A Midsummer's Equation

FOUR

A manager from DESMEC’s development division stood next and began to talk about their coming plans in detail. First, they would conduct a survey of the seabed to determine the amounts and densities of the various ores, as well as their metallic content. At the same time, they would be working on specific new technologies for extracting and removing the ores. There would be more investment into smelting technology as well, up until the point at which they were ready to assess the site for potential commercialization within a ten-year time frame.

Narumi felt somewhat relieved, if only because they were avoiding the kind of vague, saccharine promises they had heard too often. Things about “new industry lifting up the local economy.” To the contrary, the development manager’s talk made it clear there were still many unknowns, and they were proceeding with care.

Yet there was a magic to the words “undersea resources” that made people dream big, as if gold and silver really would come erupting out of the sea to shower the community with riches. To those primarily concerned with invigorating the local economy, it seemed like a godsend at a time when the town sorely needed one. Year by year, Hari Cove had been slowly falling apart. The tourism industry, their main source of income, had been in recession for some time and showed no signs of picking up.

Yet that didn’t mean they should give carte blanche to some unknown technology. Hari Cove lived and died by the ocean. And if that ocean wasn’t brimming with beauty and life, neither would the town. Sacrificing the ocean in order to save the town was a fool’s bargain.

Narumi realized early on there wasn’t much she could do about it all by herself, so she launched a blog, becoming the unofficial spokesperson for the sea near Hari Cove. One of the first people to e-mail her after the blog went up was Sawamura. He had been focusing on articles about natural preservation efforts in the area and had reached out to his environmentally minded friends. Save the Cove was their idea. Narumi had been invited along for the ride.

She had responded almost immediately. If anyone was doing something to save the cove, she wanted in.

So began long days of exchanging information and research. Sawamura sold his apartment in Tokyo and came back home so he could be on the front lines. Drawing on his connections, they found more people willing to help their efforts, but things really took off when their central message, that the mining would disrupt the cycle of life in the nearby ocean, struck a chord with the local fishermen. After that, the fishermen started showing up to meetings in larger and larger numbers.

Finally, the government took notice. METI directed the organizations involved with the mineral surveys to hold an informational hearing—a huge coup for the Save the Cove movement, and Narumi’s big chance. She could get the word out officially now.

Up on stage, the DESMEC engineers were still talking. They explained at length the measures they would take to protect the environment, but nothing passed the sniff test for Narumi. It took two hours before they were finished with their presentation, after which there was a Q and A.

Sawamura’s hand went up immediately. He took the mic that was passed to him and began to speak.

“As the name would suggest, hydrothermal ore deposits form around hydrothermal vents on the seabed. These vents have a very specific deep-sea ecology, providing a home for many species that do not, and cannot, live elsewhere. You spoke of trying to predict the effect of mining operations on these ecologies, but there’s nothing to predict. Everything living around these vents will die if you mine there. To put it in perspective, some of the creatures living in these environments take several years to grow to a size of only a dozen or so centimeters. But they only take an instant to kill. How will you protect them? If you have any ideas, I’d like to hear them.”

My thoughts exactly, thought Narumi.

The development manager stood to answer. “As you say, some damage to the life around the vents will be unavoidable. Uh, due to this, we’re proposing a genetic survey. That is, we will analyze the genetics of the organisms living near the vents to ascertain whether or not the same organisms live anywhere else on the seabed. If we find a species that does not exist elsewhere, then we will make preservation of that species a top priority. Exact methods will depend on the species in question, I should think.”

Sawamura held his mic back up. “In other words, if you find the same kind of organism living someplace else, you’re fine with killing the ones you find near the vent?”

The manager frowned and said, “Erm, essentially, yes, that’s right.”

Sawamura pressed on, relentless. “Can you really do a genetic survey of every single organism living in the area? There is a lot we don’t know about deep-sea ecologies. How will you know for sure what exists where? How do you propose to find everything?”

“Well, all I can say is that we’re prepared to do what we need to do to make it happen.”

“That’s not going to work,” interjected a new voice, joining the conversation. Everyone on stage tensed as they turned to look at the one who’d spoken. It was the physicist, Yukawa.

“Not even specialists in the field profess a full understanding of deep-sea life, so I don’t see how any of us can,” the physicist added. “If there’s something you’re not going to be able to do, you should just be honest and admit it.”

The development manager fell silent, a look of chagrin on his face. The emcee took a step toward the mic to say something, but Yukawa beat him to it. “What we have here is a very basic problem. The only way to make use of underground resources is to mine them, and if you mine them, they’re going to damage the local flora and fauna. That’s as true under the water as it is on land, but it hasn’t stopped us—that is, mankind—from doing it over and over again. That’s a fact. You just need to make a choice.” He put down his mic, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, oblivious to the stares of the entire room.

