Calamity

by Gail McCormick

  “Well don’t spread that around. By the way, I really like your mother. Don’t know if she told you that we got together again. That’s when we came up with the foundation idea. She threw in a good amount of money too. I’d guessed your family was well-heeled, just had no idea how well heeled. It was brave of you to take a Southern cracker to meet her.”

  “I knew she’d like you too, and of course she does. We’re all on the same page, you know.”

  “How so? You’re a climate scientist. I’m an anchor with a station that has no use for your kind.”

  “But we have the same goals. Think about it. What are you trying to achieve?”

  Her response was immediate. “To bring reason and truth to people sorely in need of it.”

  “Same here, just more focused on a particular subject. The climate crisis obviously.”

  She tilted her head and considered. “I guess you have a point. And speaking of money, I got a call from the FBI. They managed to find $25 million buried in an offshore account in Trotford’s name and traced it to some recently formed Russian gas and oil company. The assassin is trying to get a reduced sentence by sharing all he knows. He admitted breaking into the NIP office and ransacking my desk to find the phone I had just put in my bag. And of course he broke into my condo and attempted to kill me several times. I didn’t realize it, but Trotford overheard me telling Owen on the plane back from Moscow that I wanted to look into the story Anatoly told us about the new Russian company. That was when he hired the guy. The first attack was only to scare me, but when it didn’t work, he escalated. He swears Trotford was paid by them to keep trying to convince the Senate that climate change is no problem and to get it to promote drilling for oil and gas anywhere in the Arctic. They knew that if Americans decided to rejoin the rest of the world in trying to reduce fossil fuel emissions, there might be new international agreements restricting development in the Arctic Ocean which is where the company plans to drill.”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised to hear that,” Kyle agreed. He’s been so adamant with his denials about climate change. And Trotford must have realized that if his collusion with the Russians got out there was no chance he’d be re-elected.”

  “He also says the Russians were going to give Trotford an interest in the company they were forming for the new drilling and that the Senator promised him a cut for killing me. Claims the Senator was afraid I’d spill the beans having seen what was on his phone. Fortunately, the FBI has managed to get a lot of information from it.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  She finished the tea. “And here’s something else you’ll be happy to hear. The police have the guy who’s been badgering me in custody. They caught him this evening.” She wasn’t about to explain how or why. “He had another of the usual notes that he obviously planned to leave with my body after he killed me.” The shock of what had happened struck her again, and she shuddered but quickly pulled herself together. “He’s in jail now and along with the fact that they found my phone number on a cell he hadn’t disposed of they’ll undoubtedly keep him there. They expect to find more incriminating evidence when they search his apartment. So, it winds up that there were two different kinds of SUV attacks, the ones on me and the one on Dan Lowell. It was just a fluke that Dan was struck the same day Trotford’s guy tried to hit me near the subway and then next to my house.”

  “It’s certainly a huge relief that you won’t be facing this again! Oh, and I have some good news too. It looks like Conor is going to make it. His wife and daughter have flown to Paris. They’re afraid his skin may be permanently scarred from the rash, but that’s nothing compared with losing his life.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Camellia said. “What do you think the chances are that the Save The Arctic Act will pass?”

  I wouldn’t have thought it likely a few weeks ago, but now with what we brought back from Siberia and Trotford presumably disgraced at the very least, who knows? There might be a chance.”

  “I sure hope so. It seems the FBI has a few more loose ends to tie up before they arrest Trotford. Then you won’t have to sleep on my couch.”

  “I can think of a better place to sleep,” he said.

  “Whoa. Get a grip. We’re not there yet.”

  “But getting there. Count on it.”

  “Hey, them’s my words.”

  She stood up and shook her head. He got up, went over to her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her with even more fervor than the last time. There was fractional resistance on her part, but that changed quickly. When he released her, he stepped back and said, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “Well, I did need to catch my breath, same as before,” she said as she got herself back in hand. Then she leaned in, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back until they were both decidedly unnerved.

  “And?” he asked.

  She tilted her head to one side again, and thought about it. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair. “I have to admit, this mop of yours appealed to me from the start, not to mention your passion about your work. And I guess Owen got it right. Chemistry. I just couldn’t deal with it then.” She went over to the couch and picked up his duffle bag. “Maybe there’s room in my bed for two after all.” She took his hand and they headed for her bedroom.

  “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about not having space to roll around,” he said. “You’ll be otherwise occupied. But we might want to turn up the a/c.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  NEXT DAY

  763 UNITED NATIONS PLAZA

  OUTSIDE

  MANHATTAN

  IT WAS A WONDERFUL DAY FOR A CELEBRATION, bright and sunny with the temperature reduced to 81 degrees. As people noticed that the media had arrived, a small crowd gathered. When United Nations employees and visitors emerged from the building, they stopped to watch.

  Owen and Camellia stood next to the hedges that ran along the sidewalk in front of the 193 international flags attached to tall poles. They waved in the light breeze. He was setting up his camera. “You’re looking chipper today,” he observed. “And I see you’re wearing what must be one of Kyle’s t-shirts.”

