Claus tried to regain his breath, but all he managed to utter was, “The bolt let go.”
“How could the bolt simply pull out of the rock?”
“I don’t know!”
“It was fine on the way up. We both clipped on to it!”
“Let’s just get off this mountain.” Claus was clearly ill at ease.
Given the circumstance, Ernst took charge. “Take a deep breath; we’ve got only about thirty feet more to go.”
Back on solid ground, Ernst inspected Claus’ head. Fortunately, he had only a few superficial scrapes on his forehead, not worth a bandage. Then, after a bit of haggling, Claus insisted he was perfectly capable of driving Ernst back to his hotel. They wasted no time in gathering their gear and headed for the car. Once underway, Claus gradually returned to his former self, and their conversation took on a lighter tone. They chatted about their good fortune until Ernst proceeded to recount horror stories from his earlier climbs.
All Claus heard was his grandfather’s voice echoing in his ear. “You’ll never be able to read the mind of Mother Nature, so you’d better be able to read the minds of those helping you to challenge her.” They were words he did not heed on that day. Claus was rarely rattled, but he had never climbed with a stranger before, only with close friends. But he had to admit that it was Ernst’s quick action that saved them both.
Ernst was still rattling on about a fall he took until Claus interrupted. “I’d prefer you to keep those stories to yourself, at least until after our climb tomorrow.”
“Point taken. So we’re still on?”
Claus nodded but continued to keep his eyes on the road. The rest of the drive was relatively silent as they sped along the winding alpine highway. Finally, Claus spotted a neon sign on top of a building that flashed the name “Novotel,” and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Antoinette checked her watch and then checked the wall clock; they both read 9:38 p.m. “Il a promis.” She soon decided moaning was useless and thought the Beaujolais wine might produce a better effect. After pouring herself a glass, she sauntered into the living room and waited for her husband. Unfortunately, her favorite Gamay grape from Burgundy was not doing its magic. She prayed that her worrying would prove unnecessary.
Antoinette recognized that Claus was an excellent climber. He had tackled the Matterhorn frequently with his hiking buddies. But the day hikes by himself or with only one other person concerned her, especially if she was not acquainted with that person. All she knew was that Claus had befriended another attendee during a weeklong conference. His name was Ernst from Lucerne, also an avid climber. They had made plans to climb Saint Léger on Saturday. She had approved on one condition — They would be off the mountain by sunset. That was two hours ago. Once again she checked her watch with growing concern. The time was 10:15. Suddenly, she heard a car pull into the driveway and she let out a huge sigh of relief.
“Je sais que je suis en retard!” Claus called out from the kitchen, apologizing for being late. When he walked into the living room, he found his wife standing in the center of the room with her arms folded across her chest. Not a good sign, he thought, and he moved in to embrace her with a hug, whispering “Je t’aime” in an effort to stifle any anger.
Antoinette surrendered to his ploy, but when she pulled away, she saw the bruise on his forehead.
Claus assured his lovely wife that it was nothing and then rotated his cupped hand as though he were holding an empty wine glass.
“Tu veux un verre de vin?” she asked without a trace of anger, thankful that he had arrived home safely.
“Absolument!” he replied, amazed by her easy acquiescence and more than ready for the glass of wine she was in the midst of pouring. Then, he prepared for the inevitable question.
As expected, the moment they sat down next to each other on the sofa, Antoinette asked, “So how was the climb?”
Claus filled her in on the day’s events, careful to leave out a few details. It all ended well; what’s the point? he mused. Then, switching the topic slightly, he began to wax on about how Ernst was such a great climber, hoping to butter her up for his next request. “Ernst leaves on Monday and asked if I’d climb the Lou Passo with him tomorrow. I agreed.”
Antoinette knew that Lou Passo was located in the same region they had just climbed, but it was a rarely visited crag and considerably easier than Saint Léger. “Clau—”
“Arrêtez,” he said as he held up his hand, stopping her response. “Je l’ai déjà dit oui.”
