With the room cleared, Tamanna spoke one word. “Nishat.” Finger in the air as her device buzzed, she thought back on one of Her Excellency’s strategies. Find a project engineer, a Canadian, and one with our voice. She watched Vince move to the window, as Nishat answered.
As he looked out, the light middle of the night bridge traffic flowed across. Tami had first told him of her vision of a game changer global discussion. The Bangladeshi canary would screech from its coal mine, she had said, no longer signaling via sacrificial death. And no more farce negotiations, dominated by the historical essence of colonialism.
The truth was really starting to sink into him. The numbers were always plain enough, but he actually got it now. Not just in his head, but in his gut, even in his heart. Acceptance, Tami had said. The Canadian lifestyle, his lifestyle, that was the real carbon dumping issue. A deep dragging guilt swirled into his tumultuous feelings heap. His own time in the candy store had left the shelves bare for Annalise. So what about her and the other kids? How does he pay back?
Along with these Africans and their kids, his daughter loses. Will the Martian kid get the spotlight? Annalise gets to pay for that party, for his party…unless he gets this right.
He had told Tami of southern Alberta tradition, the pioneer focus on rebuilding after the first flood, little change after the second flood eight years later, in spite of triple Calgary over-the-dam flow rates. Prioritize repairs, build bigger berms, dig a diversion channel around the town of High River. And then the third flood, yet even after a downtown underwater for a month, many argued normal forces of nature. Her stories of Bay of Bengal cousins resonated with similarity, just other waters forcing other peoples from their homes. All effects of this mutual problem.
He’d listened intrigued to the story line of Her Excellency’s shopping trip for a fall guy. Final selection came down to Canada and Russia, Tami said, Nishat’s primary candidates. A proposition arose—why not bring a new guy on stage, how about an easier pickings bad guy? Calgary came up, his city noted famous for the largest carbon footprint per citizen among Canadian cities. That kind of free advertising helped, along with global media attention focused on Alberta tar sands. Nishat had called for a scapegoat, and now that goat was here, entangled. Negotiating, that could be his new career—his oilfield enthusiasm long drifted away anyway. But under the eco-terrorist label, no doubt.