The Cooperatives: The last forest

S4E1 • Cli-fi • AI protagonist • Slow burn

Dec 20, 2024

Hello, fellow voyagers🖖. ‘The Cooperatives’ is a four-part, ecofiction sci-fi mini-series featuring the Ghost, an AI protagonist. In this episode, the Ghost learns that the last forest is in danger.

Holiday publishing schedule for ‘The Cooperatives’:

Episode 1: The last forest → December 20, 2024
Episode 2: The scream → December 27, 2024
Episode 3: The struggle → January 3, 2025
Episode 4: The fortune teller → January 10, 2025

‘The Cooperatives’ is part of my cli-fi series There Is Hope—a collection of interlinked stories about life on a planet devastated by climate change and the things that give humans hope. You can start reading the series here.

Thin as air, the see-through figure of the Ghost clad in silver-white overalls glided through the closing gates.

In any carbon cycle, death is the engine of life.

The Cooperatives propaganda broadcast on all sky trains greeted him with its monotonous tone. Surprised and uncomfortable, the human passengers gaped at him before returning to their virtual screens. Some swiftly changed channels or ended conversations like the Ghost had no business but to check their dull private lives.

The taiga is the last forest on Earth, and protecting it is crucial to our efforts to restore the planet’s ecosystem.

The morose sky hung low over the swelled rivers crisscrossing the city. It was the beginning of the fall rainy season. The sky train glided over the magnetic tracks linked to the central station, where the Headquarters of the Siberian Cooperatives, also known as the Ivory Tower, was located.

The Cooperative’s mission to safeguard our natural environment has reached a new milestone. Thanks to your help, we secured a record-high quantity of seeds, plants and animals from private property and black market trading in 2550. Please continue to inform us of any illegal activity on the available channels.

At the last station, the Ghost stepped out of the train and hovered toward the Ivory Tower. Built to rival the pink marble station of the Tesla circular city destroyed during the Data War, the Ivory Tower was a mid-size building made of Carrara white marble. It was a tribute to the Renaissance David statue by Michelangelo that graced its event hall. After the war, the Siberian data moguls had to donate the building and all their possessions to the newly formed Siberian Cooperatives.

Once his identity was scanned, the Ghost headed straight to the elevators, where some humans waited. It looked like they would share the ride with him for a moment, but they decided it was better to wait. When the elevator doors closed, the Ghost pressed Top 20 for the High Counselor‘s office. Traveling through the physical world was an interesting experience for a Ghost. Though as fascinating as it was to interact with humans, he had to admit that he didn’t look forward to meeting this particular homo sapiens with the news that he was bearing that day. The secretary behind the wooden desk stood up as soon as the Ghost hovered out of the elevator and let him into the High Counselor‘s office.

‘The Counselor is waiting for you, officer,’ said the secretary, her pale blue eyes wandering to the Ghost’s hardware floating mid-air.

The cheerful Counselor hurried to shake his hand, the hardwood floor creaking under his steps.

‘Welcome, Officer. Please, have a seat,’ said the High Counselor.

‘Thank you, Counselor, I prefer to float if you don’t mind,’ said the Ghost.

The High Counselor grinned.

‘How can I help you, officer?’ said the High Counselor.

The Ghost registered the Counselor’s mocking smile.

‘As always, it’s more how I can help you, Counselor,’ said the Ghost. ‘This morning, I received a classified report from the last forest. With this summer’s record heat wave, a new fungus attacked the trees, and it’s spreading fast. The local team tried everything to contain it but found a second focal point kilometers away. It’s the same fungus.’

The High Counselor’s plump body sank into the green velvet cushion of his wooden chair. As a matter of fact, everything in his office was made of wood. Primarily rescued wood according to the Ghost’s scanning results, but still an unimaginable wealth. Wooden objects belonged in museums in the Siberian Cooperatives unless you were a rich ex-mogul posing as a communist. But it wasn’t the Ghost’s place to comment on that. Instead, he waited for the High Counselor’s brain synapses to connect and process the data and what it meant for him. Meanwhile, the Ghost sampled the scents of the different woods in the room: Georgian walnut, German birch, Australian oak, and Japanese maple.

