State of Fear

The latter half of “Akamai” extends the global scope presented at the beginning of the novel, moving from Iceland to Los Angeles to Vancouver. It also starts to connect the dots between the varied locales and characters. Marisa mysteriously reappears, for instance, this time in Los Angeles rather than Paris, attempting (and failing) to use the same modus operandi to ensnare Morton that previously led to Jonathan’s death.

These chapters also draw on foreshadowing to add to the network of clues. For example, lightning, which strikes Nat dead, becomes as a recurring motif connected to ELF’s terroristic activities. His observation that a “big storm was moving in” (109) shortly before he dies is both a metaphor for the terroristic threats and a literal description of their methods, which include artificially seeded lightning. Likewise, Morton’s brief disappearance without a trace foreshadows his faking of his own death and eventual miraculous reappearance.

Yet the novel’s pace also slows slightly, giving more space to discuss ideas on climate change. The first shock related to these ideas comes in the argument Drake has with the scientist in Iceland. In terms of the novel’s plot and characterization, Drake’s insistence that the scientist finagle the results of his research to make it appear as though they support the validity of global warming (when he asserts they show the contrary) is amplified later as unabashedly bending the truth to hold up an agenda trumpeting climate change. This sharply contrasts with Einarsson, who insists, “My concern is to report the truth as best I can” (44). 

However, the novel is subtle in presenting its dominant claim that global warming, at least how it is presented in popular consciousness, does not exist. State of Fear does not declare this perhaps shocking claim. Instead, in “Akamai,” Drake expresses an opinion likely shared by many readers: Global warming is certain, is caused by human action, and must be constantly guarded against powerful forces of industry that seek to downplay or deny it. Readers begin by empathizing with Drake, Evans, and others who share these views. Thus, when the novel begins to unravel them and present a contrary perspective, readers may be more sympathetic to it.

Another example of this technique is evident in Evans’ conversation with the group researching public perceptions of global warming. This group is part of the Vanutu litigation team, who seem to be on the side of global warming. Yet this same group plants the seeds of doubt about climate change in Evans’ mind, when they produce graphs showing that warming is neither consistent nor global, and assert that challenges to the Vanutu lawsuit “are significant” and “the supporting science is weak” (93). By having objections to the reality of global warming come from the mouth of experts on climate science, State of Fear introduces both a sense of mystery about what to believe and lends authority to the characters who begin to shift their own beliefs in the veracity of global warming. 

These chapters introduce another of the novel’s key themes: the role of the media in shaping ideas about climate science and global warming. This is established, for instance, in the buzz surrounding the conference on climate change that NERF is organizing. It is also suggested in Balder’s assertion that people are used to seeing climate change presented in terms of global catastrophes (and thus, to win the Vanutu case, juries will need to see evidence that touches them on an emotional level). When readers are put in Evans’ shoes as he is questioned by the research term, they see that he is confused by the array of graphs he is shown. Even when the scientific evidence conveyed via the graphs dispels commonplace notions about global warming, Evans has a hard time letting go of them—such is the sway of the media’s portrayal of climate, State of Fear implies.