Free Glass Sky by Niko Perren Page B

disk array proposal sounds like a mess. Yet another example of the Climate Council’s incompetence.”
    “But we do need sunlight control,” said Tania.
    “Desperately,” said Ruth. “But as part of a comprehensive longterm strategy… I heard you stood up to the Council. Did they really want to use UNBio’s preserve budget to pay for the construction?” She looked at Tania questioningly.
    “I can’t comment,” said Tania.
    Ruth shrugged and spun the wheel. Tapped the brake. “Bike’s ready.”
    Tania rolled the bike to the front door. “How did you get involved, Ruth?”
    Ruth sank into the couch. “I’m a psychological engineer. But I couldn’t find a job when I graduated because I refused to manipulate kids. That’s where all the money is. Get your memes into a five-year-old and you’ve got a lifelong convert. Doesn’t matter if it’s religion or hamburgers.” She gulped her wine. “So I traveled. I was in Belize when the ice shelf collapsed. I realized that everyone I’d met there would lose their homes, and that the beautiful marshes along the coast would vanish. They can build a levee around London or Miami, but they’re not going to do it for Belize. A veil lifted. I found my calling.”
    Tania touched the gorilla coin in her pocket. “What team do you play for?”
    Ruth hesitated. “I’d better not say.”
    “Come on,” said Tania. “We’re on the same side, right? That’s why you made that lame excuse to come here. What’s the big secret?”
    “Green Army,” said Ruth.
    “Green Army?” Tania jumped up as if she’d been stung. “Are you crazy?” She glanced out of the window. “Do you have any idea how it would look if I were caught talking to you?”
    “Why do you think I stayed in the back yard?”
    “I’m sorry.” Tania pointed at the door. “I had a great time. But you need to leave.”
    Wine spattered as Ruth slammed her glass on the table. “So it’s OK to deal with corrupt political leaders who undermine everything we’re trying to accomplish, but it’s not OK to talk to me?”
    “Green Army goes too far. You blow up coal plants. You sabotage equipment.”
    “And UNBio doesn’t go far enough,” snapped Ruth. She glared at Tania. “It’s only by pushing the boundaries that we make room in the middle. Green Army may be on the wrong side of the law sometimes. But that’s only because the laws are written by the people we are fighting against. We’re never on the wrong side of morality. And we never hurt anybody. Never. Can you say that about the people you spent the weekend with?”
    Tania bit back a gasp. Does Ruth know about Jim Wong? No. How could she? But the words hit hard. This isn’t Earthsayer anymore. This isn’t a tidy consulting contract, greening urban areas that have committed to reinventing themselves. Khan Tengri’s brought me into a war. And a lot of it will be fought online, with words. I need to choose my allies wisely.
    “I’m sorry, Ruth. I can’t afford the risk.”
    Ruth looked at Tania, as if understanding much more than Tania would have liked. She shrugged, reached into her pocket, and produced a business card. “If you change your mind,” she said, dropping the card on the table by the door. “Call me some time. I enjoyed hanging out with you.”
    The door thudded shut. Tania picked up the crisp plastic card. “Ruth.” No last name. No email. Just a phone number.
    Unpacking wasn’t nearly as much fun alone.
     
    ***
     
    Tania pedaled up the final switchback to the front gates of the UNBio campus, a collection of sand-colored buildings perched on a flat hilltop overlooking the city. The sun had risen over the prairies, bathing the rocky fingers of the Flatirons in pink, and turning Boulder’s solar-paneled roofs to polished gold. She locked her bike, savored a breath of mountain air, then stepped through glass doors marked “UNBio International Headquarters.” Halfway across the lobby a hawknosed woman rose to