Hope, Levy, Marc [good summer reads TXT] 📗
Book online «Hope, Levy, Marc [good summer reads TXT] 📗». Author Levy, Marc
“I need to show you something. Get in.”
Hope hesitated, shooting him a strange look. She slid into the passenger seat and suppressed a flash of surprise when he didn’t start the engine.
“Relax.” Luke looked at her. “I’m not going to drag you into the forest.”
“That hadn’t even crossed my mind. What’s going on?”
“I’m going to try and explain something to you.”
He started up the engine, and the Camaro whisked them out of town. As they drove deeper and deeper into the suburbs, Hope asked Luke where they were going. He hadn’t said a word since they set off, and he remained silent until finally they pulled into the parking lot at the gate in front of the Center, and got out of the Camaro. Hope looked at her phone, overwhelmed with the sudden urge to text Josh.
“There’s no reception . . . ,” she murmured.
“No, the building is fitted with jammers. No signal around the premises.”
“What the hell are we doing here, Luke? What’s with all the mystery? Where are we?”
“The future,” he replied, turning to look at her. “And the future can be a scary thing.”
“Why would it be scary?”
“Imagine if all the talented people that exist, researchers, doctors, artists, makers and creators, came together to make the world a better, brighter, fairer place. What would be the absolute number-one condition for making it happen?”
“I don’t know . . . Overcoming their fear of utopia?” Hope tried.
“No. The first thing to do would be to protect them, so they can get to work with no fear of any threat. Find them a place far from prying eyes, from political interests and bureaucracy, sheltering them from individual interests and lobbying groups and authorities with no interest in changing the world.”
“So this building . . .”
“That’s right. The Center is an independent space cut off from everything else, protected from the realities of the world today. None of the people who work here know if other centers might exist, and if they do, where they’re located. It’s all about the security.”
“Isn’t that a little over the top?”
“Coming up with innovative ideas is hard. And giving up when you grasp the scale of the work to be done is easy.” Luke shook his head. “Do you really believe that we’ve only just discovered the effects of global warming? The West has known about climate change for decades now. But money and profit mean humans have always found it easier to focus on their immediate interests, rather than the future.”
“That sounds a little cynical to me,” Hope responded. “There are a lot of good people out there doing good work to stop people with power from abusing it.”
“Let me tell you a little story,” Luke started. “Thirty years ago in my hometown, newborns started suffering from some kind of strange lung infection. Some of them died before their first birthday; others developed huge breathing problems. It looked like an epidemic was about to explode, and so the authorities called in one brave doctor from the countryside and tasked him with identifying the virus or bacteria that was infecting the babies. So the doctor got to work with the resources available to him. He looked everywhere, in the water, the milk, their food. He even tested their bottles, diapers, and clothes. One night, he was feeling hopeless. He stepped out onto the porch for a smoke, at the house the authorities had lent him. He had stopped smoking a long time ago, and his first drag on the cigarette made him cough and splutter. And it was that cigarette that set the wheels in motion. He bought a map of the neighborhood,” Luke continued. “And he began color-coding it: blue crosses on places that were home to sick babies, red crosses on places where the children had died. Soon, the crosses formed two circles, with the blue one larger than the red circle it contained.”
“What was in the middle?”
“A methane-extraction factory. They’d drilled down too deep, and carbon dioxide had seeped back up into the topsoil. There wasn’t enough of it to affect adults, but it was enough to create respiratory problems in babies.”
“Did they shut the factory down?” Hope pressed.
“Two days after the doctor identified the problem, his body was found floating in the river. The official line was that he was a big drinker and that he drowned during a drunken midnight swim. But it was December. The factory was the region’s economic powerhouse. It was especially important for the town. Most of the local families depended on it for their income. It would have been impossible to start a debate on transitioning to cleaner energy; there was no way anyone could ask these workers to accept losing their jobs. You see?” Luke glanced at Hope. “Identifying a problem is one thing. Solving it is a whole different ball game, especially when economic interests conflict. That’s why ideas for the future are all too often held back by present-day realities. Except here, in this building. Now, here are the questions that really matter: Do you want to come inside with me? Do you want to help build the future?”
“So this is where Josh goes at night? This is where you spend your time plotting?”
“There’s no plotting involved,” Luke said. “That’s a ridiculous way of seeing it.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Look,” Hope sighed. “I’m flattered you’re offering me the chance to join you, but I need to think things through first.”
“Because of your relationship?”
“I don’t know. Can you drive me back? This place freaks me out.”
“No,” Luke replied. “Not until I’ve given you a tour. I didn’t come all the way out here for a quick chat.” He pressed a button, and the gate slid open. “Once we get inside, don’t speak to anyone. Make a mental note of any questions you want to ask me, and wait to ask them until we leave.”
Hope couldn’t quite put a finger on what was holding her back. She was normally so curious, so open-minded. She
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