purpose of the Environator was to monitor the environmental conditions of the earth. It could give early warning of natural disasters such as hurricanes, tsunamis or floods. The Global Environator was controlled by a supercomputer that was fed data by satellites orbiting in space, and weather stations from Arkansas to Antarctica, from Berlin to Beijing, and from Cuba to Cairo contributed to this great project. The international network of collaboration extended to zoologists counting elephants in Africa, entomologists looking for new insect species in the deepest jungle of the Amazon, and marine scientists measuring the pollution levels of the Red Sea. The great computer used all of this data to keep track of the state of the planet.
The supercomputer was so enormously intelligent that it had a personality all of its own. Not only could it figure out almost anything, and find solutions to the most complex of problems, but it also communicated to Sabatina by speech. The only problem was that its grammar circuits were a bit neglected: it muddled the plural with the singular, and jumbled grammatical rules of various languages to create a language all of its own. The result was that when it talked, it didn’t sound very clever at all.
Professor Sabatina was employed by an organisation called United Surveillance, better known as US. It was an international network of scientists that combined their efforts to monitor the planet’s ecology. The Global Environator on Monpetit Island was one of their most important projects. Guarding the earth was a very demanding job, and on top of this, Sabatina also had to look after her children. She had also been part of the team that had built the Environator years before. She had named the computer controlling it Max, in memory of a faithful German shepherd she’d had as a child.
She enjoyed gliding her seat around the magnificent hologram of the earth, discussing the weather with Max as if he was a close friend and colleague (which he was, in a way, because she spent more time with him than with anyone else.) She especially loved to watch the huge sea currents draw patterns on the surface of the oceans, even if she was irritated by the signs of environmental damage by a growing human population. The rain forests were shrinking rapidly and the cities were expanding, creeping like a rash across the surface of the beautiful planet.
Now, as she pushed her nose closer to the spot that had caught her attention on the surface of the South Pacific Ocean, a frown creased her brow. She pressed a dial on the keyboard and with an electronic “beep”, a datascriber popped up in front of her. A 3D image displayed current information about temperatures and wind speeds in the area.
“It all seems normal enough, but still …” Sabatina mumbled to herself, gliding towards a spot a little bit further to the south. Something there was definitely not as it should be.
“What’s going on, Max?” she asked.
“Ah, we be talking. I thoughts you would never asks!” the metallic voice of Max answered grumpily.
“We really should do something about your grammar circuits, Max. You have some of the most advanced artificial intelligence in the world, but you sound like an idiot. But it seems we don’t have time for that today.”
Sabatina ignored the long sigh that escaped from Max’s speakers, which were concealed somewhere in the roof above her head. It was followed by what sounded like the squeaking of a poorly oiled bicycle, and then a drawn-out “twang”, as if a rusty spring had been released somewhere in his intricate machinery.
“Stop fooling around, Max! There’s no time for theatrics today. Get on with it! What’s happening between 20° and 30° south, just east of the Pitcairn Islands?” Sabatina’s eyes were focused on the spot, the silver frame of her spectacles sliding down to the tip of her nose. “It looks as if there’s an unnatural disturbance in the ocean, and an unusual low-pressure system is building up in the atmosphere. What on earth is happening there?”
“Aha, so you be not just asleeps! You notices!” Max’s circuits were well versed in sarcasm, and now it was the professor’s turn to heave a long sigh. Max could be grumpy. Maybe one day, when she got around to it, she could reprogramme him to be a little bit more cheerful and optimistic.
The hologram was now displaying an image of seawater slowly churning in the South Pacific Ocean. A darker spot developed, with a circle of white foam swirling in its centre.
Suddenly a red light on the wall of the laboratory began to blink, and an alarm buzzed. Another holographic image popped up. Sabatina sighed again – this was no time for a virtual visit from her boss!
Mr Amsterdam reclined comfortably in an overstuffed chair as he floated at a slightly lopsided angle, about two metres above the floor of the laboratory. His image was slightly out of focus – it looked transparent and grey, and flickered occasionally as if he was about to burst like a bubble of soap. Sabatina knew that in real life he also looked sickly, and that the bluish tint to his long face was probably caused by smoking too many cigars and never sleeping for more than two hours at a stretch.
Even as a hologram, the director of US was not a welcome visitor to her laboratory: he was forever meddling, and Sabatina was annoyed to be interrupted in her work.
Wringing his pale fingers on his lap, he spoke with a frog-like voice. “Professor, there’s some form of havoc in the ocean somewhere to the West of South America. I presume you’ve a report ready on this, and I would like to know why you are not keeping US informed.”
Sabatina’s nostrils flared slightly. “Max and I have noticed the disturbance. It only started two minutes and fourteen seconds ago – a bit early to expect a full report, don’t you think? But as you are here, I can already tell you that the disturbance appears to be originating from the sea floor itself, and it is causing high-frequency waves to pulse towards the surface.” She tapped a few keys on the datascriber to produce some intricate graphs. “See for yourself. It doesn’t have the characteristics of an ordinary earthquake. Max is monitoring weather patterns as we speak, and we’re also trying to ascertain if there is stratospheric turbulence caused by these abnormal oceanic conditions.”
“Trying to?” Mr Amsterdam asked dourly. “With all of the equipment at your disposal, you should already have all the facts!”
From his speakers in the roof Max gave a soft snort, while silently feeding more information to the datascriber’s screen.
Sabatina continued to talk as she read from the screen. “Have you received any reports of distress signals from sea traffic? Luckily there are very view ships in the vicinity, but shouldn’t you be tending to that rather than disturbing our work?” She turned in her seat to fix an icy stare on the snail-like old man. Her eyes were an unusual shade of blue, almost purple, and although she had perfected the art of that cold stare, she had little hope that it would have an effect on the shaky hologram of her boss.
Mr Amsterdam lifted one corner of his long upper lip in a sneer. Then, with a short electronic snap, his image vaporised and vanished.
“Well!” Sabatina said in exasperation. “So much for formalities! Really, Max, the society magazines need to come up with a new etiquette for virtual visits. Not even a ‘Goodbye, dear lady, and good luck with your relentless efforts to solve yet another environmental mystery!’ Well, at least we’ve got rid of him.” She turned back to her work. “So, what else can you tell me?”
The computer remained silent for a while, as if in deep thought, and Sabatina could feel her stomach tightening – the great supercomputer never hesitated like that. With her long fingers, Sabatina nervously ruffled the spikes of her snow-white hair.
“Max, the disturbance seems to be fading, and so is your attention,” she urged. “The data indicates that the shock waves,
