“Yes, I am. I can’t see any other possibility.”
“Thank you, Dr. Peterson,” I said. “I know that you have another appointment uptown at Columbia, so we won’t detain you any further. Given the conditions outside, it may take you a while to get there. I can have a government SUV take you there, but you may do better to take the subway. Thank you for coming in. I’m sure I’ll be calling on you in the future.”
Chapter 9
Ellen, Sarah, and I remained seated after Peterson left. I walked over to the window. It was 6:15 p.m. Hard to believe it was still summer, and sundown wouldn’t happen for another couple of hours at 8:23 p.m., making it broad daylight outside. The street looked like a down comforter, perfectly smooth except for slight bumps. Under the bumps were cars, busses, and trucks. The atmosphere is my office was hot and sticky. Understandably, the HVAC system went batshit with the sudden change from heat and humidity to bitter cold. Yesterday the system was calling for cool dry air. Now it demands heat.
“So, what do we think about this guy, Peterson?” I said. “Is he the real deal, and if so should we pay much attention to him? He doesn’t have any specific answers, only theories.”
“I have a hard time taking this guy seriously,” Ellen said. “We’re faced with a weird situation and what does he come up with? A bizarre theory that the climate has suddenly changed. But it’s a smart move. He knows that the best way to get rebooked on my show, as well as a lot of other talk shows, is to come up with something controversial, something juicy, almost like the script for a TV crime drama. I think that’s why he asked to meet with you and Sarah. He wants to build up the suspense. Before we left the set to come here, he made it a point to let me know that he would be in town for a few days, staying at his brother’s apartment here in Manhattan. I’ve seen a lot of academic types like him. Once they get a taste of celebrity status, they want to keep it going. This guy is one sharp operator. Let me suggest this. I’d like to get Al Roker, the NBC meteorologist, on the phone. Al isn’t just a TV weatherman who knows how to point to stuff on a weather map. He’s studied his field and has become a real meteorologist. He works as a TV weatherman because he couldn’t turn down the huge salary we pay him.”
“Go for it, hon.” I said. “Let’s hope he’s still there.”
“NBC, how may I direct your call?” said the operator.
“Hi Janet, this is Ellen Bellamy. Please put me through to Al Roker if he’s still there.”
“He’s still here, Ellen. Like most of us, he’s camping out in the studio tonight.”
“Sunshine and flowers Roker here. What’s up Ellen?”
“You saw my show with that climate expert professor Peterson, Al. I’m here at FBI Headquarters downtown where Peterson asked to be taken after the show. To get right to the point, Al, this guy Peterson has come up with a theory that this crazy weather event may be caused by a sudden acceleration of climate change. I’m here with my husband, Rick, whom you’ve met before, and Sarah Watson, Director of the FBI. We’d like your opinion on Peterson’s theory that the climate has changed overnight.”
“As a plot for a science fiction novel it’s a great idea,” Roker said, “but the effect of climate change on the immediate weather is minimal. We’ve tried over the years to change the weather conditions. We’ve even tried seeding clouds with chemicals to fight droughts, but with little success. My opinion is that the weird weather we find ourselves in is the result of phenomena that we haven’t discovered yet. I know that may not be a satisfying answer but it’s the truth. We just don’t know yet what’s caused this crap. Peterson’s ideas may be good for exciting television, but as scientific theory I wouldn’t pay attention to it unless he comes forward with some evidence. Hey, I’m due to be on the air with a special additional segment of my show. Because of the circumstances I’ll be doing the show live, not taped. Make sure you guys catch it. I’ll be breaking some wild new weather news.”
“Al, thank you for your input,” Ellen said. “I’m sure Rick and Director Watson may want to talk to you further if anything becomes of this.”
“Sarah, your thoughts?” I said.
“I’m inclined to agree with Ellen, especially after hearing Al Roker’s comments. Peterson was too smooth, and hatched a bunch of ideas out of the air with no evidence whatsoever. I don’t think we should allocate a lot of resources based on Peterson’s ideas.”
“Well, it looks like we have a unanimous opinion about Professor Peterson,” I said. “But we shouldn’t dismiss him so fast. Sarah, when you were my boss at the FBI, you taught me the value of talking to apparent nut-jobs just to see what they had to say. Maybe we should see more of Peterson on TV talking about his theory. Ellen, would you consider having him back on your show?”
“I’ll bet you anything that my producers are already planning another show with Peterson,” Ellen said. “I don’t get to veto what the producers want, and they want exciting television, as Al Roker put it. Let’s catch Al’s weather report.”
Chapter 10
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, Al Roker here. The blizzard continues on this strange day of July 17. Ever since I’ve been reporting the weather over the years, I always begin my report by announcing any upcoming changes in a current weather pattern. I expected to do that this evening, but I can’t. Look at this radar image, and you’ll see what I’m talking about. We’re stuck in a gigantic snowstorm that shows no signs of ending. That’s right, I can’t predict when this monster is going to roll over and die. It just keeps pounding us across most of the nation and the world. The only thing I can predict, based on our estimate of three inches an hour, is that we’ll see over eight feet of snow by midnight at our reporting station in Central Park. The accumulation for Eastern Long Island, with its additional moisture off the ocean, is even more dramatic. We expect to see 10 feet of snow based on the weather station at Long Island-MacArthur Airport in Islip. History is being made as I speak, and we hope that this history will soon be behind us, but that I can’t predict.”
Roker walked over to a new graphic.
“Here are some of the shocking accumulation predictions for the next few hours at some of our major reporting stations. The numbers I’m about to give you are for midnight, Eastern Time, about five and a half hours from now:
Hartford, Connecticut – 11 Feet
Boston, Massachusetts – 12 Feet
Newport, Rhode Island – 10 Feet
Newark, New Jersey – 9 Feet
Islip, New York – 10 Feet
The camera panned to the street outside the studio where Janet Bowden, a reporter, stood in the swirling snow. She was dressed for the arctic.
“Hi, everybody, Janet Bowden here for NBC. Underneath this beautiful snow mountain behind me is a Mr. Softee ice cream truck. One of the few positive things about this blizzard is that it we’ve gotten a break from the mind-numbing jingles the truck plays constantly. An interesting thing about this rapidly accumulating snow is that it’s becoming difficult to tell if there’s anything under the drifts, although we know that there are countless cars, trucks, and busses under the white stuff.”
“Thanks, Janet,” Roker said. “The bottom line, folks, is that we will see an accumulation of snow above 10 feet throughout the region. The thing to keep in mind is this—we don’t see any end to this storm. Needless to say, the blizzard is creating some dangerous, even life-threatening conditions. I’m cutting now to City Hall, where Mayor Bill Adams is about to make a statement.”