabbageheads sect would never be created in the first place.

  * * *

  Telmo Marçal is the pseudonym of a bourgeoisly restless forty-year-old, who writes disheveled stories with detached characters condemned to try to survive in worlds as absurd as family. His first short stories appeared in 2003, thanks to the dynamics of fanzines and electronic magazines in Portugal and Brazil. His work appeared in the anthology Por Universos Nunca Dantes Navegados and his first solo book, As atribulações de Jacques Bonhomme, appeared in 2009. In 2012, he participated in Antologia de Ficção Científica Fantasporto, published in Portugal and Brazil.

  Breaking News!

  Romeu Martins

  [Anchor] It’s eight-oh-one PM. Now that the Voice of Brazil broadcast has ended, your radio network, Tribuna Central, operating in Amplitude Modulada and surfing on the Internet waves, is back to the news.

  [Jingle] Teeeeeeee-Cee, Aaaaaaaaaay-Em! The radio that listens to you.

  [Anchor] And we are again reporting directly from the interior of Paraná, where the laboratory of a company in the agricultural research sector risks being invaded at any moment now by a mob of landless rural workers. Let’s talk to reporter Helena Garcia, who has been tracking everything on the spot since early afternoon. Helena, can you hear us? What can you tell our listeners throughout Brazil? Good evening.

  [Reporter] Good evening. I hear you loud and clear, Herbert. I am here in the municipality of Telêmaco Borba, approximately 250 kilometers from the capital of Paraná, Curitiba. In front of me is the one that is considered the largest and most modern greenhouse in Latin America, used by the multinational TransCiência as a laboratory for growing genetically modified products. It is a huge dome made of a special, transparent plastic. Right now, there are approximately one hundred demonstrators of the Rural Workers Movement shouting slogans and threatening to break into the company premises. They are people of the most different origins, I see descendants of Japanese, Germans, blacks, people from all over the state. I can also see people of all ages, from gentlemen and ladies with white hair to children, most of them young people, who are the front line at the entrance of the greenhouse. We are the only press team present in this live coverage of the demonstration. We can’t get too close because this movement is very hostile to the presence of journalists, but I think you can hear them shouting on my cell phone. One moment, I’m going to adjust the TalkCel’s directional mike to try to pick up the sound… There it goes.

  [Crowd] …with the lab food! We are not guinea pigs of the multinationals! Off with the lab food! We are not guinea pigs of the multinationals! Fuck frankenfood! Fuck franken…

  [Reporter] As you can hear, there has been an atmosphere of war since dawn, when demonstrators set up camp on the ground around the greenhouse. In the middle of the afternoon, they left their improvised blue canvas tents and surrounded the lab, blocking the access of researchers and staff. Although many of the company’s resources were acquired through agreements with the Federal University of Paraná and Embrapa, the governor did not authorize the sending of Military Police troops to contain the demonstration. At this moment, only the security guards of the multinational are making a cordon to try to prevent the entrance of dozens of people, many of them armed with hoes, shovels, sickles, and machetes.

  [Anchor] Helen, did you talk to any of the leaders?

  [Reporter] No, Herbert, as I said, the Rural Workers are a very radical dissidence from the MST. Their main leader is a man from Santa Catarina who presents himself as Medina, but refuses to speak to the press… Wait a moment… Attention, studio, things are starting to get more intense here. Apparently, the demonstrators are advancing against the company’s laboratory as we speak. Yes, they have broken up the cordon and are breaking through the greenhouse doors. With blows of hoes and kicks, the crowd forced the entrance… They are in, the Rural Workers have invaded, right now, the largest experimental greenhouse in Latin America. Between screams and a lot of rushing, dozens of men, women, and even small children are destroying with sickle blows the transgenic plants of the place. Anyone who is not carrying a tool is ripping out stalks with bare hands or trampling the crops.

  [Anchor] Hello, Helena, were there any employees inside the lab?

  [Reporter] No, Herbert, the greenhouse was empty, and even the TransCiência security guards, who were trying to protect the place, remain outside. Meanwhile, more and more demonstrators enter the premises through the broken doors. It’s very hard to get closer, but the environment is very well lighted, and we can see the movement of people through the transparent walls. They are destroying not just the plants, but all the equipment inside. Computers are thrown to the floor, tables are turned. I can see that even large gallons, probably fertilizer or other chemicals, are thrown against the walls. Chaos is widespread within what is the largest transgenic research laboratory in Brazil.

  [Anchor] Helena, we were able to make contact with one of the persons responsible for the research done in this laboratory. Orson Wellmann is the CEO of the Brazilian branch of TransCiência and chief scientist of the unit being invaded right now. He’s at the company’s office in Curitiba. We will pass him on to your line, so you can interview him as you keep on reporting. Good evening, Mr. Wellmann.

