{"id":2236,"date":"2021-04-17T15:14:30","date_gmt":"2021-04-17T22:14:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2236"},"modified":"2021-04-17T15:18:15","modified_gmt":"2021-04-17T22:18:15","slug":"end-of-an-era","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2021\/04\/17\/end-of-an-era\/","title":{"rendered":"End of an Era"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Set your story in a world living with the consequences of a climate apocalypse.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a warm, bright midnight in December, and time for my shift. The skies on the western horizon were tinged pinkish-orange, as they had been for nearly two months. I had a tall glass of water for breakfast, just like the previous day. Even after being in Antarctica for a year, it still shocked me how clean and pure it tasted. Unlike distilled water, which was flat and tasteless, this was sweet with a hint of minerals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

How long can a person last without food<\/em>, I wondered. A lot longer than they can without water.<\/em> That was the only thing that kept me moving. I hadn\u2019t eaten in forty hours or so and was feeling lethargic, but I had a job to do. I just wish the damn navy would do their job and let our supplies through.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I grabbed a radio and headed out to the equipment yard. \u201cMorning, Petersen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf it\u2019s morning, then we\u2019re late,\u201d he answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs long as we make quota, it doesn\u2019t matter what time we start.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alex Petersen, a Norwegian biologist, had been left behind when South Africa pulled out of the SANAE IV research station a few years earlier. He claimed no one would pick him up and take him home, but I think he stayed behind because he knew that things were as bad back home as they were everywhere else. At least Antarctica was mostly quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI never thought I\u2019d say it, but I miss the dried rations from the old station,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, well, I figure Big Boss\u2019ll have somebody\u2019s head before the day\u2019s out. She\u2019ll get our food to us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSix weeks with no radio communication, though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf she has to, she\u2019ll flat yell<\/em> loud enough to be heard in Sao Paolo. Either way, she\u2019ll make it happen.\u201d I didn\u2019t really believe that. North American pirate ships had been running a blockade on the Brasilia Water ships trying to collect ice or drop off supplies. It didn\u2019t stop me from hoping, though.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I drove an ice cutter. Carving out one-tonne blocks of ice that are then loaded onto water haulers. Old oil tankers, their diesel engines replaced with nuclear reactors that ran on the waste of the previous generations\u2019 reactors, were cleaned up and now carried pure water from Antarctica to\u2026 wherever<\/em>. The sea ice had been gone for a long time, towed off to the nearest land to stave off the impending collapse in years past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTurner, you need to cut these short. We\u2019re almost to ground,\u201d Petersen radioed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI got you,\u201d I said. Ground penetrating radar showed me that I had eight and a half meters of ice before I\u2019d hit the rocky soil beneath. I set the rig to cut to eight meters depth and made eight one-tonne blocks per cut rather than twelve. \u201cWe\u2019ll have to move further inland again next week.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It would be the third move in six months; cutting a new road to get to the top of the ice pack. Starting a new cut on top of the pack made harvesting easier, once the road was cut. The road was cut into the ice by removing it wedges and creating a slope the equipment could climb. Every move, though, made the workday a little longer by extending our commute that extra fifty meters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We made our quota before noon, and the day was warming. It was 10\u00ba C by the time we returned the equipment to the yard. The mood in the station was bleak. After two weeks on severely limited rations, our last meal, more than two days ago, was around 200 grams of instant mashed potatoes each. It was remarkable how fast previously healthy people turn gaunt when working with little or no food.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Big Boss stood up and cleared her throat. Her name was Fatima Ahmad, but we all called her Big Boss. She was the supervisor, dispute settler, and substitute mother to us all. She had to be over sixty, but she was tougher than anybody else I\u2019d ever met.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re not cutting any more ice until we get two ships in and out,\u201d she said. When the mix of complaints and relief subsided, she continued. \u201cWe don\u2019t have any space on the dock until we get a freighter loaded, and we\u2019re losing too much to melt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAny idea when that is? Or are we going to starve to death first?\u201d Petersen said what we were all thinking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood news is, there\u2019s a ship coming in tonight at 21:00. The Crystal Palace is bringing food, new coveralls, medicine, machine parts, and fuel salts for the reactor. They\u2019ll then be loaded to maximum with as much ice as we can cram into her. We\u2019ll have to wait for the next ship before we start cutting again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the bad news?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe water wars have gotten worse, and BW is no more. We now work for the PanAfrica something or other.\u201d She leaned against the wall. \u201cWe all knew it was going to get worse. It seems that idea just got very real.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat about the Ice Queen?\u201d someone asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDisappeared six weeks ago, presumed sunk.\u201d She cursed under her breath in a language I didn\u2019t recognize. \u201cWaste of a good ship and all our supplies.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care who we work for,\u201d I said, \u201cas long as we eat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe that\u2019s what took them so long to contact us,\u201d she said. \u201cThe new outfit took over six weeks ago. A day before our supply was due. Maybe they want to make sure we\u2019re ready to accept the new order.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNothing better to keep a crew in line than to starve them and hang a bone in front of them if they play nice,\u201d Petersen said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo way,\u201d I said. \u201cIf they could\u2019ve gotten the supplies here on time but didn\u2019t, I\u2019m far more likely to stop working altogether.