Fifty Degrees Below. Kim Stanley Robinson

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      When Kenzo and his team had left, Diane turned to Frank. ‘What do you think?’

      ‘It looks serious. It may get people to take action.’

      ‘Except by now it may be too late.’

      ‘Yes.’

      They considered that in silence for a few moments, and then Diane said, ‘Let’s talk about your second year here, how to organize it to get the most out of you.’

      That was a pretty blunt way to put it, given Diane’s manipulations, but Frank was careful not to express any resentment. ‘Sure,’ he said. It had been documented that if you forced your face to take on pleasant expressions, your mood tended helplessly to follow. So, small smile of acceptance; pull chair up to desk.

      They worked their way down a list Diane had made identifying areas where NSF might do something to deal with the impacts of abrupt climate change. As they did Frank saw that Diane was well ahead of him in thinking about these matters, which he found a little surprising, although of course it made sense; otherwise why would she have wanted him to stay another year? His letter would not have been what brought her the news of NSF’s ineffectiveness in dealing with a crisis situation.

      She spoke very quickly. Slightly fog-minded, Frank struggled to keep up, looking at her more closely than ever before. Of course every face was inscrutable in the end. Diane’s was dramatically planed, cheekbones, forehead, and jaw all distinct and somehow angled to each other. Formal; formidable. Asian dragon lady, yes. She drew the eye. She was about ten years Frank’s senior, he had gathered; a widow, he had heard; had been NSF head for a long time, Frank wasn’t sure how long. Famous for her incredibly long work days. They used to call people like her workaholics before everyone got up to speed and the concept had gone away. Once Edgardo had said of Diane, she makes Anna look like a slacker, and Frank had shuddered, because Anna was a veritable maniac for work. Anything beyond that pretty much had to be insane. And this was who he was going to be working for.

      Well, fine. He had not stayed in D.C. to fool around. He too wanted to work long hours. And now it was clear he would have Diane’s ear and her support, therefore the cooperation of anyone needed at NSF; things would therefore get done. That was the only thing that would make staying in Washington bearable.

      He focused on her list:

      • Coordinate already existing federal programs

      • Establish new institutes and programs where necessary

      • Work with Sophie Harper, NSF’s congressional liaison officer, to contact and educate all the relevant Congressional committees and staffs, and help craft appropriate legislation

      • Work with the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, the UN Environmental Program, its Millennial Project, and other international efforts

      • Identify, evaluate and rank all potential climate mitigation possibilities: clean energy, carbon sequestration, etc.

      This last item, to Frank, would create the real Things To Do list.

      ‘We’ll have to go to New York and talk to people about that stuff,’ Diane said.

      ‘Yes.’

      It would be interesting to watch her there. Asian martial arts were often about turning one’s opponents’ force against them. Certainly she had floored Frank that way. Maybe the rest of the world would follow.

      But reviewing the list, he felt a surge of impatience. He tried to express this to Diane politely: he didn’t want to spend his extra year starting studies. He wanted to find where small applications of money and effort could trigger larger actions. He wanted to do things. If the weather was going to heat up, he wanted to cool it. If vice versa, then vice versa. He wanted to identify a viable new energy generation system, he wanted to sequester billions of tons of carbon, he wanted to minimize human suffering and the loss of other species. He wanted impossible things! Quickly he scribbled a new list for their mutual inspection:

      • direct climate mitigation

      • carbon sequestration (bio, physical)

      • water cycle interventions

      • clean renewable energy (biomass, solar, wave, tide, wind)

      • political action

      • a new paradigm (permaculture)

      Diane read the list. Her expression of subtle amusement became a full smile, perfectly scrutable.

      ‘You think big.’

      ‘Well, it’s a big situation. I mean even the Gulf Stream stall is only a proximate cause. The ultimate causes have to do with the whole situation. Carbon, consumption, population, technology, all that. We’ll have to try to take all that on if we’re going to actually do something.’

      ‘There are other agencies working on these things. In fact, lots of this isn’t really our purview.’

      ‘Yes, well, but – we are the National Science Foundation,’ emphasizing the words. ‘It isn’t really clear yet just how big a purview such an organization should have. Given the importance of science in this world, you could argue that it should be pretty much everything. But for sure it should be the place to coordinate the scientific effort. Beyond that, who knows? It’s a new situation.’

      ‘True,’ she said, still smiling at him in her amused way. ‘Well, okay! Let’s go get some lunch and talk about it.’

      Frank tried to conceal his surprise. ‘Sure.’

      

      The hotel above the Ballston Metro offered a buffet lunch that was so fancy that it redefined the concept. The restaurant was cool and quiet, decorated in the finest American Hotel Anonymous. Diane appeared to know it well, and to have a hidden corner table reserved. She filled a big plate with salad and some strips of seared flank steak, and took no bread. Iced tea without sugar. She was dressed in a businesslike skirt and heavy silk blouse, and Frank saw as he followed her that it was all perfectly tailored and fitted, and looked expensive. She moved gracefully, looked strong. Usually Frank’s eye was not attracted to short women, but when it happened it was a matter of proportion, a kind of regal bearing. She wore flat shoes, and did not seem attentive to herself. Probably, judging by her food, thought of herself as overweight. But she looked good.

      The irrepressible sociobiologist that was always theorizing inside Frank wondered if he was experiencing some bias here, given that she was a powerful alpha female, and his boss. Perhaps all alpha females were somehow physically impressive, and this part of their alpha-ness; it was generally true of males.

      They sat, ate, spoke of other things. Frank asked about her kids.

      ‘Grown up and moved out. It’s easier now.’ She spoke offhandedly, as if talking about a matter that did not really concern her. ‘How could it not be.’

      ‘For a while it must have been busy.’

      ‘Oh yes.’

      ‘Where were you before NSF?’

      ‘University of Washington. Biophysics. СКАЧАТЬ