  She was dressed in the new shirt, slim green pants and sandals only two and a half inches high.

  “We have some great news to report,” she said.

  “I know, but it’s more than that. I’ve never seen you with such a glow. Hardin, right?”

  She laughed. “You know me too well.”

  “Okay, here we go. You’re on.”

  Camellia was exuberant as she said, “The Senate Save The Arctic Act has passed, and it’s expected the House will follow suit with its own version! All the Democrats and many Republicans voted for it. And they plan for the United States to rejoin the Paris Accord.”

  The group from the U.N. cheered.

  “And here’s more truly stunning breaking news. We’ve just learned that Senator Trotford has been arrested and charged with hiring Barbara Logan’s killer. He’s said to be in for serious jail time, quite possibly a life sentence if he’s convicted which seems likely given all the evidence they now have. We also have an update on the disease that struck President Dickerson and others. Here’s Chakir from Ireland. He’s coming to you via our New York studio.”

  For those watching on TV, the screen switched to Chakir who stood in front of a pub, mike in one hand a pint of beer in the other. “People here are celebrating,” he reported. “It’s true that Ireland lost 997 citizens, but there haven’t been any more cases in the past week. So, here’s to the doctors who came up with the vaccine. Hopefully they won’t be dealing with anything like this disease ever again.” He raised his mug and the scene returned to Camellia in New York.

  “Thanks again, Chakir,” she said. “That’s great news. With any luck this will be our last report about the Mystery Fever. The latest count is an estimated death toll of roughly 11,200 people worldwide. Thankfully
it does seem that the disease has been stopped in its tracks, thanks to the vaccine. What an absolutely enormous relief!”

  There were more cheers from the growing crowd.

  “It doesn’t help the people we lost or their loved ones, and it didn’t leave even billionaires or politicians any safer than ordinary people. We definitely dodged a bullet this time. Whether or not we will continue to be so lucky remains to be seen. Hopefully the new action planned by the Government to address climate change will mean less release of methane and carbon dioxide, less permafrost thawing and fewer new diseases derived from it. Rejoining the Paris Accord should be helpful.”

  There were louder cheers from the crowd along with clapping, especially from the U.N. contingent.

  “The heat wave has let up a little too, so with any luck we’ll have at least a slight break, and no one else will die of heat stroke,” Camellia continued. “There were indications that this would become a truly major problem, but none of the media really covered it well enough. I have to apologize about that on my part. However, the loss of our President and other important politicians was the most critical problem for our nation, and we did have to put that first. It’s pretty clear heat will be our next major story.” She smiled at Kyle who was standing off to her side. “Well friends, I would say back tomorrow, but I might just take a slight break.” She reached out to take Kyle’s hand.

  With that Owen put his camera down, put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. The crowd started to disperse.

  Kyle picked her up and spun her around and around gleefully until they nearly collapsed laughing.

  “And you might lose your job for some of those comments and the t-shirt, but we just won a big one!” he said.

  “Hurray and hallelujah! And NIP be damned,” Camellia agreed, choking off laughter. “I’ve already started getting flak for the minimal changes I’ve made to my appearance. The t-shirt today could be the last straw for them. And guess what, looks like public television might be interested. Their anchor desk isn’t anywhere near as fancy as NIP’s, but that would go well with my new saner outfits.” She looked down at her t-shirt. “Or maybe crazier outfits. If that doesn’t work out, we could start an organic toothpaste company just to flaunt it at Trotford. Though a t-shirt company would be more fun. I can see the first one, WE MUST FIGHT THE CLIMATE CRISIS. Lord knows we have a daunting challenge ahead if we’re to prevent a worldwide disaster.”

  Kyle continued to hold her. “Our wounded pets are definitely going to get along together. I know they’re going to be compatible too.”

  Camellia pulled away. “It might work but there could be a slight glitch.”

  Kyle frowned. “What?”

  “I’m adopting Braver. I forgot to tell you that Trotford picked him up after he got out of the hospital. He begged us to take care of the dog again when they arrested him. Owen can’t continue to keep him. He’s bringing him over tonight. Nobody else wants him, and that’s just plain wrong. He saved plenty of our guys in Iraq. Owen has gotten him to chew on a steak bone, so that’s a start. I’ll work on tossing a ball next. I don’t think Perky will have a problem with him. But I’m a bit worried about Fuzzball.”

  “Fuzzball?”

  “He’s a longhaired alley cat that lives under my front steps.”

  “And you feed him.”

  “I’m afraid I do. But it’s tuna that doesn’t have much mercury in it.”

  He laughed and pulled her close again. “That’s what I love about you. Under that tough exterior there’s a bleeding heart. We’ll just have to tame the cat and mix him in with the rest of the oddballs.”

  Camellia smiled. “Our goofy menagerie could wind up a calamity of a different sort.”