  [Scientist] Good evening, journalists, good evening, listeners and Internet users in Brazil and all over the world.

  [Reporter] Mr. Wellmann, what do you have to say on the Rural Workers’s agenda?

  [Scientist] My dear Helena, I’m the one who asks: what agenda? These people aren’t interested in negotiating, they have no willingness to dialogue.

  [Reporter] But the movement claims that your company doesn’t just work with the creation of genetically altered foods. They accuse TransCiência of having links with military groups and claim that you experiment with weapons, don’t you? What can you tell us about that?

  [Scientist] These accusations, as you call them, are ridiculous. Where’s the evidence? This is nothing more than slander and speculation to harm us, since we are a global company, a conglomerate with shares traded on the main stock exchanges in the world and with the participation of many investment funds. This lab being attacked in front of you is a good example of this. Do you see the large mirrored panels above the transparent polymer forming the walls of the greenhouse?

  [Reporter] Yes, they form a kind of cover on the sides of the premises, but…

  [Scientist] We call them electrical photosynthesizers, a technology capable of employing the principles of photosynthesis of
plants for the production of electricity. These panels capture the sunlight so that the biophotovoltaic cells convert it into energy for the whole complex, making this unit totally autonomous. During the night, as now, the electricity used in lighting and to power the equipment is the same as that stored in the batteries located in the central part of the greenhouse. This technological innovation is one hundred percent sustainable and was fully developed by us. We work in many different areas in various industry sectors. However, all our research is guided by ethics and respect for the laws of each country in which we operate. It’s not different with regard to our branch in Brazil.

  [Reporter] How would you label the demonstrators’s actions, then?

  [Scientist] They use terrorist methods to hinder our work and the progress of science. Maybe your listeners have heard of neoluddites, haven’t they? Neoluddites are people who, like what happened at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution back in England in the nineteenth century feared the advance of science and technology. They are afraid—indeed they are full of spite—for all that’s new and try to prevent the march of the future. At that time, in the nineteenth century, the automatic weaving machines were their focus. Nowadays, the target of these intolerants are genetically modified organisms.

  [Reporter] So, in your opinion, the Rural Workers are a terrorist and neoluddite group?

  [Scientist] My dear Helena, I call these people Neolysenkists. I’ll explain it for you and for your qualified listeners in Brazil and every part of the world who happens to be listening to us on the internet. Trofim Lysenko was a very important man in the former Soviet Union in the mid-thirties of the last century. He was the favorite scientist of the dictator Josef Stalin. He said he did not believe in genetics as it was taught in the West, because he considered it a bourgeois science, which would not be in accordance with dialectical materialism, the ideology prevailing in the Soviet state. His influence was so huge that any reference to chromosomes was banished from the textbooks of that country, begetting an incalculable scientific and technological kickback. But it was much worse than that: Lysenko claimed that his philosophically correct genetics would ensure greater wheat production for the Russians in the winter. Do you know what really happened, my dear Helena?

  [Reporter] No, I’ve never heard of it…

  [Scientist] The crazy theses of that man caused hunger and strife to millions of people in the fields and cities of the Soviet Union. They destroyed the country’s economy and condemned many thousands of Russians to death and malnutrition. And that’s what these people, these Neolysenkists, are trying to revive now, here in Brazil, in the twenty-first century. By stopping the work of genetic scientists, they are creating difficulties for discovering new medicines, new food sources, new products that may be fundamental for the future of humankind and for the Brazilian economy. The classic example I always mention is that of a type of genetically modified strawberry. Transgenic experiments allowed the use of salmon genes, a fish capable of resisting very low temperatures, to produce fruits with the same characteristics, a big economic differential.

  [Reporter] But, if you’ll excuse me, sir …

  [Scientist] I’ve just told you, Helena, about the bio-electric technology we’ve developed to power the energy needs of our lab. Even more important than that are the improvements we have made in the plants grown there to better take advantage of their natural ability to turn sunlight into organic matter. Our country is privileged both for its natural genetic diversity and for the high rates of solar irradiance throughout the year, advantages that led TransCiência to decide on the installation of our greenhouse in Brazil. The same greenhouse that is being barbarically destroyed at this point. Another great Brazilian advantage is that we have some of the best researchers in this area of the world. Particularly among those working with plant genome sequencing, an area where national scientists are a well-recognized reference everywhere. It is one of the few cases where we remain technologically on par with any nation of the so-called developed world. We cannot lose these differentials that makes us stand out among the nations because of a radical group that insists on living in the past…

  [Reporter] Mr. Wellmann, thank you for the interview, but I must interrupt to report that something strange seems to be happening inside the invaded greenhouse. The screams and the breaking noise have subsided. I can see that the movement of the demonstrators has changed from one second to the next.

