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Read Ebook: The Impersonator by Wicks Robert Francis Dick Illustrator
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Ebook has 363 lines and 10798 words, and 8 pages
"We want Soviet and British science working hand-in-hand with the rest of us on this project. Anything less might spell disaster."
A murmur of approval greeted his words and the Englishman sat down. Professor Kotenko remained standing.
"You have the Soviet plan before you," he directed at Chandler.
"I've read it," said Chandler, glancing down at the document neatly bound in manuscript covers. "An interesting idea--increasing the greenhouse effect by adding carbon dioxide to the upper atmosphere. But the amount that could be added would only raise the temperature by a few degrees. Since snowfall increases considerably at the warmer temperatures close to the freezing point, we would only be compounding our problem."
Kotenko's features stiffened. "The plan also includes changing the albedo of the ice by coating it with coal dust. Not only would this raise the mean temperature, it would melt the--"
"What happens when it snows over your precious coal dust?" the Britisher cut in.
"We are suggesting a continuous dusting program." The Russian took his seat.
"The plan is not without merit," Chandler said. "However, we've received almost as many plans as there are members on this commission."
"Why not try all of them?" asked the Indonesian delegate.
"Or, at least, a program involving several," Marta Neilson modified. "Atomic heat and possibly infra-red radiation."
"We can't spread our efforts that thin," Chandler explained to the young woman. "Any one of these plans demands a concentration of money and effort such as the world has never known."
"And one thing strikes me," Dr. White put in. "None of these plans hits at the basic cause. They all treat symptoms, save for the Canadian proposal, which is quite out of the question."
"Are you getting back to freezing the Arctic Ocean again?" Kotenko challenged.
"One X-bomb on the Bering Strait Dam," the Englishman said.
"My dear Dr. White," returned the Russian, "the X-factor is best left under international ban."
The Englishman turned to the Canadian delegate. "Is it? Perhaps this is the time to screen your stop-motion studies of the destruction of Ottawa."
"What purpose could that possibly serve?" Kotenko protested. "We've all seen the glacier first-hand."
"It might well underscore the need for more action and less talk."
"Then," said the Indian delegate, "by all means, let's see them." Again there was a murmur of approval.
As the delegates rearranged their chairs to face the view-wall at the far end of the conference room, the Canadian pushed a button on a control console in front of him. The room lights dimmed.
"This study was recorded at the rate of one frame a day by the Canadian Glacial Control Commission. Tonight it will be released over the World Video Network. While everyone has seen pictures of what is happening in Ottawa, nothing quite so dramatic as this has been shown." He pushed another button.
The wall disappeared and Chandler felt he was actually looking across the rooftops of Ottawa, once the capital of Canada. At the edge of the business district loomed a massive wall of gray ice. It was pushing a ridge of boulders and dirt before it as it bore down on the city.
The scene dissolved to a closer view of the glacier. As Chandler watched, fascinated, the glacier ground the city under like a huge bulldozer. And still it came on and, for a moment, looked as if it might flow right into the conference room.
The lights came up and the wall became whole again. A few delegates swiveled their chairs back to the table; others continued gazing at the wall.
"Now," said the Canadian, "you can see why our plan calls for a dramatic approach."
"Tilting the Earth on its axis is quite out of the question," Dr. White said. "But freezing the Arctic and removing the source of the snow is practical."
"And time-consuming," the Canadian added.
But Chandler wasn't listening. A sudden dizziness swept over him. He felt strangely detached.
"I don't think we're capable of reversing the warm currents flowing into the Arctic," he found himself saying. "The Bering Strait Dam is one thing, but a dam across the North Atlantic...."
"Then what have you in mind?" asked the Russian.
"How would you react to a little suggestion of my own?" Again all eyes were on him. "Suppose we were to tap the heat right from the Earth's core?"
The reaction was dead silence. Finally the Englishman spoke.
"Mr. Chairman, in one breath you suggest the impracticability of damming off the waters of the Atlantic, and in the next you suggest drilling into the depths of the Earth!"
"Surely you are jesting," the Russian added. "Why not tilt the Earth, as the Canadians suggest, if we must lean to the sensational?"
"If I were not acquainted with your reputation, Dr. Chandler," the man from India said, "I would not for a moment entertain such a thought."
"Possibly," said the Englishman, "you mean pockets of magma near the surface."
"I mean the core itself," Chandler insisted.
"Gentlemen," Marta Neilson said. "As you know, I have been working rather closely with Dr. Chandler on the plans that have been suggested. However, tapping the core comes as a surprise even to me. But because I am acquainted not only with his reputation"--she acknowledged the Hindu with a nod--"but with his ability as well, I move that we allow Dr. Chandler to pick a committee to consider the feasibility and the consequences of such a plan."
"And what sort of magical drill is going to accomplish this?" the Russian demanded.
"The edge of the core is 1,800 miles down--" the Englishman started to say.
Chandler rapped his gavel once. "I believe there is a motion before us," he said.
Unlike the days before the threat of avalanches, the tubeway over the Sierra Nevada range was not heavily traveled. Twice in the past year avalanches had dislodged the tube, once resulting in a number of deaths--something that hadn't happened on American highways for nearly fifty years. But it was the most direct route to the Detroit Glacier Control Center.
"I'm not sure you made a wise choice in Kotenko," Marta said. She sat next to Chandler on the rear observation deck, occupying Professor Kotenko's seat while he chose to mingle with the passengers in the main lounge.
"Why?" asked Chandler.
"I picked him because I needed him."
Marta frowned slightly. "Now it's my turn to ask why."
"Kotenko isn't just another glaciologist or meteorologist," Chandler said. "His forte is pure science--creative science."
"But he's impractical." Marta sat back in her chair. "You were the first to point out the weaknesses of his greenhouse plan. In fact, you were rather vehement about it before the conference. What happened to change your mind?"
Chandler didn't answer. Instead, he stared disinterestedly at the snowy moonlit peaks distorted by the curvature of the transparent tubeway walls. Marta touched his arm.
"I don't mean to get personal," she said. "But you seem to have changed a great deal quite suddenly. You're colder, as if you had lost your sense of humor somehow."
Chandler met Marta's gaze. "In a way, I suppose I did."
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