Seventh 2 Survive (WAYHAUGHT)

33-18.3.4

"I can't do this," Waverly said. "How can a few words change what's already been done? We're a long, long way past talking."

Nicole came to sit beside her. "Before I returned for you..." She hesitated, carefully weighing her own words. "Before I returned, the great sacrifice had begun. It's wrong, I know that now. We don't deserve to survive if we resort to killing so many. This cannot be the answer."

Waverly paused to remember what Nicole had told her. "But, you were for it, weren't you?"

"I assumed it was the only way. Correction, I was led to believe it was the only way. And, I was willing to die if it offered us the smallest chance of surviving what we faced. That's before I knew we might have a chance at rebuilding the world. Building back better."

"But, my words mean nothing. It doesn't matter who I am to your people, whether I'm the so-called face of Religime. How can I say anything that will make a difference? Seriously, it's pointless standing in front of anyone when the planet is already this fucked."

"You're right. We should never have returned. This isn't your fight anymore."

"No, I mean, it isn't. Look, I just think." Waverly let out a long sigh. "I just think, this calls for a bit more thought. Find out what's been said previously. I don't know. Oh, oh Greta Thunberg. She was quite vocal on this stuff. Where's the internet when you need it?"

"Err, we might have it," Nicole replied. "An old version of it. Mostly data storage."

Waverly stood. "Where do I access it?"

"It might not be reliable."

Waverly snorted. "Like, when was it ever."

"Xav has an old console we can use."

"Come on, let's go check out what happened to Twitter."

"Twitter?"

"I so miss Twitter."

Xavier was busy dealing with a new influx of refugees to their hideout. Nicole had watched the constant stream of dome workers arriving, knowing the resources they had were fast running out. There appeared to be no effort being made to restart the failing domes. Workers were being let go, left to fend for themselves, most dying. Without these workers any hope of producing more beans was doomed. The question haunting everyone, everyone that is who could see their numbers swelling daily, was why? Why was this being allowed to happen? Why were his people being marched out to their deaths?

Waverly stared blankly at the monitor, a technology too advanced for her 21st century brain. Nicole deftly navigated her way through the various screens. "Musk Archives holds most of the data dumps," she informed, after several moments. "Haven't accessed many of them, so some of the libraries might be empty."

"I need to find the speeches of Greta Thunberg," Waverly instructed. "If you show me how to search on this thing."

Nicole tilted her head.

"Where's the friggin' search bar?"

Nicole's head tilted a little more.

Waverly huffed. "Find anything written about climate change in my era."

Nicole began typing, a list of articles scrolling down the page, the titles of only a few intelligible to Waverly. She huffed again. About to give up, one title caught her attention: 2050 – The Fight for Earth.

The first paragraph explained how women would mostly bear the burden of climate change, given gender inequalities. As primary caregivers, and as providers of food and fuel, women would be in a more vulnerable position, and would be the majority of those displaced by climate change.