“So, you’ve already said yes. Then what’s left for me to say?” she asked with mild annoyance, annoyance that was rooted in her doubts about Ernst. He was not one of Claus’ close friends.
Chapter 2
SPARKS FLYING
In 2017, at the behest of the Republican senators, a bipartisan committee to study climate-change initiative bills was established to monitor appropriation recommendations to the House. Prior to the formation of the committee, bills addressing climate change were scattered among various subcommittees established under the House Committee on Appropriations. It became extremely difficult to identify the overlapping appropriations and to determine the total dollar amounts allocated in the name of climate change. At first, the Republicans received a lot of pushback, but finally the Democratic senate base acquiesced, clearly a concession. The Democrats still needed the support of the Republicans to assign hordes of unallocated stimulus money they sought. It was also agreed that the committee would be co-chaired by a representative from each party.
Senator Winston Erog, a controversial Democrat from California, was appointed as one of the committee co-chairs. It was no secret that he was a staunch environmentalist. But he played the role of a fair debater and worked tirelessly to push legislation through for his constituents. He appeared to have won the respect of both parties. But his strongest asset was his deceptive physical appearance. His obviously corpulent body and his disproportionately small mouth, amazingly commanded attention when he spoke. Still, there were those who distrusted him.
The other co-chair was Senator Sherman Spark, a Republican from the state of Florida. But it was Erog’s turn to call the committee to order.
As Erog watched the shuffling of chairs, he waited a while longer for the members to settle down. Then, at ten past one, he raised his gavel. “I call this session to order. Secretary Collins, please read the first item on the docket.”
“Chairman Erog, Senator Richly from California will introduce H.R. 20500 for consideration.”
“Senator Richly, you have the floor.”
“Chairman Erog and respected Senators, I’d like to introduce the following bill, H.R. 20500, which was submitted by the Committee on Education and the Workforce. This act is cited as the ‘Climate Education Act.’ They are requesting ten million dollars for each of the fiscal years 2018 through 2022. The primary purpose of the bill is to support programs for teacher training in K through 12 and to develop models for climate-change curricula for both primary and secondary educational institutions.”
Spark turned and eyed Erog. “Chairman, I respectfully remind this committee that this bill was already addressed in the last Congress. And now, as it did then, it smacks of brainwashing.”
Erog lowered his gavel. “Senator Spark! Senator Richly has the floor.”
Richly smiled. He had tangled with Spark in the past and enjoyed the challenge. Without hesitation, he addressed him directly. “Climate change is undeniable and there is overwhelming science that proves global warming is human-induced. However, a recent survey of elementary and high-school teachers, conducted by Professor Plutzer, the academic director of Pennsylvania State’s Survey Research Center, showed that thirty percent of teachers polled emphasized in their teachings that global warming was most likely due to natural causes. Clearly, it flies in the face of the fact that ninety-seven percent of climate scientists agree that global warming is caused by human activity.”
“Senator, you know
that claim is poppycock.”
Erog winced. “Out of order, Senator Spark. Senator Richly, please continue.”
“Chairman Erog, I’d be interested in hearing what the Senator has to say.”
“Senator Spark, please make your point—and quickly.” Erog was clearly exasperated.
“This claim of ninety-seven percent is a deliberate attempt to coerce public opinion. The number sprouted out of a paper published by John Cook, a global-warming alarmist and founder of a blog site misleadingly named Skeptical Science. Cook, along with his cohorts, reviewed exactly eleven-thousand-nine-hundred-and-forty-four studies published in peer-reviewed climate literature. They found that roughly thirty-four percent endorsed the concept that man-made carbon dioxide is being emitted into the atmosphere. Out of that number came the infamous ninety-seven percent of those who emphatically endorse the position that humans are causing global warming. In fact, numerous scientists whose papers were cited by Cook took exception to his unsupported conclusion. This research is anything but scientific and does not represent the scientific community as a whole. However, careful evaluation of various surveys has taken place and support the idea that the number of qualified scientists believing global warming is primarily man-made is less than three percent—rather than ninety-seven percent.”