  EPILOGUE

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  WEST SIDE OF MANHATTAN

  The striking new building fronted the Hudson River in midtown Manhattan. It was ten stories high with a gray green stone exterior. Balconies ran the length of the side facing the water. A garden area filled the space behind the building. It included benches and a large fountain. Garbage cans, recycle bins and well-sealed compost containers were hidden under enclosures.

  Kyle and Camellia occupied a three-bedroom penthouse condo facing west and affording a view of dazzling sunsets. Furniture from Camellia’s old condo had been combined with most of what Kyle owned including a huge standing globe, a framed 19th century map of the world and a lamp made of a cut-down table leg. His Romare Bearden lithograph hung next to Camellia’s Jacob Lawrence painting showing African American women ironing clothes. He had placed his favorite wing chair and footstool between the lime green chairs. The floor to ceiling bookcase was more massive than the one in Camellia’s old condo. Kyle’s books were crowded in beside hers. A side table held such an enormous stack of books and reports that they threatened to fall off the edge. There was a large paper airplane balanced precariously on top.

  Camellia sat on the couch with Perky settled on her shoulder. Karen, Sujin and Dorothy were seated across from her with Kyle’s mother occupying his wing chair. Fuzzball had settled on Dorothy’s lap, and she was petting him. Frank’s parents were seated near Kyle and Owen who were kneeling next to Bobby on one of Kyle’s antique Persian carpets. They were helping him build a Lego blocks fire house. A small firefighter’s hat was placed next to his teddy bear. Braver lay on the floor beside them, chewing on a steak bone. Dong Woo was snuggled up against the dog, taking a nap. Kyle held Survivor under one arm while he handed blocks to Bobby. Owen helped him fit them together. He turned to Kyle and said, “It’s amazing that you two put this place together so fast. I mean, how long have you been here? Certainly not more than a couple of months.”

  Kyle’s response came quickly. “Three months, seven days and,” he paused to check his watch. “four hours.” Camellia heard what he said, shook her head, and smiled.

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  SIBERIA

  A REMOTE LOCATION

  A five-year old boy and his father came upon a newly exposed carcass in a section of thawed permafrost and stood looking down at it. They wore handmade light-weight jackets and hats. The boy’s cap had braided green and white trim. The herder’s skin was dark and coarsened. His son’s skin was still unlined.

  It was a crystal clear, sunny day. There were deep pockets of water in huge holes in the ground as far as the eye could see. Some were big enough to be considered good sized lakes. Scarcely any snow remained, and what there was consisted of trivial melting patches. Glaciers forming thin ribbons streaked the distant mountain tops. Sodden ground had taken over the landscape. The temperature had reached an all-time high of 97 degrees Fahrenheit.

  “What is it?” the boy asked in Russian as he stared at the carcass.

  “I don’t know his father answered. I haven’t ever seen anything like it. Very strange.”

  THE END

  Jim Hansen

  Adjunct professor

  Directing the Program on Climate Science,

  Awareness and Solutions

  Earth Institute, Columbia University

  November 2017 and June 2018

  “We are entering a period of consequences and are in danger of being too late. I have come to note that greenhouse gas climate forcings are accelerating, not decelerating. We confront a mortal threat. The present generation has a responsibility to future generations. It is time to stop waffling so much and say that the evidence is pretty strong that the greenhouse effect is here. It’s not too late.”

  Author’s note:

  NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) reports that the Arctic is warming at a rate of temperature change that hasn’t been observed in at least the past 2000 years. With every one degree Celsius (1.8 degrees Fahrenheit) increase in temperature, one and a half million square miles could thaw.

  Scientists estimate the permafrost holds 1,500 billion tons of carbon, almost double the amount currently in the atmosphere. And there may be
hundreds of millions of tons of methane gas beneath the permafrost. How much methane is likely to be released is debated.

  The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s projections don’t account for these emissions. Scientists can’t predict from what’s already known because we’ve never had permafrost thawing to this extent. But the IPCC did estimate that between 30 and 99% of near-surface permafrost could disappear by 2100.

  Nitrous oxide emissions from thawing Alaskan permafrost are about are about twelve times higher than previously assumed. Since nitrous oxide is around 300 times more potent than carbon dioxide, this revelation could mean that we’re in more trouble than we realize.

  Over 7000 burial grounds are scattered across northern Russia containing reindeer carcasses infected with anthrax. There are tens of thousands of human bodies preserved in the permafrost, some 1918 flu victims, some from a major smallpox epidemic in the 1890s, others afflicted with diseases yet to be determined, but no doubt including bubonic plague. Various bacteria able to form spores, and so could survive in permafrost, include tetanus and the pathogen responsible for botulism. Some fungi can also survive in permafrost. We could even see viruses from Neanderthals and Denisovans, that settled in Siberia and were riddled with diseases.

  And are there other places like Camp Century, an abandoned military base, its remains buried in Greenland’s Ice Sheet? It was a U.S. Army top secret mission to install ballistic missiles near Russia. Hazardous wastes left behind include sewage, radioactive coolant, carcinogenic industrial chemicals, and diesel fuel. Engineers assumed they would be preserved indefinitely but with permafrost thawing, we could be in for a nasty surprise.