CHAPTER THREE
DEPARTMENT OF
EARTH, ATMOSPHERIC AND PLANETARY SCIENCES
MASSACHUSETTS INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY
GREEN BUILDING
77 MASSACHUSETTS AVENUE
CAMBRIDGE
NEXT DAY
CARSON HUNTER WAS IN A QUANDARY. He suspected his students were planning something they weren’t sharing with him. That was apparent when they didn’t tell him why they were still in the classroom, and they had been whispering to each other ever since. They seemed determined to prevent him from overhearing them. It was odd because he knew how much they liked and admired him. Carson ran a hand through his hair and propped his Chelsea boots on his desk. His blue shirt and jeans made his blue eyes seem even bluer. A deep tan and wrinkles around his eyes reflected years of scuba diving mainly in South America and made him appear older than his actual age of 41.
The walls in his office were covered with photos of coral reefs and maps of countries with shorelines conducive to diving. There was a small certificate displaying his Harvard PhD in Earth Sciences below one of the maps along with framed awards in serious need of dusting. A tall corn plant standing in a corner leaned toward the sunlit window. The sill held a tea rose begonia in a ceramic pot. Its sweet scent filled the air. A basketball hoop was attached to the door, and a basketball was balanced on top of his desk. He had gotten through his undergrad years with the help of a basketball scholarship. The 25-pound dog of unknown lineage lying on a round cushion next to it was chewing on a bone. It had floppy ears, a big white spot circling one eye and was otherwise as black as tar.
Tuyen Lee tapped on the door frame and entered the room. “Got a sec?” She was holding the Boston Globe in one hand and her phone in the other. A slim Korean with her hair in a braid that hung to her waist, she wore a bright orange tunic top over tan pants.
“Stay,” Carson ordered. The dog didn’t move a muscle. Carson tossed him a treat. He dropped the bone and gobbled it up.
“Have you seen this?” Tuyen asked. She held out the paper and pointed to an article as she handed it to him. GAS UTILITY COMPANY EMBARRASSED, the title read. It had a photo front and center of the banner Vicki had placed on top of their office building and one below it one of Vicki speaking about pipelines.
Carson nodded and tapped the photo. “Who is this woman? She sure is stretching the limits.”
“I gather she works part time and spends her spare time fighting pipeline construction. From the photo, I’d say she’s a stunner. I checked her story on my phone. She was notorious for occupying a tree in West Virginia for two weeks and was arrested when she came down.”
“Presumably an anti-pipeline protest?”
“Yes.”
“Great. We really need fanatics destroying our reputation as objective. Zealots aren’t the answer even if it’s true that people who consider gas a worthy bridge until there’s enough renewable energy online are dead wrong.” He picked up the basketball, leaned slightly forward and threw it straight through the hoop. That’s the route to ruinous climate change. Oblivion, in fact. But you know that.”
“I do indeed,” Tuyen said.
“We’re being lumped in with law-breaking activists, and damn it, that’s just adding to the current distrust of scientists.”
When Tuyen left, he sighed and went back to wondering what his students were up to. It did occur to him that Vicki’s focus on methane was important. Still, he wasn’t about to cut her any slack. Definitely not.