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The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [0]

By Root 560 0
For my mother, Eunice Falconer Mosher, who inspired in me the love of words.

Table of Contents


Cover Page

Dedication

Map

Prologue Earth 21st Century—The Past

The Present Gaela

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Earth

Chapter 4

Gaela

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Earth and Gaela

Chapter 12

Gaela

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Gaela and earth

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Earth

Chapter 21

Earth and Gaela

Chapter 22

References

Acknowledgments

About The Author

Other Books By

Copyright

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

EARTH 21ST CENTURY—THE PAST


When JARROD came online, the planet was on the verge of environmental collapse. Calculated from infinite variables in mirror realities, he saw the options as simple—either raise the consciousness of the global community so a unified intention would restore nature to a fecund state, or develop further technologies that would, in survival-of-the-fittest fashion, support the continued existence of a select few. ASSIST scientists voted for the latter; the JARROD did not. The intensity of their debate introduced new sensations to the quantum sentient, emotions he’d never previously experienced in his conversations with Janis and Luka—frustration, anger and, strangely, fear.

‘Can’t you see the limitations of your choices?’ JARROD questioned them, scanning the boardroom. He would have pounded the table with fists if he could. The looks he received were blasé, masks concealing boredom, indifference or perhaps weariness in the face of insurmountable challenge.

‘JARROD,’ Dr Macquarie answered, his lip curling, ‘your outbursts aren’t helping us reach a solution.’

Macquarie had been chief of the board of directors at ASSIST, the Allied States Stanford Institute of Science and Technology, for nine years now. He treated the quantum sentient as if he were simply another piece of hardware—not a distinct consciousness with insights and perspectives that might supersede his own. He tolerated the JARROD, barely, and his contempt was not well disguised today.

‘You aren’t listening, Dr Macquarie. Can you open your mind? If you keep going with this line of thinking, nature will deteriorate until the vast diversity of flora and fauna will be reduced to simple life forms. Do you understand what that means?’

‘How simple?’ a scientist from the back corner asked, raising her hand as she did so.

JARROD felt a beam of hope. ‘They would include blue-green algae, phytoplankton, primitive bacteria and, of course, viruses of all kinds, especially virulent strains.’ He paused to gauge the response. ‘Nature as you know her will die—; simple as that.’

‘Rubbish,’ Macquarie mumbled as he flipped through his statistics screen.

‘You do realise what I mean by nature, don’t you, Dr Macquarie? Mother Earth?’

‘Speculation.’ He waved at the monitor, dismissing the JARROD along with his theory. ‘The research clearly shows…’

‘What it shows,’ JARROD cut in, ‘is that manipulating these gene pools in ways that you propose can easily backfire, catastrophically. The destruction has already begun.’

Macquarie took a sip of water and placed the glass carefully on the coaster in front of him, turning it so it sat square in the middle. He focused on the half-empty glass and finally shook his head. ‘The seas will be dead inside of this century no matter what we do. There’s no risk either way.’

‘There are other options.’

‘The flagella will solve the immediate problem. They’ll counter the overgrowth of toxic algae and generate more oxygen for the biosphere.’

‘Those single-celled SWAT flagella will cause more damage than the prolonged algal bloom, and you know it. You’ve seen the projections. They’ll be out of control within the decade.’

‘Only if we lose all solar radiance.’

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Macquarie, just say it: if we block out too much of the sun! And that will happen when you initiate your ozone repair protocol. You can’t launch a fleet of solar shields over every hole

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