Hope

August 2019.

Temperatures, that summer had risen beyond belief. The North Pole’s ice-cap was shrinking in a hell of heat. Sea levels were up by two feet and some land masses had gone under.

World leaders could not agree, on anything. The United Nations had tried everything in it’s power to calm tensions and sadly the majority of nations had resigned. The European Union had unraveled like a ball of wool on a spindle and North America’s countries were separated by walls. Trade agreements were as good as shredded paper, media was muzzled and the internet was source of deception and deceit. Reckless words were uttered. The weather’s wrath had devastated communities.

And then, the first nuclear bomb fell, erupting like a volcano spewing it’s gasses and molten rock in a mushroom over Paris. It happened in a flash.

By the end of 2019, the aftermath saw a flattened landscape over the bulk of the Northern Hemisphere. Every country that had an arsenal of nuclear weapons, unleashed their venom against their rivals and neighbors; North and South Korea, India, Pakistan, China, Russia, the USA and of course Turkey, Syria, Iran, and Iraq. Other nations were caught in the fallout of ill winds bearing dust and radiation.

Swaths of people had evaporated in the intense heat of burning cities and the radiation that followed. No one could possibly know how many people died but it must been over three billion of the seven billion alive before the conflict and most of that was in the Northern hemisphere.

The struggle to survive was precarious. Radiation was the killer. Millions of tons of particles, rocketed into the stratosphere were carried by west-to-east winds forming a belt straddling the Northern Hemisphere, gradually heading south.

Francis Hope sat on the old sofa, wrapped in a blanket. She wore leggings under her sweatpants, a thermal vest covered by a soccer jersey and a coat, mittens and a hoodie, all of which barely lent relief to the bone chilling cold. She was thinking of her time in Paris at the UN climate negotiations in 2015. That treaty stemmed from a broken system, a system bent towards economic growth that spewed ever-increasing emissions.

Her companion, Guy Plume, who she met at that conference was heating water on their small camping stove. Likewise he was dressed to stay warm as best he could; the brown shabby army surplus great coat contrasted with his bright orange ski hat.

They lived together in Edmonton working to stem the rise of global warming. Activists at heart, they protested the blind allegiance to the economy of oil and fossil fuels

Edmonton was not immune from falling chemicals.

Guy sat next to Fran and looking at her said, “The question bugging me is how do we move forward from here? Everything is fragmented. This world is all we have; there’s no other place to go, we have to work to fix it.”

The ice covered window panes shuddered in confirmation, conveying the dismal dark grey world beyond.

“Yes, Guy we have a great chance to help save our planet,” she said, giving voice to her thoughts through the steaming hot cup of tea he had given her. “This is the time to innovate; to build something new; a new economic system.”

“Fran, before we get there our immediate challenge is finding food, water and healthcare. As an activist I have been so immersed in the threat of global warming that this Nuclear Winter has turned it upside down for us.”

“I know what you mean. Our ideals have been blown away.”

To help pass the time they continued with their discussion on how to build something new.

“Living off the land while we were camping suggests to me that sourcing food and water locally is the best way for communities to survive as they did so long ago,” said Guy.

“Taking that further Guy, smaller decentralized energy systems work for me and there would be less strain on those systems if we worked flexible time, say 4 days a week. The lack of sunshine will hamper the growth of food in greenhouses, but the technology of growing veggies and fruit in warehouses is so advanced now that it should be sufficient to sustain us.”

“Fran, remember when we first started camping we borrowed all that equipment; that’s like sharing and this should be part of an economic model for our future. Like renting goods and services.”

“You know, Guy, I am thinking it’s all different now but strangely the same; looking for alternative sources of energy and building localized economies like those ‘cotton industries’.”

“You’re right Fran. Biomass fuels will play a big part in our future. I will never forget seeing all those mushrooms growing, with no sunlight, in the moss on dead trees. The way we cooked them over the moose dung and wood chips made them taste so good.”

They were improvising under extreme conditions.

Edmonton’s Emergency Response team, over time imparted information to the public.

“Edmonton is far from the explosions, but the risk of contamination from radiation is high. Under no circumstances should you venture outside. We are in this together and obligated as individuals to help each other survive this trauma. No one should be left behind.”

“The nuclear explosions three years ago sent massive clouds of black carbon into the stratosphere blocking so much sunlight that global temperatures fell by 10 degrees. Surface temperatures will likely remain 2 to 6 degrees lower than in the run up to the war. Average global temperatures this low have not been seen since the Ice Age. We estimate that up to 70% of the Earths stratospheric ozone layer has been destroyed allowing ultra violet light to penetrate the earth’s surface. This will kill much of the marine life that forms the basis of the food chain. Precipitation will diminish for five to ten years. Already widespread crop failures and famine are adding to the billions vaporized in the burning cities. Ruined economies need fixing. Stock markets have barely survived. We need to prepare ourselves to deal with these conditions.”

By 2022, communication networks were still spluttering in revival requiring patience, unseen since the speed of a thriving Internet in 2015.

Guy was adjusting the dials of their homemade transistor radio, trying to find more news. Straining to hear with the crackle he heard, “We continue with our coverage of the plight in China where millions have succumb to the smog and ashes from the eruption of Mt. Mayon in the Philippines.” A noise like a train going through the apartment interrupted reception, and then, “After these first three years we can see signs of the ozone layer renewing itself.”

He looked at Fran with a smile of hope. An invisible hand was at work.

Days turned into months, becoming years, slipping by.

Fran and Guy joined the Emergency Response team as volunteers. Collectively they mothballed, oil refineries, closed oil wells, fracking and coal mining operations. There was a well of experience in Alberta that helped achieved these tasks. The landscape awaited a fresh start.

Healthcare was a shambles. A shortage of medicines, the loss of hospitals and personnel needed restoring. Volunteers stepped up to help. The Emergency Response team adopted triage procedures. Radiation effected the human body in many ways; weakened thyroids, the immune, stomach, heart and reproductive systems came under attack. In cases this resulted in hair loss, fatigue, cataracts and malignant tumors. World over it was like this, as radiation seeped into nooks an crannies.

The Response team was adept at fighting fire with fire, and with this in mind they developed a radiation therapy targeted to prevent further destruction of a persons body. Slowly, it began to work and more and more people lived for many years. Medications boosted immune systems and helped with heart failure. The strain of an overpopulated world had gone.

Lower temperatures and a steep drop in greenhouse gas emissions, compared to pre-war conditions caused a complete reversal of the threat of global warming. The Arctic’s circle of ice was restored to near pre-industrial revolution levels. Precipitation increased. Glaciers thickened, regaining their retreat.

In May of 2028, Fran and Guy heard from the head of the Response team, “What has happened over the last six years proves that in hard times people come together. By many accounts the earth has, at last turned a corner. We have learnt enormous lessons. There is still work to be done, and we have the opportunity to begin again, to remake everything for the better.”

The sun was shining and Fran looked to the heavens with mixed emotions. “We have so much to do bringing a new order to the way we do things, Guy. After thirteen years our future is brighter but what a price we paid for this.”

And most of all, there was hope.