The Depths of Time (61 page)

“
It
’
s not a time to be cute-or clever,
”
Chandray said
sharply.
“
We all know what we mean by
inhabitable.”

“
Forgive me,
”
said Vandar.
“
I wasn
’
t trying to be clever.
My point is that we all
think
we know what we mean
by
inhabitable. If
—
if
the worst-case scenario of Admiral Koffield
’
s model plays out, the current trend of a very slight
decrease in the levels of atmospheric oxygen will start to accelerate in the near future. Or maybe the drop won
’
t speed up for a decade or more. But once the drop does accelerate, within about five years
’
time of that event, oxygen
levels will be low enough, and carbon dioxide levels will be
high enough, that humans will not be able to breathe the
open atmosphere without some sort of respirator. Does that make the planet uninhabitable?

“
Shortly thereafter, the greenhouse effect will reach the
runaway stage, and it will become too hot for unprotected humans in most regions. We
’
ll need cooling suits and respirators, but we could still extract oxygen from the air and
find water to drink. Is
that
uninhabitable? About five to
ten years after that, my hunch is that the weather patterns
will have become so violent that only reinforced structures
will survive for any length of time. But, inside such a shel
ter, people could live and work quite comfortably. Is
that
uninhabitable? You could define any of those stages as
uninhabitable.
Choose which one you will.

“
We could maintain a human presence on the planet
even if all the oxygen came out of the atmosphere,
”
Vandar
went on.
“
We could build reinforced domes over the cities
and dig underground warrens. We
’
d certainly have to call the planet uninhabitable by then, but people could still in
habit this world.
”

“
There
’
s no way we can build enough domed cities in
time,
”
said Neshobe.
“
And even if we did, it would be
bloody hell maintaining their internal environments.
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am,
”
Vandar said mildly.
“
I quite agree. Sealed domes and underwarrens are not sustainable un
less they are very carefully managed. They are difficult to
establish and maintain even under the best circumstances—
and we will not have the best of circumstances by any means.
”

“
Where do you make your last stand?
”
Koffield asked.
“
How long and how hard will you fight against an unbeatable enemy? And how much effort do you put into the final redoubt that might survive, and how much into the outer defenses that will certainly fall?
”

“
You talk as if we are going into a war, Admiral Koffield.
”

“
You—we—are
in
a war, Madam Kalzant. A war against
a planet that was forced to support life against its will. It is
counterattacking, and it will, eventually, win, though it might allow you to retain small enclaves, reinforced sealed domes and warrens, here and there—if you decide it is worth fighting hard enough, and intelligently enough,
merely to win such a limited and qualified victory.
”

“
Madam Kalzant,
”
said Parrige,
“
I think I see the point
that these gentlemen are trying to make. It is a question of resource management and allocation.
”

Neshobe glared at Parrige, then back toward Koffield and Vandar, both of whom were nodding their agreement. They had gone mad. All of them had gone mad and decided to gang up on her. Oxygen levels, war, management and allocation theory—it was all so much gibberish.

Ashdin cleared her throat timidly and spoke.
“
Madam—
Madam Kalzant, if I might?
”

“
Oh, please, go ahead.
”
Neshobe slumped back in her chair. If they were looking toward Ashdin as the voice of reason, then things were becoming dire indeed.

“
I know I’m not much at policy or strategy or any of that,
”
Ashdin said.
“
I get fascinated by old stories, people out of the past, that sort of thing. Oskar DeSilvo is one of my interests. Another is the fall of Glister, the real story behind all the legends and myths.
”
She turned to Koffield.
“
I doubt you
’
ve had the chance to learn much
about what happened on Glister. It happened decades after
your disappearance. The long and the short of it was that Glister came up against the same sort of climatic crisis we are facing here today. They had bad weather, extinctions
of species, algae blooms, air-quality deterioration, oxygen levels dropping. So they worked hard to stabilize the situation, as we have, investing a lot of time and money. Things kept getting worse. The planetary government announced a crash program, top priority, to provide respirators for every citizen, and sealant and partial-pressure-oxygen injectors for every building and residence, a stopgap until the atmospheric reoxygenation project could be brought on-line.

“
But the reoxygenation program never worked very well. It slowed the decline in oxygen levels for a while, but never was able to stop the decline, let alone reverse it.

“
So the government decided to build temporary domes over the largest cities and provide what they called enhanced sealing for outlying houses. And of course people weren
’
t willing to wait for the government to do the job while the air itself was going bad—there were all sorts of private projects as well—all of them top priority, all of them rush jobs. Then the weather turned worse, and all sorts of corrosive compounds started precipitating out of the air, raining down on the domes, damaging them.