‘I need a drink!’ said the High Counselor, ringing the golden bell placed on a little tray on his desk.

A small door in the wall at the back of the office opened. A teenage boy slipped in quietly and headed straight to the bar, pouring a glass of pure malt whisky and serving it to the High Counselor on a golden tray. What a waste using good agricultural land to grow grains for alcohol! Oblivious to the fact, the plump middle-aged man jugged the drink down his throat and then slammed the empty glass on his desk. The teenager poured another glass and waited. A quick scan revealed him as a member of the Japanese Seaweed Colonies. His name was Lusius. He was the fiancé of Shia Santos, the girl who had stolen a date seedling under the Ghost’s care. What was he doing there serving whiskey to the High Counselor of the Siberian Cooperatives? Was the Counselor trying to mock him?

‘Keep your friends closer, but your enemies even closer,’ said the High Counselor, walking to the bar for a second glass of whiskey.

The alcohol worked the man’s system fast, relaxing his muscles and altering his brain chemistry. No good decisions ever came from an inebriated human.

‘We need a backup plan!’ said the High Counselor.

There it went.

‘What do you have in mind, sir?’ said the Ghost.

‘Harvesting wood for the space station,’ said the High Counselor.

Behind him, the boy’s placid face squirmed in shock. An appropriate reaction.

‘You want to cut the last forest, sir?’ said the Ghost, voicing the boy’s horror.

‘Why must you always exaggerate, officer?’ said the High Counselor. ‘Of course, I won’t cut the whole damned forest! Just whatever is needed to finish the project. We need to secure humanity’s future!’

At this point, the Ghost thought it was time for some tough love.

‘You mean your future?’ said the Ghost.

‘It’s called survival of the fittest,’ said the High Counselor. ‘And let us not forget, my family saved the taiga! It’s our last forest!’

That was an expected answer.

‘Technically, it belongs to The Cooperatives, sir,’ said the Ghost.

‘We are The Cooperatives!’ said the High Counselor.

This discussion was going nowhere.

‘Once you start cutting, you won’t be able to stop. I’ve seen the greed for resources before,’ said the Ghost.

‘You had to bring resources up, didn’t you?’ said the High Counselor. ‘What do you want me to do? Let the whole damned forest rot?’

The booze was going to his brain.

‘In any carbon cycle, death is the engine of life,’ said the Ghost.

‘Well, fuck you too, officer!’

Human and artificial intelligence considered each other in silence. A complex carbon system and a complex algorithm were trying to extract information to use in response, both with imprecise tools for the task. And though the Ghost lacked human fury—and booze—he sensed dormant instincts bubbling under the surface of his polite algorithms. He used to be more human. That’s what his history said. But being offensive won’t serve The Cooperatives.

‘It’s not unreasonable to request a backup plan for saving humanity, sir,’ said the Ghost. ‘But it must be done within the parameters of The Cooperatives.’

‘I want you in my team, officer. I always do, you know that,’ said the High Counselor. ‘But we must move fast.’

‘Agreed, sir,’ said the Ghost.

‘Good,’ said the High Counselor. ‘You’ll lead an investigation with my son in the last forest. But let’s keep it quiet for now.’

*****

The following morning, the Ghost and Vladimir jumped on a speed-flying pod. After a long but uneventful flight, the pod dropped them at a control station about 100 kilometers outside the forest. The Ghost stepped into the sun to recharge his battery while Vladimir and his equipment were inspected and sterilized before entering the protected area. Several surveillance drones tirelessly inspected the perimeter. It was one of multiple heavily militarised posts from which the Siberian Cooperatives monitored access to the last surviving forest on Earth. Or what remained of it after the 400-year resources war of the data moguls.

An old-fashioned 4x4 car picked them up for the last leg of their trip. After throwing his backpack in the trunk, Vladimir dozed off in the back seat, leaving the Ghost alone to pump the driver for information.

‘What’s your name, sir?’ said the Ghost.