* * *

It was after four thirty when Narumi left the hall with Sawamura and the others.

“That went pretty much like we thought it would,” Sawamura said. “Though with less grandstanding than expected, thankfully.”

“I thought they were pretty transparent, considering,” Narumi agreed. “It sounds like they’re really just putting out feelers at this point—and at least they are considering some measures to protect the environment.”

“Don’t relax just yet. Once they get a whiff of the money to be made, they’re going to charge full speed ahead. Nothing’s going to stop them, certainly not concern for the environment. That’s the way it’s always been. Look at what happened with nuclear power in this country. We can’t let ourselves get tricked like that again.”

Narumi nodded. He was right, of course. The hearing had lulled her into a sense of accomplishment, but that was an illusion. The real work was only just beginning.

“I was surprised at the range of people they brought to the meeting. When that professor butted in, telling them they should just admit it when they couldn’t do something? That was impressive.”

“Him?” Sawamura frowned. “Bet you ten to one he’s a corporate shill. They put him up there to make them look like they’re not all about the money.”

“I don’t know, I thought his heart was in the right place, at least about not trying to pull the wool over our eyes. You never hear that kind of honesty from most officials or politicians.”

“Maybe,” Sawamura said with a shrug.

They left the community center and went their separate ways. “See you tonight,” Sawamura said as they left. They would gather again after dinner to prepare for tomorrow.

Narumi got on her bicycle, waved, and pedaled off. Past the station, she dismounted and began to walk. It was much easier pushing her bike up the long slope than trying to ride it.

A taxi passed her just as the Green Rock Inn came into view. She watched it pull up at the inn. That would be their one reservation, arriving for the night.

It wasn’t unusual for them to only have one reservation a night these days. Summer hadn’t brought an increase in guests. In fact, there were fewer each year, and not just at the Green Rock Inn. Several inns and other businesses serving the dwindling tourist industry had already gone belly up, and Narumi knew it was only a matter of time for the inn. They already couldn’t afford to hire any help except in the busiest months, and the only reason her parents were able to run the place by themselves the rest of the time was that there were so few guests. It had only gotten more difficult when Shigehiro hurt his knee.

The taxi passed her again on its way back down. She recognized the driver. He nodded as he passed—the kind of courtesy you only see in a small town.

She stepped inside the inn to find Setsuko greeting the newly arrived guest at the front counter. He was writing in the guest book. When he finished and turned around, Narumi was surprised to see he was the man she’d noticed at the hearing, the one wearing the open-collar shirt. He smiled warmly to her and nodded, almost as if he’d been expecting to see her here.

“I’ll show you to your room,” Setsuko said, key in hand as she stepped out from behind the counter. A small travel bag in one hand, the man followed her in silence.

After they were gone, Narumi went behind the counter and checked the guest book. The man’s name was Masatsugu Tsukahara. Not a name she recognized.

Maybe it’s nothing, she thought. He might have nodded to her at the hall because their eyes happened to meet, a friendly gesture of solidarity. But then she looked back at the guest book and frowned. The man had listed his address as being in Saitama Prefecture. Why would someone from north of Tokyo come all the way down here just to attend a hearing?

“Hey, Narumi, welcome back.” She looked up. It was Kyohei, looking out the door by the front counter.

“Hey. Were you down in the basement?”

“Yeah, with Uncle Shigehiro.”

She heard the sound of a cane striking the steps leading to the boiler room underneath the inn.

A few moments later, Shigehiro appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Oh, welcome back,” he said to her. “How was the hearing?”

“Good. I’m glad I went. There’s going to be a debate tomorrow—sorry I’ll be out again.”

“Not a problem,” her father replied. “You do what you need to do.”

“You’re protecting the environment, right?” Kyohei asked. “That’s cool.”

Narumi lifted an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Totally! So do you, like, get on a boat and ram whaling ships?”

“Hardly,” she said. “But what we do is very important. We’re trying to stop people from wrecking our ocean. If they start mining the seafloor, it might hurt the local fishermen.”

“Oh,” Kyohei said, clearly having no interest in anything that didn’t involve fierce battles on the high seas.

Setsuko returned and announced, “He says he’ll eat at seven.”

Narumi looked at the clock. It was almost five.

“Also, we had a last-minute reservation, a single,” Setsuko added. “The call came in right after you left, Narumi.”

Last-minute cancellations happened too often, but last-minute reservations were a new thing, Narumi thought, just as she heard the front door slide open behind her. “Hello?” said a familiar voice, and Narumi nearly jumped. She turned to see the physicist Yukawa standing in the doorway of the Green Rock Inn.