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou do that,\u201d she said, \u201cand you won\u2019t eat. No work, no food. You don\u2019t make quota, we<\/em> don\u2019t make quota. We\u2019re in this together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, I know, just grumbling out loud.\u201d I looked around at the haggard faces around me. Fifteen people, from fifteen different countries. The only things we shared were varying degrees of skill with English, and the fact that we had nothing left to live for outside of Antarctica. Those who did, left years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I would<\/em> say we all had nothing left to lose, but shared adversity can turn a group of strangers into a family. We had that to lose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Petersen said, \u201cLook out, Turner\u2019s about to say something mushy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Playing along I said, \u201cI love you all so much,\u201d in a mocking tone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Crystal Palace pulled into port right on time, flanked by three gunboats and flying a flag striped in red, green, and black. The deck of the ship was manned with at least thirty armed guards, and a rail gun had been fitted to her prow. It looked like the new operators were not going to wait around for anyone\u2019s navy to save them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Big Boss was operating the crane, which had a 50-calibre machine gun fitted to it, and we all had pistols to protect against dock raiders. It had worked so far, but now we were so far outgunned it was ludicrous. After a tense minute of sizing each other up, Big Boss got on the radio. \u201cLet\u2019s go, people. Let\u2019s get our gear and load this lady.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Three hours later, we had offloaded four truckloads of supplies and loaded in 232,000 blocks of ice weighing about a ton each. The melt that gathered in the pit below ice storage was ours to do with as we pleased and was pumped to the station.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I plugged the forklift I\u2019d been operating back in to charge and was ready to drive one of the trucks back to the station when I saw Big Boss talking to one of the guards who\u2019d left the ship. She keyed her radio. \u201cGuys, gather \u2018round.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We approached, not sure what was going on. The wind shifted and I smelled the unmistakable aroma of meat cooking over an open fire. My stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself, and the others all shared the same look of unease.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome, eat!\u201d the armed guard said, his rifle slung across his back and his hands wide. \u201cMy name is Armand Niambele, and we are your friends.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all I needed to hear,\u201d Petersen said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t fancy, but it was the best-tasting thing I\u2019ve ever had. Sausages with spicy mustard on stale buns, fresh cantaloupe, papayas, and pineapple. Grilled asparagus spears and red-skinned potatoes rounded out the meal, with a tangy, sweet, dark red drink they called \u201csobolo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Having eaten our fill, we were too logy to move back to the station. Instead, we started talking with our new bosses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe are the Pan-Africa-Asia Alliance,\u201d Armand said. \u201cWe fight the warlords and pirates and try to help the farmers. We trade less than half the water; just enough to keep operating. Instead of hoarding it like the companies, we give the rest free to the farmers and villages that need it most and can do the most good with it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you\u2019re trading less than half the water, where does the food and reactor fuel and everything else come from then?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He laughed. \u201cWe have our own army and navy. What we can\u2019t get in trade we take from the warlords and pirates, and the water tankers are often given gifts from the people we help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo, you\u2019re pirates and warlords yourselves?\u201d Petersen asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou could see it that way,\u201d he said, \u201cif you wish. As long as you remember you work for these<\/em> pirates and not any others. For now, your quotas are reduced until we get more tankers. There\u2019s a case of whiskey with your supplies. Whatever liquor we find we\u2019ll share with you, since you are doing more to save your fellow man than anyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you happen to leave us any ammo?\u201d Big Boss asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, and one of the gunboats will be staying to protect the docks.\u201d He looked at her radio. \u201cIf you need help you can call them on maritime channel 14. They will always be monitoring.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd they\u2019re just cooped up on the ship until you come back?\u201d Petersen asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey will patrol the docks but stay close to the ship,\u201d Armand said. \u201cAnd they will be replaced with another gunboat every two weeks or so\u2026 we hope.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat happened to Brasilia Water?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not entirely sure,\u201d he said, \u201cbut we answered a distress call from the Crystal Palace. Something about BW going silent during the South American fire.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, you haven\u2019t heard? The pampas and the Amazon are on fire. Most of it is gone, along with Brazil. Started with a nuke in Sao Paolo.\u201d He pointed to the orange sky in the west. \u201cThat\u2019s smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen why did it take you so long to get to us?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUntil the Crystal Palace joined our fleet, we didn\u2019t know where you were.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cWhen the Ice Queen showed up, we loaded the Crystal Palace as quickly as we could and made way here under full steam.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Ice Queen?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe last logs show she was boarded by pirates. Then she drifted, empty, to South Africa. We found a new captain and crew,\u201d he said, \u201cand more gunboats for security. The Ice Queen will be here in two weeks for the next load.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 02:00 the Crystal Palace pulled out of port, followed by two of the gunboats. We drove the truckloads of supplies to the station and loaded everything in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fatima\u2019s face was haggard, more tired than I\u2019d ever seen her. \u201cHey, Big Boss,\u201d I asked, \u201cwhat happens when all the ice is gone?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy guess,\u201d she said, \u201cis the extinction event that ends the Anthropocene era.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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