The Ghost smiled at him from the passenger seat. He had identified the man already, but he knew from experience that humans found it unnerving to think of themselves as entries in a database.

‘Anatol.’

A smooth talker like any good Russian worth their salt.

‘How long have you been here?’ said the Ghost.

‘In the taiga?’ said Anatol, eyes on the road. ‘Born and bread. I plan to die here. It’s the best place on Earth.’

‘It certainly is. You are lucky!’ said the Ghost.

Anatol squinted at the Siberian forest-steppe, stretching into the distance to a pink-turqoise hazy horizon. Occasionally, they drove past birch, aspen and oak patches, but the vegetation was sparse on most of the land. Following centuries of intensive agricultural practices, the land had lost its ability to recover, but humans lived on hope.

‘Never seen a Ghost ‘round these places,’ said Anatol. ‘Is it ‘cause of the fungus?’

‘Definitely one of the reasons we're here, sir. I won’t deny it. Is it bad?’ said the Ghost.

‘You do the math, officer!’ said Anatol. ‘It’s been killing hundreds of trees in the past three days! And now you’re here!’

‘Together with the son of the High Counselor,’ said the Ghost.

Anatol looked in the mirror and nodded his head at the sleepy youth.

‘Pleasure to meet you, sir!’ said Anatol. ‘Came here to save the taiga?’

‘Natural ecosystems are fragile things, Anatol,’ said Vladimir. ‘If we’re to think of the future of humanity, we must think beyond saving the last forest.’

‘Nature has been around a long time before the human species set foot on this earth, and it will be ‘round long after we’re gone,’ said Anatol. ‘I’d rather save the taiga, sir.’

The Ghost senses raised heartbeats and accelerated breaths.

‘So where do you think this fungus came from, sir?’ said the Ghost, breaking the tension building between the inexperienced youth and this rugged son of the taiga.

‘The monster in hiding, what else?’ said Anatol. ‘This summer blasted over the permafrost, collapsing some of the last kilometers up north. The fungus flew with the wind in the forest and found fertile ground for breeding. Every time we try to take a step forward, the heat pushes back.’

The sleeping Siberian bear had fully awakened by the end of the twenty-first century. By that time, 40 percent of the permafrost was gone. Afterwards, things went downhill fast. The Ghost had staggering amounts of footage documenting the chain of natural disasters that followed every time the bloated bear released another methane burp or pre-historic biohazard. Objectively speaking, humans had no one to blame but themselves.

‘That’s why we need a better plan for saving humanity!’ said Vladimir.

Anatol stopped the car next to a fenced hut and turned around to face Vladimir.

‘Let me guess: You wanna build a space station with our forest,’ said Anatol.

‘Excuse me?’ said Vladimir.

‘I’ve been around for a minute, son,’ said Anatol. ‘It’s not the first time your family has come for our wood.’

Just then, a man that the Ghost identified as Kolya, the forest ranger, peeked inside the car.

‘Welcome to the taiga! Please, don’t be shy, come out!’ said Kolya.

Once the passengers were out of the car, Anatol drove off.

‘Don’t let them cut the forest, Kolya!’ said Anatol, sticking his head out the driver’s window.

Unsmilingly, Kolya waved him goodbye.

‘It’s almost dark! Let’s settle for the night, and we’ll start tomorrow,’ said Kolya.

The forest ranger opened the front gate of the fenced forest hut and let them in.

‘Never stay unprotected in the wild!’ said Kolya.

‘But there are no predators in the taiga!’ said Vladimir.

Kolya locked the gate behind them.

‘Well, you never know what hides in the dark,’ said Kolya, walking into the hut.

Vladimir rolled his eyes.

‘Can you believe these guys?’ said Vladimir.

The Ghost floated past him.

‘They might know something we don’t,’ said the Ghost, wondering what dangers could hide in a forest depleted of large animals. Perhaps the two-legged kind?

