Bear
Most of the UK’s good arable land was flooded by sea water in the megastorms of the 2050s and then the jetstream finally collapsed for good in 2076. Britain was more underwater than Holland and colder than Norway.
Most people left. Another nation in migration. They tried to do the virtual country thing for a few years but they were broke before the environment humbled them, so they mostly just integrated where they could just like everyone else. A few people stayed. They mostly starved, or froze, or ate each other. It’s classified as wilderness now. Maybe a couple of thousand people left. Lots of beavers though.
We’d been given a report of a polar bear. All we really had was some pixelated agrisat imagery of deer and fish kills. We’d nearly lost all the bears when the ice started getting really thin in the 2030s but with the AMOC collapse their numbers had recovered significantly. Bears in the UK was definitely something my boss was interested in.
Which is how I found myself in an ice trench staring down the telescopic of a high powered rifle at a magnificent white bear about 400m away. The bear was enjoying a rather large salmon. I’ve never tasted salmon. I had a mackerel once, from a tin. The rifle's scope was linked to a data recorder with a high definition display. I played back the recording looking for anything like a tracking collar or a brand on the animal. Nothing. This was a healthy wild animal. Probably drifted here on a fragment of icepack. I sent the drone out to drop a tag on it. We now had 6 bears in Scotland. Almost a breeding population.
My head was pinned in the scope watching the bear finish his fish when I started to get the feeling I was being watched. Not a nice feeling. I was starting to fear I’d been flanked by another bear when the kid hit me in the head with his stick.
“Don’t hurt the bear” he yelled and hit me again. He was a scruffy little thing, dressed in surplus and deer skins, but his teeth looked ok and he could talk. Not the worst I’ve seen by a long shot. I showed him the video screen, he told me his grandparents had a better one although he was entranced by recordings. I asked him about bears and he told me they saw loads but never hunted them. I gave him an energy bar, he told me roast deer tasted better. He stole my gloves and I never saw him again.
My boss was elated. She had a drone station installed and a bunch of remote sensing so they could monitor the bears and the people in a scientific way. Non interference was the mantra back then. A couple of seasons after that, there were several families of cubs born.
Or that’s what I heard, by then, I’d moved onto Walrusses.
July 26
Most people left. Another nation in migration. They tried to do the virtual country thing for a few years but they were broke before the environment humbled them, so they mostly just integrated where they could just like everyone else. A few people stayed. They mostly starved, or froze, or ate each other. It’s classified as wilderness now. Maybe a couple of thousand people left. Lots of beavers though.
We’d been given a report of a polar bear. All we really had was some pixelated agrisat imagery of deer and fish kills. We’d nearly lost all the bears when the ice started getting really thin in the 2030s but with the AMOC collapse their numbers had recovered significantly. Bears in the UK was definitely something my boss was interested in.
Which is how I found myself in an ice trench staring down the telescopic of a high powered rifle at a magnificent white bear about 400m away. The bear was enjoying a rather large salmon. I’ve never tasted salmon. I had a mackerel once, from a tin. The rifle's scope was linked to a data recorder with a high definition display. I played back the recording looking for anything like a tracking collar or a brand on the animal. Nothing. This was a healthy wild animal. Probably drifted here on a fragment of icepack. I sent the drone out to drop a tag on it. We now had 6 bears in Scotland. Almost a breeding population.
My head was pinned in the scope watching the bear finish his fish when I started to get the feeling I was being watched. Not a nice feeling. I was starting to fear I’d been flanked by another bear when the kid hit me in the head with his stick.
“Don’t hurt the bear” he yelled and hit me again. He was a scruffy little thing, dressed in surplus and deer skins, but his teeth looked ok and he could talk. Not the worst I’ve seen by a long shot. I showed him the video screen, he told me his grandparents had a better one although he was entranced by recordings. I asked him about bears and he told me they saw loads but never hunted them. I gave him an energy bar, he told me roast deer tasted better. He stole my gloves and I never saw him again.
My boss was elated. She had a drone station installed and a bunch of remote sensing so they could monitor the bears and the people in a scientific way. Non interference was the mantra back then. A couple of seasons after that, there were several families of cubs born.
Or that’s what I heard, by then, I’d moved onto Walrusses.
July 26