  [Anchor] Helena? Helena? This is the studio. What’s happening? What can you see?

  [Reporter] All right, Herbert. Yes, that’s right! Several of the demonstrators who until a few moments ago were running and excavating the soil stopped moving. Little by little, more and more landless people are stopping their attack on plants and equipment. They’re just standing there. It’s as if they’ve forgotten what they were doing. They seem confused. Almost every one of them at this very moment stands still, and only a few go on… What’s that? It’s not possible! Those people started to attack each other! A man has just crushed a child’s head with hoe blows… It’s horrible…

  [Anchor] Helena, I don’t understand. Are the security guards of TransCiência taking the lab, is that it? What’s going on?

  [Reporter] No, no, it’s the rural workers who are killing themselves… They all dropped the plants and started attacking each other… Oh, my God! It’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen! Men are hacking each other to bits, and also the women and children who came with them. Whoever isn’t carrying a weapon is throwing objects upon the nearest person. Or attacks with punches, kicks, and bites. Many are lying on the ground, getting up… Everyone, even small children, attacks… blood flows everywhere.

  [Anchor] But how is this even possible? Has anyone come near the greenhouse?

  [Reporter] Nobody approached the place… Sorry, Herbert, excuse me, listeners, but it’s very hard to describe what I’m seeing here. The level of violence is horrible. Even women, who are apparently the mothers of some of those children, are assaulting those by their side indiscriminately. Wait…did you get that in the studio, Herbert?

  [Anchor] Did it sound like thunder…or an explosion? Grenades? Did the police or the Army decide to take action?

  [Reporter] Hard to say, but I did see a glow and… Yes, a cloud of black smoke has begun to come out of the back of the greenhouse. I can see the flames, the place is on fire. That’s right, the fire spreads faster and faster. It hits the plants and runs across the floor, among those gallons of chemicals with its contents spread… Another explosion, this time right in the middle of the greenhouse! Several people were thrown into the air… Oh my God, they still keep attacking! No one is trying to escape through the broken doors. Those people are still killing each other… Even those with their bodies covered by fire seem more intent in injuring their colleagues than in protecting themselves! It’s not possible! An old man who had his arm ripped out and his clothes on fire came to the door, but instead of running out, he picked up a machete on the floor and returned only to attack a woman from behind… Nothing makes sense…

  [Anchor] Helena, what was that noise? What happened? Are you ok?

  [Reporter] More explosions, Herbert… The gallons of fertilizer are exploding everywhere… The black smoke is spreading, and is apparently toxic… Calm down, don’t push me! I’m working here… The security guards are leaving the place and trying to make me leave too… The lights went out, the solar-powered batteries have just exploded. You can’t see much in the glow of the fire. I can see that the ceiling is collapsing… The huge panels that collected the sunlight shattered into millions of pieces. Shards of glass fly through the skies. The metal structure supporting the ceiling and walls of the dome took a bad shaking. It just collapsed… Holy crap! The noise of the steel twisting is very loud. Tons of material crushed dozens of people. Even so, nobody tries to escape from that hell… I don’t think anyone survived… Hello, Herbert, it’s no longer possible to stay here. The security guards pushed me away from the gre
enhouse, only to see the fire, louder and louder, and a huge column of smoke that covers the moon and the stars…

  [Anchor] Hello, Helena? Hello? They must have taken our reporter out of the place. We will try to resume the live link with our report. You from all over Brazil heard, here in Tribuna Central AM, the report of an invasion that ended in tragedy, in the interior of Paraná. Approximately one hundred demonstrators from the Rural Workers’ movement may have died in an attempt to break into the laboratories of the agribusiness giant, TransCiência. More details after the commercial break, when we will continue with our exclusive, live coverage at the place where the news happens. With the support of TalkCel, the only cellular operator present in one hundred percent of the national territory, we are the station that listens to you.

  [Jingle] Teeeeeeee-Cee, Aaaaaaaaaay-Em! The radio that listens to you.

  * * *

  “Only garbage now. We can turn it off and celebrate.”

  The speaker is a man dressed entirely in white, with hair as light in color as the social clothes he wears. He activates the remote control, muting the sound from the landscape in front of him, in a clearing 250 kilometers from where those events were being narrated.

  On the other side of the huge room, still with the cellphone with which he gave the interview, the second occupant of the apartment gets up from the sofa with an enthusiastic expression on his face. Although he has darker hair, it is also much more scarce than his guest’s, and his clothes less formal.

  “Change the station, put some music on while I get the wine. We have a lot to celebrate; everything happened exactly as planned, or even better.”

  He heads for a side door while his guest looks over the musical selection available on the sound equipment display. The arrows on the small black monolith show the names of the artists, albums, and musicians on the screen that previously showed the Tribuna Central radio station’s dial number.

 

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