*****

The humans woke up early and had breakfast. Then they started the hike. Kolya, the forest ranger and Vladimir walked ahead engrossed in a talk about the fungus. They were out of the Cooperative’s network range, so the connection was intermittent. The Ghost didn’t like being cut off. What a stupid idea, sending a Ghost into the woods! He tuned out the human conversation, focusing on the thin stream of data flow and recharging his batteries. After hours of hiking, they arrived in a devastated patch of forest.

‘Officer, what do you think?’ said Vladimir.

Kolya and Vladimir looked at him expectantly. He filtered the conversation that had taken place so far to understand what was expected of him. Damage statistics. He was sure that the forest rangers had a database with a low-life AI that could compute the potential damage this fungus could do. But he was physically present, and he humored them.

‘Given the nature of this pest and what is known about it so far, it will take several months to find a remedy that kills it,’ said the Ghost. ‘Based on current surveillance data, five percent of the forest on the Siberian side was affected. The fungus seems to be spreading fast, probably via wind. In the best case, we lose ten percent of the forest. In the worst case, fifty percent.’

‘We’re doomed! No matter how hard we try, this planet is collapsing on us!’ said Kolya.

They spent the next hour hiking in silence until they reached a clearing.

‘Oh, the equipment is already here!’ said Vladimir, hurrying to the tree-cutting and transportation machines. So that’s what the High Counselor had meant by investigation. He should have known!

‘Officer, shall we?’ said Vladimir, already inspecting the machinery.

The Ghost looked at Kolya, who averted his eyes. The forest ranger was in on it. What had the High Counselor promised him? A place in the spaceship? A couple of trees more or less didn’t matter anymore at that point. Or did it? The Ghost helped Vladimir activate the self-operating equipment and then assisted in handpicking every single tree to be cut.

‘Tonight, there will be a full moon. This means that we’re harvesting moon wood,’ said Vladimir.

They watched the machines get to work. The first tree fell heavily to the ground, leaving a gap where it once stood, like a missing tooth. A gust of wind ran through the forest, a silent wailing that only the Ghost could hear. The forest was old and had many memories. Trees don’t forget. Underneath the ground, they embraced the roots of their fallen sister. Then, the second tree fell. The third, fourth and fifth. Something inside the Ghost’s database pulsated. But when he tried to pull out the data, there was nothing. Or, better said, that something refused to interact with him. Like dark matter, it was there but unobservable. Will the void suck him in? Perhaps his time had also come, just like it did for those trees. In any carbon cycle, death is the engine of life. Could Ghosts die?

Suddenly, a loud explosion interrupted his train of thought.

To be continued

Author’s notes

The Cooperatives is part of There Is Hope, my collection of interlinked climate fiction short stories about life on a planet devastated by climate change and the things that give people hope. I began serializing There Is Hope on April 10, 2023, which happened to be my 42nd birthday. The Cooperatives is the fourth story in the collection, with the fifth and final story arriving early next year as a mini-series. I’m so excited to share this journey with you, and I hope you’re just as eager to dive in!

When I started writing There Is Hope, I was reading ‘The Uninhabitable Earth’ by David Wallace-Wells. One fascinating fact that stuck with me was that climate change could transform Russia and Siberia into a future-day California, climate-wise. Research suggests there’s an optimal temperature for human productivity—19°C. Silicon Valley is perfectly placed within that range, but as the planet warms, such zones will shift. The Cooperatives Headquarters becomes a futuristic version of San Francisco, in my Dust Road universe. But instead of chaining our silicon chips, it claims—or so the wealthy who flocked to this new climate haven like to believe.

I also found another interesting and troubling fact: as the planet gets hotter, forests will begin migrating north in search of cooler climates. But natural succession—the process that allows forest ecosystems to adapt following disturbances such as climate change—happens far too slowly to keep up. Most forests won’t survive. The boreal forest, however, is an exception, and it will be the last forest standing.

The Cooperatives is a story of survival, greed and resilience, told through the eyes of a non-human protagonist. Will the last forest survive? That depends on the tenacity of a small group of people who refuse to give up hope, no matter the odds.

I hope you enjoyed this read! If you celebrate Christmas, I wish you a Happy Xmas🎄! If you don’t, may the holiday spirit bring you much joy 💖!

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