State of Fear

"Yes," Kenner said, leaning forward in the booth of the restaurant. They were in the back of a steakhouse in Flagstaff. The jukebox at the bar was playing old Elvis Presley: "Don't Be Cruel." Kenner and Sarah had showed up just a few minutes before. Sarah, Evans thought, looked drawn and worried. Not her usual cheerful self.

 

"We think this is all about the weather," Kenner was saying. "In fact, we're sure it is." He paused while a waitress brought salads, then continued. "There are two reasons to think so. First, ELF has bought a considerable amount of expensive technology that seems to have no use in common, except perhaps attempts to influence the weather. And second, the--"

 

"Hold on, hold on," Evans said. "You said attempts to influence the weather?"

 

"Exactly."

 

"Influence how?"

 

"Control it," Sanjong said.

 

Evans leaned back in the booth. "This is crazy," he said. "I mean, you're telling me these guys think they can control the weather?"

 

"They can," Sarah said.

 

"But how?" Evans said. "How could they do it?"

 

"Most of the research is classified."

 

"Then how do they get it?"

 

"Good question," Kenner said. "And we'd like to know that answer. But the point is, we assume that these rocket arrays are designed to produce major storms, or to amplify the power of existing storms."

 

"By doing what?"

 

"They cause a change in the electric potentials of the infra-cumulus strata."

 

"I'm glad I asked," Evans said. "That's very clear."

 

"We don't really know the details," Kenner said, "although I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

 

"The strongest evidence," Sanjong said, "comes from the pattern of park rentals. These guys have arranged for lots of picnics over a large area--three states, in point of fact. Which means they are probably going to decide at the last minute where to act, based on existing weather conditions."

 

"Decide what?" Evans said. "What are they going to do?"

 

Nobody spoke.

 

Evans looked from one to another.

 

"Well?"

 

"We know one thing," Kenner said. "They want it documented. Because if there's one thing you can count on at a school picnic or a company outing with families and kids, it's lots of cameras. Lots of video, lots of stills."

 

"And then of course the news crews will come," Sanjong said.

 

"They will? Why?"

 

"Blood draws cameras," Kenner said.

 

"You mean they're going to hurt people?"

 

"I think it's clear," Kenner said, "that they're going to try."

 

An hour later they all sat on lumpy motel beds while Sanjong hooked a portable DVD player to the television set in the room. They were in a crappy motel room in Shoshone, Arizona, twenty miles north of Flagstaff.

 

On the screen, Evans once again saw Henley talking to Drake.

 

"I've listened to you before," Drake said resentfully. "And it didn't work."

 

"Think structurally," Henley answered. He was leaning back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling, fingertips tented.

 

"What the hell does that mean?" Drake said.

 

"Think structurally, Nicholas. In terms of how information functions. What it holds up, what holds it up."

 

"This is just PR bullshit."

 

"Nicholas," Henley said, sharply. "I am trying to help you."

 

"Sorry." Drake looked chastened. He hung his head a little.

 

Watching the screen, Evans said, "Does it look like Henley is in charge here?"

 

"He's always been in charge," Kenner said. "Didn't you know that?"

 

On the screen, Henley was saying, "Let me explain how you are going to solve your problem, Nicholas. The solution is simple. You have already told me that global warming is unsatisfactory because whenever there is a cold snap, people forget about it."

 

"Yes, I told you--"

 

"So what you need," Henley said, "is to structure the information so that whatever kind of weather occurs, it always confirms your message. That's the virtue of shifting the focus to abrupt climate change. It enables you to use everything that happens. There will always be floods, and freezing storms, and cyclones, and hurricanes. These events will always get headlines and airtime. And in every instance, you can claim it is an example of abrupt climate change caused by global warming. So the message gets reinforced. The urgency is increased."

 

"I don't know," Drake said doubtfully. "That's been tried, the last couple of years."

 

"Yes, on a scattered, individual basis. Isolated politicians, making claims about isolated storms or floods. Clinton did it, Gore did it, that blithering science minister in England did it. But we're not talking about isolated politicians, Nicholas. We are talking about an organized campaign throughout the world to make people understand that global warming is responsible for abrupt and extreme weather events."

 

Drake was shaking his head. "You know," he said, "how many studies show no increase in extreme weather events."

 

"Please." Henley snorted. "Disinformation from skeptics."

 

"That's hard to sell. There are too many studies..."