Michael Crichton - State Of Fear

By now the kids were fidgeting, and Bradley turned squarely to the cameras. He spoke with the easy authority he had mastered while playing the president for so many years on television. "The threat of abrupt climate change," he said, "is so devastating for mankind, and for all life on this planet, that conferences are being convened all around the world to deal with it. There is a conference in Los Angeles starting tomorrow, where scientists will discuss what we can do to mitigate this terrible threat. But if we do nothing, catastrophe looms. And these mighty, magnificent trees will be a memory, a postcard from the past, a snapshot of man's inhumanity to the natural world. We're responsible for catastrophic climate change. And only we can stop it."

He finished, with a slight turn to favor his good side, and a piercing stare from his baby blues, right into the lens.

"I have to pee-pee," one girl said.

The plane lifted off the runway and rose over the forest.

"Sorry to rush you," Evans said. "But we have to get to the morgue before six."

"No problem, no problem." Bradley smiled indulgently. After his talk, he had taken a few minutes to sign autographs for the kids. The cameras filmed that as well. He turned to Jennifer, giving her his best smile. "And what do you do, Miss Hadley?"

"I'm on the global warming legal team."

"Good, so you're one of us. How's the lawsuit going?"

"Just fine," she said, glancing at Evans.

"I get the feeling you're as brilliant as you are beautiful," Bradley said.

"Actually, no," she said. Evans could see that the actor was annoying her.

"You're being modest. It's very charming."

"I'm being honest," she said, "and telling you I don't like flattery."

"Hardly flattery, in your case," he said.

"And hardly honest, in yours," she replied.

"Believe me when I say that I genuinely admire what you're doing," Bradley said. "I can't wait for you people to stick it to the EPA. We have to keep the pressure on. That's why I did this thing with the kids. It's a sure-fire television segment for abrupt climate change. And I thought it went extremely well, didn't you?"

"Reasonably well, considering."

"Considering?"

"That it was all bullshit," Jennifer said.

Bradley's smile remained fixed, but his eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure what you're referring to," he said.

"I'm referring to all of it, Ted. The whole speech. Sequoias are sentinels and guardians of the planet? They have a message for us?"

"Well, they do"

"They're trees, Ted. Big trees. They have about as much of a message for mankind as an eggplant."

"I think you are missing"

"And they've managed to survive forest fires? Hardlythey're dependent on fires, because that's how they reproduce. Redwoods have tough seeds that only burst open in the heat of a fire. Fires are essential for the health of the redwood forest."

"I think," Bradley said rather stiffly, "that you may have missed my point."

"Really? What did I miss?"

"I was trying to conveyperhaps a bit lyricallythe timeless quality of these great primeval forests, and"

"Timeless? Primeval? Do you know anything about these forests?"

"Yes. I think I do." His voice was tight. He was visibly angry now.

"Look out the window," Jennifer said, pointing to the forest as they flew above it. "How long do you think your primeval forest has looked the way it does now?"

"Obviously, for hundreds of thousands of years"

"Not true, Ted. Human beings were here for many thousands of years before these forests ever appeared. Did you know that?"

He was clenching his jaw. He did not answer.

"Then let me lay it out for you," she said.

Twenty thousand years ago, the Ice Age glaciers receded from California, gouging out Yosemite Valley and other beauty spots as they left. As the ice walls withdrew, they left behind a gunky, damp plain with lots of lakes fed by the melting glaciers, but no vegetation at all. It was basically wet sand.

After a few thousand years, the land dried as the glaciers continued to move farther north. This region of California became arctic tundra, with tall grasses supporting little animals, like mice and squirrels. Human beings had arrived here by then, hunting the small animals and setting fires. "Okay so far?" Jennifer said. "No primeval forests yet."

"I'm listening," Ted growled. He was clearly trying to control his temper.

She continued. "At first, arctic grasses and shrubs were the only plants that could take hold in the barren glacial soil. But when they died they decomposed, and over thousands of years a layer of topsoil built up. And that initiated a sequence of plant colonization that was basically the same everywhere in post-glacial North America.

"First, lodgepole pine comes in. That's around fourteen thousand years ago. Later it's joined by spruce, hemlock, and aldertrees that are hardy but can't be first. These trees constitute the real primary' forest, and they dominated this landscape for the next four thousand years. Then the climate changed. It got much warmer, and all the glaciers in California melted. There were no glaciers at all in California back then. It was warm and dry, there were lots of fires, and the primary forest burned. It was replaced by a plains-type vegetation of oak trees and prairie herbs. And a few Douglas fir trees, but not many, because the climate was too dry for fir trees.

"Then, around six thousand years ago, the climate changed again. It became wetter, and the Douglas fir, hemlock, and cedar moved in and took over the land, creating the great closed-canopy forests that you see now. But someone might refer to these fir trees as a pest plantan oversized weedthat invaded the landscape, crowding out the native plants that had been there before them. Because these big canopy forests made the ground too dark for other trees to survive. And since there were frequent fires, the closed-canopy forests were able to spread like mad. So they're not timeless, Ted. They're merely the last in line."

Bradley snorted. "They're still six thousand years old, for God's sake."

But Jennifer was relentless. "Not true," she said. "Scientists have shown that the forests continuously changed their composition. Each thousand-year period was different from the one before it. The forests changed constantly, Ted. And then, of course, there were the Indians."

"What about them?"

"The Indians were expert observers of the natural world, so they realized that old-growth forests sucked. Those forests may look impressive, but they're dead landscapes for game. So the Indians set fires, making sure the forests burned down periodically. They made sure there were only islands of old-growth forest in the midst of plains and meadows. The forests that the first Europeans saw were hardly primeval. They were cultivated, Ted. And it's not surprising that one hundred fifty years ago, there was less old-growth forest than there is today. The Indians were realists. Today, it's all romantic mythology."* She sat back in her chair.

"Well, that's a very nice speech," Bradley said. "But those are technical objections. People aren't interested. And it's a good thing, because you're saying that these forests aren't really old and therefore aren't worth preserving. Whereas I say they are reminders of the beauty and power of the natural world and should be preserved at all costs. Especially from the dire threat of global warming."

Jennifer blinked. She said, "I need a drink."

"I'll join you there," Bradley said.

For Evanswho had intermittently been attempting to call Detective Perry while this discussion was taking placethe most disturbing aspect was the implication of constant change. Evans had never really focused on the idea that Indians had lived at the same time as the glaciers. Of course, he knew that this was true. He knew that early Indians had hunted the mammoth and other large mammals to extinction. But he had never considered the possibility that they would also have burned forests and changed the environment to suit their purposes.