long way to go yet. It’s no magic fix. There are not enough sites and not enough space. I guess you know that anyway. You’re a scientist.”
“Me?” Harry laughed. “I’m no scientist. I thought calculus was the gunk dentists scrape off teeth!”
Andy laughed as Harry continued, “My degree’s in Political Science. What I know about this can be written on the head of a pin. Doesn’t the coal come up and the carbon dioxide go down?”
“Are you buying lunch?” Andy laughed. He took Harry by the arm and guided him from the foyer down a corridor. “We can use the cafeteria in Discovery. Synergy Café; acceptable food, decent wine.”
He steered Harry towards a double doorway, allowing him to enter first. Joining Andy in the queue, Harry took a tray and perused the offerings. He chose beef roast with baked vegetables, and yes, he would like gravy on his meat and on his ‘veggies’. Andy also chose roast and vegetables, so their passage through to the cashier took only a minute. Harry had not yet changed his US dollars, so he offered an American fifty.
Allowing herself the slightest of glances to see who had passed the foreign currency, she deftly made change in multi-coloured Australian notes and coins.
Harry was impressed and turned his approving expression to Andy, who laughed, while placing plates, cutlery and rolls on the one tray.
“We’re used to absent-minded Americans here.” He pointed to the bar. “Get a bottle while I grab a table.”
The room was filling quickly. Andy did not wait for an answer and hurried towards his target, a table for two by the atrium window with a view over the garden.
Harry was soon back with an ice bucket. “I hope this is OK,” he said, offering the label. “Traminer. It was recommended.”
“Yes, indeed!” exclaimed Andy, clearly delighted at the choice of wine. Too expensive for him to have chosen for himself. “Very nice.”
He took the bottle and poured two generous glasses, tasting his before picking up his cutlery. “Get stuck in and I’ll begin,” he said, spearing a generous portion of beef with his fork, cutting it off and immediately transferring it to his mouth.
“You’re familiar with the periodic table, of course.” Andy was barely understandable with his accent and a mouth still half full.
“Well, yes,” Harry answered dubiously. “I think so, why?”
“Well, you remember the atomic weights of carbon and oxygen?”
“Oh!” answered Harry, wondering where this was leading. “I did know it once, sorry, can’t remember past hydrogen one.”
“OK,” laughed Andy. “It’s carbon six and oxygen eight, unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?”
“Yes, unfortunately. We take a ton of coal out of the seam. It’s about eighty percent carbon, so that combines with oxygen to form just under three tons of carbon dioxide. As a liquid, it is about the same volume as three tons of coal. So, you dig out one ton and have to find space to bury three. Are you with me?”
“Yes,” Harry laughed. “I guess so, go on.”
“Right,” Andy smiled, taking a swig of his wine, now nearing the end of his first glass. “Just as well, or we might as well go straight to the sticky date pudding and talk about Gridiron.”
“No,” Harry encouraged. “No, I really am interested.” He paused in his eating and held Andy’s gaze to stress his interest.
“Part of the system works. We’re pumping liquid CO2 into depleted oil wells. Th
at works, but it also pushes more oil out. Enough said, but the big one is sequestration in other structures that are not necessarily liquid sealable. Still with me?”
Harry nodded his affirmative.
“Now, that makes it potentially able to store about thirty percent of carbon dioxide produced. That’s if we can keep it as a liquid, so,” he grimaced, “it can never be the complete answer. And,” he added, “so few sites are suitable, we’re looking at less than twenty percent.”
“So why pursue it?”
“Depends on what you want out of it, I guess.”
“What do you want?”
“Me?” he laughed. “I’d like to dump the whole stupid idea, but we’re being directed to reach targets our minister has announced. Political targets. Twenty percent reduction by whatever year our masters think keeps the electorate happy. Nothing to do with reality, you know!”
“Obviously,” Harry agreed. “But with the UN talking zero emissions, why aren’t you researching that?”
“Nobody here’s working on zero emissions. If we include leakage from coal seam gas wells, emissions are rising and will continue to rise. While we burn coal and oil, we can never reach zero emissions and to abandon those two babies is politically untenable. Only the Greens are talking zero emissions.”
“Why? The technology’s there, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” he answered. “But there’s no money. Look! We’re being directed here to make the old fuels clean. Money being invested in renewables has been withdrawn, so we do what we are paid to do…flog dead horses!” He took another sip of his Riesling.
“There will always be leakage, so if and when we eventually decide to go for zero emissions, it’ll no longer be an option. In the long term, we can’t stop it escaping. There’s only one way to go. Straight to nuclear and/or renewables now, but don’t quote me.”
“Why not?”
The answer came in his expression, but he said, “Look mate, if you hang around the unemployment office you’ll find plenty of people there asking those sorts of questions.”
He took another swig of wine, looked around to check their privacy, then continued, “It gets worse. There are vent sites. If those vent sites pass through ground water, there’ll be acidification, and the same goes with soils, so yes, it’s a serious complication, but like everyone else around here, if I start talking about that, I’ll be looking for another job.”
Harry wondered what the official position was. “Andy, what’s the department saying about this?”
“Th e department! We had a great department head named Bob Bouffler. Great guy and straight but he’s gone and now we have this pansy who wouldn’t know his arse from his elbow!” He laughed. “But he does know where to lick!”
“What happened to Bouffler? Resign?”
“Mate,” he answered. “Nobody knows, or nobody’s saying. He just disappeared and the word is it’s unhealthy to ask. OK?”
All the food had disappeared with most of the bottle of wine. Harry was aware his friend had said too much for his own good, the wine fuelling his resentment.
“Thanks for that Andy,” he said softly. “What