“Interesting, Senator Spark,” Erog droned, “but I fail to see any connection to the introduction of Bill H.R. 20500.”
“With all due respect, the bill presents only one side of the debate, one that is still questionable. It’s too murky for the taxpayers to support. And I don’t think you’ll get an executive order this time around,” Spark argued.
“Senator Richly.”
“Chairman, to the Senator’s original point, he’s accurate. The bill was presented in the last Congress, but in light of the Paris Agreement I ask this committee to review it once again. It’s no secret that the UN Climate Change Conference held in Paris in 2015 was a valiant effort to obtain agreement to reduce carbon-dioxide emissions and adopt green energy as a renewable energy source, as evidenced by the attendance of one hundred and ninety-seven countries’ diplomats. The goal, of course, is to reduce the global average temperature by three-point-six degrees Fahrenheit, with an ideal target of two-point-seven degrees, which is quite achievable.”
Spark could not hold back. He loved to spar as much as Richly. “And to accomplish such a feat would require one-hundred-billion dollars a year over the next five years, with the financing coming primarily from developed countries to help the less developed countries. The mere fact that our former president, along with the leaders from Canada and Mexico, had to forge a North-America-wide climate partnership shortly after the Paris Agreement was a clear indication that it was dead in its tracks.”
Erog glared in Spark’s direction.
“Chairman Erog, I’d be happy to yield my remaining time to the Senator. Although we are very familiar with his feelings on the subject.” Senator Richly purposely cited the Paris Agreement to further bait Spark. It worked. “I thank the committee for your time.” He took his seat.
Spark ignored Richly’s jab and kept his anger in check. He was next on the docket and wanted the committee’s full attention, but he felt that the point bore repeating. “May I remind the committee that the Paris Agreement is a non-binding commitment and provides limited impact for the money spent? It’s another blatant attempt to erode the United States’ sovereignty.”
Erog cut off the sparring. He was eager to move forward. “Secretary Collins, please read the next item for discussion.”
“Senator Spark has requested that the chamber hear the testimony of Mr. Claus Veunet from the Climate Research Unit at the University of East Anglia.”
“We always welcome scientists from the CRU. They’ve been an invaluable resource for the IPCC, the esteemed United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change,” Erog remarked, reverting to a pleasant manner. “But how is his testimony relevant to this committee, Senator Spark?”
“Chairman Erog, forgive me but you are aware that Mr. Veunet will not be speaking directly to any one initiative, but to the initiatives as a whole. This has been on the docket for months.” Damn him, he’s trying to renege on his promise.
“Okay, Senator Spark, Mr. Veunet has the floor.”
Spark glanced toward the row of chairs in the back of the room. When he went to motion Veunet to take a seat at the table—he wasn’t there. Agitated, he checked his watch; it was 1:45. He’s supposed to be here at one o’clock.
“The committee is waiting, Senator,” Erog urged. This time with impatience.
“Excuse me, Mr. Chairman, but evidently Mr. Veunet has been delayed.” Awkwardly, Spark said, “With your permission, I will excuse myself from these proceedings and turn my chair over to Senator Ryan. It’s imperative I locate Mr. Veunet.”
Erog raised the gavel but without setting it down, he said, “Granted! Secretary Collins, please read the next item on the docket.” His tone was boorish, but it was clear from the expression on his face that he was pleased to move on.
Spark left the committee room.
Out in the hallway, Spark frantically called the hotel only to discover that Claus Veunet had never checked in. Then he called Claus’ home in France and spoke with his wife. Minutes later he hung up the phone. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered as he rushed back to his office, foregoing any further committee business for the day.
“Hold all my calls,” he barked to his secretary.
