the hologram
Hong Kong
2019, Junior, Creative Writing
The ship stops as the rescuer looks around in confusion. He glances at his map, then looks at his GPS. It has a green light on, but he can only see the sparkling water for miles. Have I been on the ship for too long? He rubs his eyes and squints, but still sees nothing. The ship circles around once more, and he spots something shimmering in the water: a hologram, anchored in the shallow sand, reflecting a dark, wrinkled face staring off into the distance. He retrieves it and sets it on the deck. The hologram begins to play.
If you’re watching this right now, don’t come looking for us. It’s too late. The date is April 27, 2097. We’re on Keryn Island, one of the last remaining islands in Polynesia, but we won’t be here much longer. It’s been seven months since the rest of our community was evacuated to mainland Australia. I and three other elders stayed behind due to the lack of space on the ship. We’ve been waiting for a rescue, but it doesn’t seem likely. This hologram shows what our island is going through. We’re surviving off the green energy the community built and using the sea as a resource. We built break-waters to keep out the rising water, but in the end, it only slowed the process. Just a month ago, we stopped growing crops because the water rose too much and ruined them. 20 years ago, our island had ten kilometers that weren’t underwater. Now, we’ve been completely submerged. The saltwater seeped into our last rice paddy, and we’ve survived off our reserve of food, but the supply’s running dangerously low. There’s no escaping it: this is it. In less than a week, this island will be uninhabitable, and we, the four elders, will drift away.
It wasn’t always like this. We had a chance until 2030 when I was still a young boy. There was a climate summit, where the nations of the world banded together to hold this apocalypse back. I thought the bigger nations would finally step up and help the world. So even though our elders at the time were skeptical, our small island did what we could: we completely cut carbon emissions, we converted to solar and wind power, and we built hydro turbines around the island to harness tidal energy. But in the end, it did nothing. The big countries failed us; they betrayed us in saying that they would try. China, the U.S., and other major countries made no effort to cut their emissions. Nothing changed for them, no repercussions, no backlash, no consequence. For us, the Pacific Island nations, it was a turning point. Our nation originally had seven islands: the main one, where I am now, and six outlying smaller atolls that surrounded us in an arc. I would canoe from one to another, playing with friends and fishing.
But one by one, the islands were engulfed by the effects of climate change. Emissions from larger countries continued to melt the glaciers and ice caps, which in turn increased the rate of sea level rise. For the larger nations, there was minimal impact. In America, the Disney World in Orlando flooded multiple times, resulting in Mickey losing his shoe. In China, a wealthy businessman’s green Lamborghini got washed out to sea during a freak storm. But for us, the consequences were less amusing and much more serious. We could do nothing but watch helplessly as the atolls slowly disappeared underwater. The elders called a nationwide emergency as everyone searched for solutions to slow down this process. We did everything we could. Finally, ten years ago, the world realized the dire situation we were trapped in. Major countries declared an international emergency, banning non-green energy. By this time, our nation had lost all the atolls but the main island. If only the big countries had acted earlier! This wouldn’t be happening.
The rescuer thinks back to the day the UN called an international emergency. He had been a reckless teenager then, still using a petrol car. He remembers his reason for that: just to rebel against his parents. He now realizes the stupidity of his actions, as a wave of guilt washes over him. Fittingly, the elder now takes on an accusing tone.
But it’s always been like this. The smaller nations do everything we can while the big countries don’t. In the end, who gets the consequences? Us, of course. It’s much too late for us now, but some of our neighboring island nations haven’t completely submerged yet. So this is our dying wish: if you are listening to this message right now, please do anything you can to help evacuate people from remaining island nations, like Fiji and Tahiti. On a global scale, we have already failed island nations worldwide, but it may not be too late to slow climate change in other countries. There is still time.
***
A week later, this hologram has been aired on national television in Australia, the United States, and China. However, as scientists work against the clock to slow down the rising sea levels, they all come to the conclusion that it is too late. There is nothing they can do to mitigate the rise any further.
The rescuer has evacuated three island nations and is working to reach more when he hears the news. Nevertheless, the elder’s dying wish to evacuate other nations motivates him to find as many islands as he can.
***
In the midst of the hurricane, the rescuer gropes for the hologram as the wind gets fiercer and the rain hammers down intensely. The technology is old, but it still works. He holds it up and continues the recording.
Is this thing on? It’s May 25, 2147. Fifty years ago, after years of research, scientists concluded there was nothing that could be done to fight climate change. The major countries went back to doing absolutely nothing, resulting in climate change devastating Earth. Rising sea levels claimed half of Brisbane. The city was evacuated five years ago. Electricity stopped a year ago. Food is going to run out in a few days. The ocean has risen so high that all islands are underwater. Freak storms are now commonplace, resulting in the destruction of coastline and crop failure. TV and Internet went down months ago. I still have a radio that keeps me up to date with happenings around the world, but the news is all the same: chaos everywhere. These riots aren’t only due to lack of food, but also to infrastructure and refugee problems. Europe is bankrupt. The U.S. doesn’t have a standing army anymore—the government shut down two years ago. It’s unlikely they will ever come out of this state. Two decades ago, investigators found North Korea completely empty, their leader and people all starved to death. When an earthquake hit there, a nuclear bomb detonated. Survivors still suffer from severe radiation poisoning. The global population is decreasing rapidly, and the UN is now obsolete. I’m in the biggest hurricane on record so far. It’s unlikely that…
The rescuer looks up, interrupted by the howling wind. The sky is now pitch black, though it’s only noon. The rain slams into the roof and pours through the cracks of the windows while water slowly seeps in under the front door. He sighs in resignation. If only the world had acted earlier…
Reflection
I wrote this story because I think that my generation is the last generation that could actually make a difference in the environment, and I hope to inspire others to take action. My story depicts a dystopian world where global warming has affected the world in unpredicted ways. The scary part about the story is that this dystopia could come true in less than 100 years. For the sake of my generation and the generations to come, I want to encourage as many people as I can to take care of our environment. On a more cynical note, this dystopia is likely to come true, and I would like to think of my story as a warning to the global population so that no one is surprised once climate change starts to ruin our world more than it already has.