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Beatrice looked at her watch and, realising the time, crossed the bridge to the Blue Zone, swigging her can on the way. Surprisingly nice, she thought to herself...

After getting through security, she looked at the floorplan Wemyss had given her, and strode towards the hall where the Sustainable Publishing event was due to be held. She spotted Wemyss at the front of the hall talking to three other white men in blue suits. She sighed.

'Ah, Beatrice dear,' welcomed Wemyss. 'Please meet the other speakers. Just like you, they've come especially for the event. Gentlemen, I'm sure you've heard of Beatrice Deft.' The three men nodded in synchrony. 'Beatrice, here is Ken Welsh, Knox Wellington and Kristoph Wald.'

Beatrice looked briefly across all four men. 'Hi,' she said, 'I'm not very good with names, excuse me if I forget who's who.'

A crowd was gathering in the hall, with their conversation muffled by masks. 'Shall we, gentlemen?' Wemyss gestured towards the stage.

***

Caspian took a final glance at the map, and headed towards the security control centre.

***

Beatrice could feel irritation rising. Apart from not being able to tell the four men apart physically, their words were the same old BLAH BLAH BLAH.

'Ks, this isn't good enough. In fact, this is the reverse. All you're talking about is commissioning a few authors, some vague commitments to net zero at some point in the future, a bit of carbon offsetting... This is greenwashing!'

'But Beatrice...' interrupted Wemyss.

Beatrice continued talking, refusing to give way to the four men. 'Look, I believe in the power of books to change lives as much as everyone here. But bookism is not enough, faced with climate emergency! I am as guilty as the rest of you, I admit - but at this time of climate breakdown we can't sustain our carbon-fuelled lifestyle, particularly of the international book fair circuit!

'We must do more! We must consume less! We must act now! I have seen the impact of climate change ravaging my own country: bushfires devastating vast swathes of land... I've seen the sky turn orange then red, ash raining down... I had a narrow escape myself, at the end of 2019... But our animals - koalas, wombats, kangaroos - our plants... our ecosystems... We MUST DO MORE! We must have an ACTUAL PLAN!'

Beatrice found herself rising to her feet, and punching the air in her distress. Half the audience joined her, roused by her passion, cheering her words...

WOOOOOOOOoooooooooWOOOOOOOOOoooooooooWOOOOOOOOOoooooooooWOOOOOOOOooooooooo

A high-pitched sound cut across her words. The audience started to raise their hands to cover their ears, as an accented voice crackled into the auditorium:

ZHIS IS AN EMERGENCY! ZHE BLUE ZONE MUST BE EVACUATED IMMEDIATELY! PLEASE TAKE ZHE NEAREST EXIST AND ASSEMBLE AT ZHE CRANE!! EVACUATE!!!

The rest of the audience stood up, looking around them for zhe nearest exit. The manellists followed the audience's cue, rapidly stuffing papers back into their document wallets and hurrying down the steps from the platform.

Only Beatrice remained in place, casting her eye around the hall, the sound of the voice still ringing in her ears as the siren continued. Could it be...?

She picked up her bag, and joined the crowd filing out of zhe nearest exit.

The COP26 Kabuff: A Beatrice Deft ShortWhere stories live. Discover now