Termination Shock
by Neal Stephenson
William Morrow, 720 pp.
There is an old saying attributed to the Arabs: “It is unwise to summon that which you cannot dismiss.” The underlying philosophy is that we can conjure up mighty powers and processes to deal with any given situation, but in the event of unintended consequences (and the more complex the situation, the more certain such consequences are to occur) one needs to be able to discontinue said mighty powers at will and with a minimum of further disruption.
When it comes to the existential crisis of global warming, there are any number of wonks out there that propose various geoengineering “fixes” to reverse or at least slow the climate crises sparked by the increasing global temperatures. (There are still idiots out there who deny it’s happening in the first place, but let’s save discussing them until such time as Eric Trump writes a science fiction book). Some of the proposals include building hundreds of new nuclear fission plants (what could possibly go wrong?) to huge mirrors or panels orbiting the Earth blocking sunlight. Artificial photosynthesis is a hot item although a far better and cheaper alternative—natural photosynthesis—is available.
One such technological remedy is that of recreating the “Pinatubo effect.” Large volcanic eruptions can eject thousands of cubic miles of dust and sulfur into the stratosphere, creating a cooling effect that can last several years. Since Kurt Vonnegut’s Vice President in Charge of Volcanoes turned out to be no damn good at his job, relying on volcanoes to regulate our climate is a dodgy process. One volcano, Toba, erupted 74,000 years ago, eliminating summer for ten years and creating a fierce ice age that lasted a millennium and oh, by the way, nearly wiped us out.
“Zo,” the mad scientist with the inexplicable German accent declaims, “Ve most built ze ARTIFICIAL volcano! Vot could possibly happenk?”
OK, it sounds like the looniest approach yet, but in fact, it not only would work, but it’s technologically feasible, using technology available to us now.
It is this premise that underlies Termination Shock. A Texas billionaire, Teddy Roosevelt Schmidt (owner of TR McHooligan’s giant truck stops, home of Diesel, fresh fast food, and sanitary shits) discovers that relatively small amounts of sulfur, blasted into the stratosphere, can have a marked global cooling effect. To this end, he amasses a literal mountain of sulfur, and constructs a projectile device, firing from some 245 meters from below the desert floor to launch yard-wide “bullets” filled with molten sulfur, into said stratosphere. This gun has six barrels, enabling it to launch such a bullet every seven minutes. The project is dubbed Pina2bo. Yes, we have a Texas billionaire who is going to solve global warming with a six-shooter. Yee-haw!
But there’s a problem. This device doesn’t cool the globe evenly. More importantly, it doesn’t simply remove the patterns caused by global warming—it sets up an entire new family of weather patterns, much more quickly and severely than global warming. Even worse, if he suddenly stops shooting his gun, there may be a “snap-back” effect, aka termination shock, which could make matters worse than if he hadn’t started doing it in the first place. It is unwise to summon that which you cannot dismiss.
This is the same topic that was the basis for Kim Stanley Robinson’s Ministry of the Future, and it is written with the same level of scientific erudition and cognizance of the physical, political and cultural fallout attending a unilateral effort to change the weather. But where Robinson focuses upon (and sometimes bogs down in) process, Stephenson bases the development of his story on far more colorful and unpredictable human interactions.
Along with TR, you have Rufus, a Captain Ahab type who is seeking the giant feral swine who killed and ate his daughter. Again, this IS Texas. Another character is Frederika Mathilde Louisa Saskia, aka “Saskia.” When she isn’t flying planes, she’s the Queen of the Netherlands. She is making a quiet trip to Texas to meet with TR about Pina2bo. Her craft is diverted from Houston because it is too hot for planes to land or take off safely, and goes to a smaller and cooler airstrip. She and Rufus “meet cute” when her landing plane on final ploughs into a herd of panicked wild swine who are fleeing across the strip to escape Rufus. Considerable damage to plane and former swine, including Snout, the aforementioned daughter-eating boar. Then there is a Canadian Sikh named Jaks (not to be confused in any way with NDP leader Jagmeet Singh, also a Canadian Sikh). Jaks is a stick fighter who becomes a social media sensation as “Big Fish”, stick fighting Chinese along the high-altitude tenuous border known as “Line of Actual Control.” The Himalayas are NOT Texas, but nonetheless, the stories become intertwined, particularly when fears arise that TR’s little popgun might destroy the Punjab, India’s breadbasket.
Stephenson’s characters are always glowing, deep, three dimensional and real, and you often end up knowing them somewhat better than your own best friends. Add brilliant imagination, strong scientific acumen, and a wild sense of humor, and you have America’s finest science fiction writer.
Termination Shock will only add to that reputation.