"Good evening, Doctor." The moderator's smooth voice overlaid the imaging. "I believe you were able to hear the comments made by the Argentine Minister of Trade here in our New York studios about his nation's program for Antarctic development. Do you have any response to them?"
"Yes I do, Mr. Douglas," she replied. "With all due respect to Mr. Anaya, Argentina's plans for Antarctic development are a prescription for almost certain ecological disaster."
The Argentine shook his head impatiently. "That is the same hackneyed phrase we have heard from environmental extremists for decades. I can assure you that Argentina intends to make the protection of the Antarctic environment one of its primary concerns. In recent years, given the proper safeguards, industrial development has taken place in numerous ecologically sensitive areas without causing undue harm. Antarctica is no different."
"No, sir! This is not the case. It's true that over the past decade global industry has made vast strides in developing ecologically protective procedures and technologies. However, much of this development is simply not applicable to the Antarctic environment. There, you are dealing literally with another world, one as alien to terrestrial norms as something orbiting in another star system.
"The Antarctic ecology is unique. It's vast in extent, sophisticated in its dynamics, and yet basically simple in structure. This simplicity renders it perilously fragile."
"How is that so, Doctor? Could you elaborate?" the moderator inquired.
"There isn't a great degree of multiple redundancy available within the biosphere."
"Multiple redundancy?"
"Yes," Dr. Towers explained patiently. "Allow me to state an example. Around the turn of the last century, the wolf was all but wiped out within the confines of the continental United States. The elimination of such a key predator from within an ecosystem could have caused a serious dysfunction. However, the hardier, more survivable coyote moved in and took over most of the wolf's niche. The system was able to adapt and self-repair.
"This critical kind of diversity is lacking in the Antarctic. In many instances, you have only one specific species filling one specific slot in the food chain. Do something to impact that one species and the entire system could crash.
"That's why the Antarctic is such an all-or-nothing proposition. The southern continent and its surrounding waters must be kept intact and pristine. As I said before, anything less is a prescription for ecological disaster."
"Come now, Doctor. Even if other nations choose to exercise their sovereignty in the Antarctic and elect to develop its resources, how much of the continent will be involved? Five percent, ten?"
"Mr. Anaya, how big does a cancer have to be to kill its host?"
"Those are strong words, Doctor." The moderator smoothly intervened before Anaya could initiate a heated reply. "Back here at home, however, we are hearing some other strong words. People are expressing concern as Argentina and the United States appear to be edging closer to open warfare over the Antarctic question. While not yet confirmed by the Pentagon, there are reports that at least one military engagement has been fought in the South Atlantic. In all probability, there will be more.
"The question is, is it really worth it? Are polar bears and penguins worth the potential loss of human life?"
Dr. Towers smiled quietly and removed her glasses.
"There are no polar bears in the Antarctic, Mr. Douglas. I am a scientist, and the study of ethics and social morality isn't really my field. My stock-in-trade is the accumulation of factual information.
"I can tell you this. The Antarctic seas pour millions of tons of protein into the global biosphere yearly. Disrupt that flow, and you will disrupt oceanic ecosystems all over the globe. Antarctica is also the premier weather generator of the planet. Disrupt its climate, and you disrupt the climate of every other continent as well.
"I can tell you one other thing. The cold polar environment greatly slows the natural processes the Earth uses to repair ecological damage. Whatever mistakes we make in the Antarctic today, the human race will have to live with for the next thousand years."
27
The hours just past midnight were a favorite time for Amanda to prowl the Duke's passageways and compartments. It wasn't an inspection in the classic sense, but more a chance to attune herself to her ship's state.
She moved quietly through the dim, red, night lighting, extending a hand out occasionally to a bulkhead to catch herself against the destroyer's pitch and roll and stopping now and again to listen to the whisper of air through a duct, or to feel the faint vibration of a pump. Once, she paused near the partially open door of a berthing bay to listen to the low murmur of conversation coming from within. It wasn't eavesdropping; she had no interest in the contents of the conversation, just in its tone. Angry? Uneasy? Confident?
A burst of bantering laughter came from the darkness. Amanda smiled and moved on.
She exchanged a few words with the duty security patrol and the junior officer of the deck as they made their rounds. She hit the CIC to check on the latest weather states and intelligence updates, then went down two decks to Main Engineering for a look at the fuel-consumption projections.
Under normal conditions, that would have been enough of an early-A.M. walk-around. She would have dropped by the galley to sample tomorrow morning's batch of cinnamon rolls, then turned in for another couple of hours' sleep before rising again to be on the bridge at first light.
Not this night, however.
"Good morning, Terrel."
The Corpsman striker who had the night watch in sick bay scrambled to his feet from behind the desk in the small office/examination room.
"As you were," Amanda said quietly. "I just came down to see how your patient was doing."
"Yes, ma'am. Pretty much no change. Chief Robinson is concerned about fluid buildup around his lungs, so we're keeping an eye on that. He threw a fever spike earlier in the evening, but it seems to be coming down now."
"Thanks, Terrel. Carry on."
Erikson's medical file was sitting out on the corner of the desk. She picked it up, flipped it open, and began to study the latest entries and evaluations.
"Begging your pardon, Captain," the striker asked hesitantly, "but are you going to be here for a couple of minutes?"
"I imagine so. Why?"
"I just finished the sick-bay supply inventory, and we're short on a couple of things. I've got orders from the Chief not to leave Erikson alone, but if you were going to be around for a while, ma'am, I could make a run down to the medical-stores room and get us restocked."
"That'll be fine. Go ahead."
The striker departed on his task. Amanda returned the file to the desk and stepped across to the entrance of the ward bay. Pushing aside the curtain, she peered in.
She didn't like hospitals, especially in the still, close hours of darkness. Such places reminded her of the night she lost a large part of her family.
It had been an automobile accident. Amanda's mother and eight-year-old younger brother had been driving in to Norfolk to pick her up after an evening dance class. A drunken driver had crossed over the road's centerline and had hit them head-on. Despite the best efforts of the trauma teams, they had died the same night, within two hours of each other.
Her father had been in the western Pacific when it had happened. It would be almost two days before he would be able to get home. Amanda had been fourteen years old and alone. The hospital staff had tried to get her to leave, but she had refused. She had been at each of their bedsides at the end, because that was where she needed to be.