...And We Will Have Snow

Chapter 12: The Climate Model

Dema could hardly believe it was still their first day at the Institute. Or 'on the island' as the residents would say. She felt like she was already intimate with everyone. When she looked at Cern and Kore, she could sense that they felt the same way. In fact, she could tell that, like her, they already felt that they belonged here. There was little doubt that they would stay. Everyone else was climbing the stairs to the second floor landing and the sleeping quarters that were distributed around the perimeter of the building. She followed, feeling more ready for a night of rest with each step.

Everyone but Ray, Dema realized. She looked back and saw him walking down the hall to his computer lab. For a moment she imagined that he was going to spend the night figuring out how to probe the plenum with his quantum link. Then she reconsidered and decided he was probably just going to turn off the equipment before following the rest of them to bed. She thought no more of it until morning.

At breakfast Karen was cooking eggs. Kore, who was there before Dema, said, "There are chickens on the island! Karen collects their eggs!"

"Chickens? On Coon Island?"

Karen laughed and said, "There aren't that many coons. The hens range free, and I know where they lay. So do the coons, but I generally get there first. The coons prefer crabs and mussels so they're often down waiting for the tide. How do you like your eggs?"

Dema pitched in and scrambled some for herself and Cern. Soon it looked like just about everyone had arrived. The kitchen activity reminded Dema of home, very random but somehow self-choreographing. Fortunately the kitchen was large enough to accommodate the entire group, who seemed to have spontaneously scheduled their arrivals in a spectrum between those who favored being early and making their own to those who preferred to wait and scrounge for leftovers. She looked around and said, "Where's Ray?"

Cheryl answered, "In the lab."

"Already?"

"He's been there all night."

Dema detected a bit of petulance. "Does he do that often?"

Cheryl sighed. "It's a programmer thing. He can't resist a challenge."

"Do you mean he's seriously trying to access the plenum?"

"I don't really know. He mumbled something about the quantum foam not being random, whatever that means."

"You talked to him about it?"

"I just told him he should come have some breakfast. I didn't actually have his attention."

"So we should leave him alone?"

She nodded. "Unless he doesn't take a break for days. When he's done he'll come out and tell everyone. Whether you want to know or not."

Dema looked around. There were other nodding heads and small smiles, mixed with looks of mild concern. Apparently this was normal behavior. For a programmer.

Dema couldn't let go of Cheryl's evident disappointment at Ray's absence. She asked, "Do you work closely with Ray on the climate models?"

Cheryl nodded. "We're making pretty good progress on incorporating the ocean currents."

"Are those as insanely complicated as modeling the atmospheric variations?"

Cheryl looked directly at Dema for the first time. "I'm glad you don't think it's easy. Most people start with the attitude of, 'How hard can it be? It's just air blowing around a ball, right?' They get lost about three sentences into heat and pressure and the Coriolis effect. Mention ocean currents and they go, 'Oh, you mean the Gulf Stream,' or 'Oh, you mean El Niño,' as if that explains everything."

Dema put on a look of mock astonishment and said, "You mean it doesn't?"

Cheryl looked at her aghast for a second, until Dema dropped the look and arched an eyebrow. Then she started laughing.

When she got it under control, she said, "Thanks, I needed that. But you know, it does begin to explain a lot of things that atmospheric study alone would never predict. People hear about El Niño and they think it's all about explaining a drought in California or something. But it's part of a much larger cycle of ocean current and temperature variations that reach all the way up to the Bering Sea."

"That's up by Alaska, right?"

Cheryl nodded. "And a rise in the surface temperature there influences the Arctic Ocean, and the Arctic sea ice cover, and the rate of sea water evaporation, which leads to more snow inland, which reflects more sunlight back into space, which leads to colder winters."

"Wait a minute. Warmer water in the Arctic leads to colder winters?"

"Well, obviously what I just said is an oversimplification. I should be ashamed of myself, because that's what the crazies do. But it's a great example of how counter-intuitive these climate effects can be."

"But you're serious. Open water in the Artic can mean colder winters in Canada."

"Not just Canada." Cheryl looked straight at Dema. "You're from Chicago, right? You know about the lakes freezing." She meant the Great Lakes. Dema nodded.

"When does the snow come, before or after the lakes freeze?"

"Before. It's the water..." Dema stopped. "You're telling me it's the same thing!"

"Not exactly the same, no. But the same underlying effect. When the water is frozen, the polar winds are dry, no new snow, glaciers get thinner. When the water is open, that's when the snow comes, and the glaciers get thick again."

Dema looked around the kitchen until she spotted her sister. "Kore!" She yelled. "Go home and sell the house! Right now!"

Cheryl broke up laughing again.