Tobias Buckell - Arctic Rising

Anika was getting a bad feeling.

“Ivan, what do you mean by that?” Paige asked slowly and calmly, as if he were a child.

He waved at all the board members. “They all finally grew a pair—collectively, that is. They came down here to demand you and I step down as CEOs so they could negotiate a surrender with the blockade. They’re worried about the impending invasion. Can you believe that? Step down. Now? Here we are, on the brink of quite literally saving the world, and they’re going to try and pull some bullshit procedure and give up.”

“They’re scared,” Paige said. “It’s understandable. We didn’t think there would be such a strong military reaction. Or nukes. Or any of this. Look, if anyone here wants to leave, they should get out now. It hasn’t been the first time I’ve encouraged you.”

One of the suits next to her fumbled with his hands. “We can’t leave now. Ivan gave an ultimatum.”

Paige looked confused. “A what?”

Roo glanced over at Anika and pointed at the door. Get out, he mouthed. But as they turned to leave Gaia Security stepped forward blocked the door.

Vy grabbed her arm. “I don’t like this.”

Ivan raised his hands and pressed a button on a small controller in his hands. The windows looking out under the polar waters darkened to be replaced by screens showing virtual clocks.

“All of the Earth’s systems have checks and balances in them against damage. But for hundreds of years we’ve shit out pollutants and dumped carbon into the air. Even today archeologists are finding that, as far back as history goes, we have scarred the land that gave us life. We’re a cancer. A virus. A problem. Paige says, give us properly balanced markets, and we can be good. But that’s not true. The world’s religions know it. Man is sinful, dark. We are capable of great evils. Just ask the fucking whales. The Earth needs a protector, not more arguing, not more markets, not more products. It needs a solution. It needs Gaia.”

“Ivan, we talked about this. We’re playing in the realm of nation states now—not just trying to influence policy, but actively challenging them,” Paige said.

“Nation states have done a shitty job as stewards of our world, Paige. Eventually, someone had to challenge them. I know it will be dangerous, but we’ve been simulating a showdown like this for two years. We’ve used our most powerful resources to crowd-source possible scenarios, used multiplayer online games to test responses. We know it’s ninety percent likely that we’ll win here. We can’t wait any longer, and it’s too late to back down now. We’re playing our cards.”

“Jesus, we’ve got to get out,” Vy whispered. They edged closer to the door and the grim men with submachine guns.

Paige had been stepping closer and closer to Ivan as he spoke. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Ivan. You really did it? The ultimatum? We didn’t agree together…”

He grabbed her hand and held it. “The blockade has ten minutes left to turn around. It is within Thule national waters, and has crossed sovereign borders. If it doesn’t leave, Thule will be forced to protect itself. After that, we get on with the business of saving the world. Paige, I’ve waited all my life for this, I’ve seen too many attempts to do things thwarted. There’ve been billions of dollars spent convincing everyone the Pole wasn’t melting, that doing anything meant it would cost people money, so that oil companies could keep doing what they were doing. It is time for action, now. Our time is finally here. The planet’s time. We can defend it now. The moment they said you had the nuke, I’ve been waiting for that moment my entire life.”

Ivan breathed heavily, sweat beading his forehead. He was nervous, and shaking. Paige grabbed his other shoulder and looked him right in the eyes.

“Ivan, what happens when that ten minutes finishes up? Our simulations said there was a chance they would decide to escalate instead of negotiate.”

“You know the scenarios,” he said, turning for the table.

Paige pulled him back. “ Ivan , it’s one thing to run simulations. It’s another to actually do these things. We can’t. It’s not you.”

“Oh, but this is me,” Ivan said. “I’m scared. I’m angry. But more than that, I’m tired of the long fight. I want to see something get done. And quickly.”

Roo had moved through the milling crowd to stand on the other side of the open door from Anika and Vy. He clearly intended to get out past the two men blocking it from the outside, but he was waiting.

What are we waiting for? Anika mouthed.

He shrugged and held up a finger. Just wait.

Ivan shoved Paige back. People gasped. “Don’t try to stop me, Paige. Not after all we’ve done together.” He was trembling.

She recovered her balance and strode forward. “You’re letting them get to you, Ivan … you and me, we don’t split apart. Not after all we’ve built together.”

“You let them get to you,” Ivan said sadly. “You’re the one taking your eyes off the bigger picture. I’m so sorry.” He sat down in front of one of the screens that, just hours before, Anika had been using to scan for leads on the missile.

Roo held up his hand. He wanted to see what was going to happen next. Up on the glass the countdown faded away, replaced by video of the recognizably flat-topped shape of an aircraft carrier.

It was flanked by two destroyers.

The countdown hit all zeros and flashed, and Ivan tapped a virtual keyboard on the table. “The sun is the most powerful source of energy in the world,” Ivan said. “We hardly use it as a tool. It’s a shame that I have to harness it like this, but maybe after this demonstration they will understand. Those hundreds of millions of floating spheres can reflect the energy of it back out into space, cooling the planet and stopping the warming trend.

“They can also refocus the reflected light anywhere I want.”

A pure line of light stabbed out of the sky. As it touched the ocean’s surface, water boiled and flash-vaporized into steam that hung in the air.

The beam of light continued to move across the water, and Anika could see the carrier begin to tilt, turning as it tried to get out of the way. Spray from the backs of the destroyers kicked up as turbojets engaged and shoved the boats up onto their hydroplanes as they tried to scatter.

Moving implacably on, the beam of light, so bright it almost washed out the video feed, struck the carrier amidships. It slowly sliced through the upper decks, boiling metal splashing and pooling. Secondary explosions ripped through the carrier as the light struck something deep inside.

Like a welding torch wielded by a god, it continued to burn the carrier’s structure, ripping deeper and deeper, until the telltale steam blew up out of the horrible crack in the ship’s center.

The focused beam of light snapped off as Ivan tapped at the computer.

For a moment, Anika thought that the carrier might be okay. It was still moving forward, after all, pulling itself out of the massive cloud of steam created by the mirror’s attack. Smoke still poured out of the crack, and she thought she could see movement. People running to put out the fires? She hoped so.

Then the crack widened. And kept widening.

The two parts of the carrier began to slowly, torturously, split apart. The further it ripped, the more of the massive ship’s insides became visible. The edges of the inside decks glowed cherry hot. More smoke gushed out. Debris tumbled into the still-boiling water in between the two halves.

Water kept flooding into the cracked-open parts, and pieces of the carrier started settling into the ocean while vomiting smoke into the air.