Dan sailed toward the connecting tunnel, wondering whom the hell he could trust to analyze Cramer’s blood.
28 AUGUST 1998
— ATLANTA
The space probe Magellan, launched by NASA in May, 1989, was principally devoted to studying the surface geology of Venus. Its findings, however, suggested a dismal future for Planet Earth unless physical processes already set in motion can be reversed.
Although they are astronomical twins, Earth and Venus are environmental opposites. The atmosphere of Venus, composed of carbon dioxide (96%), nitrogen (3%), and trace amounts of other gases such as sulfur dioxide, is completely inhospitable to life. Earth’s atmosphere, of course, is composed of nitrogen (79%), oxygen (20%), and less than 1% of carbon dioxide, water vapor, and other trace gases.
Most astronomers agree that the atmospheres of both planets were once composed of carbon dioxide, water vapor, and nitrogen. The condensation of Earth’s water vapor dissolved the atmospheric carbon dioxide and trapped it in carbonate rocks. As a result, the proportion of oxygen increased to a level capable of sustaining life. Prior to the Magellan Project, the accepted view was that Venus’s proximity to the sun prevented condensation of water vapor and the planet remained a “hothouse” of carbon dioxide and sulfur dioxide. Magellan has forced a reassessment of this view.
Geological data now suggests that significant amounts of water once existed on the surface of Venus. Therefore, Venus—with its surface temperatures of nearly 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit, atmospheric pressures 90 times that of Earth, and perpetual, dense cloud cover—does not represent a divergent development but a continuation of processes already occurring on Earth.
The small decade-by-decade increases in the amount of carbon dioxide and sulfuric acid (acid rain) in Earth’s atmosphere must be corrected. // not, there is little doubt that Earth may one day become the environmental twin of Venus.
—Excerpt from the introduction to “A Chemical Assessment of Ocean Pollution and Its Long-Term Effects on Marine Flora”
“Aaron, Aaron.” Ed Yablon smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, sending a crack through the cold dry air of his office. He swiveled his chair so that he faced the window, turning his back to Aaron Weiss. Twilight steamed over Atlanta. A thin band of dirty orange was all that remained of sunset. Ghostly hulks of skyscrapers were dappled with yellow office lights.
Yablon could see the reflection of his own office in the tinted glass of the window. His cigar stub glowed weakly, like the sun through fog. Weiss paced on the far side of Yablon’s desk like a cat contemplating a leap from a ledge. He twirled his Donegal walking hat from hand to hand. Beyond Weiss, Zeke Tucker was wedged into the only section of couch not littered with papers and boxes. Yablon couldn’t understand how the equable cameraman had tolerated Weiss for seventeen years. He himself had been the reporter’s bureau chief for a mere three and he was certain the experience would launch him toward early retirement, if not a coronary.
“You like the whale story,” said Weiss. He sailed his hat toward a coat rack where a faded cardigan sweater dangled limply. The hat bounced between two hooks, then landed on Tucker’s lap. Tucker brushed it to the floor.
“I like the whale story,” said Yablon. “I love the whale story. But I don’t see the connection between dead whales and space stations.”
Weiss’s image disappeared behind the desk, then rose again into view, hat on head.
“Am I talking English, Zeke?” he asked the cameraman. “I mean, I thought I explained the connection.”
Yablon slowly rotated his chair until he was facing Weiss. He leaned his elbows onto the desk and let his head hang between his hands.
“Tell me again.” He spoke softly in an attempt to appear calm. Blue smoke curled toward the ceiling and bits of ash drifted down to his lap.
Weiss plopped into the creaking leather-covered chair in front of the desk. Leaning forward intently, he said, “Forty-six whales have died since the last week in July, and these are only the ones we know about.” He swiveled the chair to glance at Tucker and then looked back at Yablon. When each nodded in mute agreement, he continued. “We also know that the diet of these whales consists of plankton.” Another pause for more nods. “And we know that they died of starvation. Therefore, the level of plankton in the oceans has dropped.”