“
There were unprecedented extremes of cold and heat, the weather patterns became completely unpredictable, and the storms grew more and more violent as the whole planet fell out of equilibrium. There were all sorts of plans put forward to build reinforced domes and underground habitats, all sorts of brilliant evacuation schemes worked out—but nothing could be done. The other, earlier crash programs and rush projects had used up all the money, time, and resources. They had expended all their energies before the
real
crisis hit.
”

“
And we
’
re in the first stages of doing the same thing,
”
said Neshobe.
“
So what do we do? Yesterday we were trying to get through a spell of bad weather. This morning the planet is doomed. Yesterday we were going to have to work hard if we were going to get the climate back the way we want it. Now it turns out we can
’
t repair the ecosphere no matter how hard we try. Even if we make an all-out
effort, the best we can hope is to maintain the unsatisfac
tory status quo, at the cost of making the end come faster.
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am. Those are the essentials of the situation,
”
Koffield said.

“
Then what?
”
Neshobe demanded.
“
What do we do?
”

“
Evacuate the planet,
”
Norla Chandray suggested.

Neshobe looked at Chandray in irritated astonishment.
How long had Chandray been on Solace? Twelve hours at
most? Easy enough for
her
to suggest planetary evacuation.
It wouldn
’
t be her world, wouldn
’
t be her family uprooted
after a hundred or more years, wouldn
’
t be her forced to abandon all her possessions without a chance to—

But then Neshobe remembered just how much Chandray
and Koffield had been forced to give up, how much had
been stolen from them. Not just their worlds, but their
times. Their homes had ceased to exist, just as surely as the
homes of the Glisterns had been destroyed.

Still and all, even if Norla Chandray was due a bit of re
spect, and even sympathy, that did not mean her idea had
any merit.
“
Evacuate them to where?
”
she asked.

“
To orbiting habitats, or maybe to Greenhouse,
”
Chandray replied.

“
All the orbital habitats are at or beyond their preferred population points,
”
Raenau said.
“
Several are refusing all
new arrivals. You
’
ve just seen what it
’
s like on SCO Station.
”

“
The habitats are at their
preferred
population points,
”
Vandar put in, rapidly working his scriber over his data-
page. But that
’
s not the same as their
carrying
capacity. Let
’
s
see.
”
He brought up the data he wanted on his page and read it over.
“
According to this, there are just about three-point-two million people on the planet, and roughly the
same number—about three-point-one-five million—in the
various habitats throughout the Solacian system. They
’
re
the ones orbiting the planet, the asteroid miners, the free-
stellar-orbit habs, everything. The combined certified carry
ing capacity of the various habitats is slightly over four million.
”

“
That sounds as if there
’
s at least some room for an orderly initial evacuation,
”
said Parrige.

“
And we can always build more habs,
”
said Ashdin.

Neshobe struggled to control her temper. Parrige and Ashdin were the two persons at the table least qualified on the subject of space habitats. Ashdin she could almost excuse, but Jorl Parrige should have known better.
“
It
’
s not quite that simple,
”
she said.

“
Obviously it would not be simple or easy,
”
Parrige said,
“
but if we have excess capacity there, and people who need new homes here, surely it makes sense to match them up.
”

“
No, it doesn
’
t,
”
said Raenau.

“
Indeed?
”
Parrige asked, bristling a bit at the station commander
’
s insolence.

Neshobe let out a weary sigh. Parrige was a valuable advisor, and a good friend, but the very traits that made him valuable often made him infuriating. When it came to policy, to big ideas, he thought in numbers, in theory, in absolutes. If the numbers said a thing could be done, he tended to assume not only that it could be done, but that it
should
be done—even to assume it
would
be done. But Raenau was out of line talking to a Grand Senyor that way.
“
Perhaps, Commander Raenau, you could be a bit
less
succinct,
”
she said.
“
Explain, please, why doesn
’
t it make sense.
”

“
Carrying capacity means the maximum possible number of people that could be supported in an emergency, if another hab was evacuated, or whatever,
”
he said.
“
It
’
s the absolute, worst-case, brick-wall limit. Carrying capacity assumes all systems are functioning—no accidents, no breakdowns. It
’
s how many people a habitat could sustain if everything worked perfectly and everyone went on short food rations, power rationing, water rationing, everything rationed. So you tell me, Senyor Parrige, how many habitats would be willing to take on their maximum possible population load in the form of half-starved, uneducated, indigent, disease-ridden dirtsiders who know nothing of habitat life and have no skills that are of much use in space? Could you force them if they refused? And if
you used force on one hab, what would happen on all
the others? And even if all the habitats
did
go along with
you, how many would collapse because something
did
go
wrong and there were no resources available to see the sys
tem through while repairs were made?
”