Secure in his office with the door closed and no chance of being interrupted, he placed a call to Switzerland.
“Luca, I need you in Washington.”
“No, Sherman. We agreed that only Claus would go public and testify. The rest of us were not to be involved.”
“Claus is dead!”
“Oh mein Gott! What happened?”
“It was a stupid climbing accident. I knew about his obsession and warned him that his testimony was of grave importance. I told him explicitly to lay off his daredevil antics.”
“Sherman, please! He was a dear friend.”
“No time for mourning. I need you in Washington.” It took Spark twenty minutes more to lay out a viable argument as to why Luca needed to testify in Claus’ absence.
Finally, Luca agreed.
“I’ll get back to you when I reschedule the date.” Spark ended the call abruptly.
Still distressed at the death of Claus, Spark sat back and recalled all the months that had gone into the planning for that testimony. A testimony that would rattle the world, a testimony with trillions of dollars at stake. He hated the cloak-and-dagger game, working behind the scene, carrying secrets he could not share even with his wife. Thank God Luca is willing to step up to the plate. He let out a deep breath. Then, he remembered that there was one more obstacle—Erog. He glanced at the wall clock and presumed the committee had adjourned for the day and Erog had most likely returned to his office. But before he fought that battle, Spark had to make one more phone call. He had to convince one other scientist to prepare to testify as well.
“Senator Spark, he’s not available,” the secretary said, as he rushed past her desk.
“What the hell was that all about?” Spark blurted as he barged into Erog’s office.
“It’s good to see you too, Sherman.”
Senator Sherman Spark was a tall, slender man with salt-and-pepper hair, along with other classic statesman-like qualities. And when the two senators were in proximity, it accentuated Erog’s grotesque features. But Erog was no less dangerous and Spark thought he was up to his neck in trumpery.
“You tried to weasel out of your promise to allow Claus Veunet to testify!”
“How can you say that? The entire committee sat back, waiting for him to speak.”
“Well, he won’t be arriving anytime soon. He’s dead!”
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that. Seriously, Sherman. I know this meant a great deal to you.”
“
You don’t seem sorry. And If I didn’t know better, I’d think you pushed him off some goddamn mountain in France.”
“I’ll forget you said that. But now it’s over. It’s time to move on. We have business to conduct for our constituents.”
“His testimony was vital, you son of a bitch!” Spark yelled and then reeled in his ire. “I worked hard to get him on today’s docket. But it’s not over. I want to reschedule the testimony.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have another scientist who can impart the same information.”
“Sherman, let me be frank. While you’ve been willing to give me only a general idea as to the testimony, which I suspect has nothing to do with appropriations, I’ve agreed to this arrangement out of my respect for you. But I hope for your own sake you’re not using these scientific minds—and this committee—to make a grandiose statement for your own personal agenda.”
“Damn you! I’m trying to save this country from falling into a trap. Using this committee is the best way to get the truth out to the public. Be careful, Erog; people might start to question the appropriations you’ve pushed through bypassing the committee. I want a new date!” Spark demanded, slamming his fist on Erog’s desk.
Erog knew Spark would hold true on his threat. His reputation for being a judicial-watch bloodhound, with a bark that included a bite, was not to be ignored. Spark, on the other hand, did not divulge on all he knew, holding some leverage in abeyance.
“You’ll get your date.” Erog’s lips curled down into his customary smirk, making his mouth seem even smaller.
Spark stormed out of Erog’s office, leaving the door open behind him.
Chapter 3
OPEN FOR BUSINESS
It was a brutal weekend in Washington, DC, but not because of politics as usual. It was the massive Indian-summer heat wave, with its record-high temperatures, that caused the discomfort. The weather became the hot topic of discussion. It dominated the pub scene with the happy-hour crowd heatedly debating whether it was caused by greenhouse gases or a very strong El Niño stirring up the air and ocean currents. Either way, Max just wanted some relief.
Climatized Page 2
