What if Vlad the Impaler ran The Ministry for the Future?
S1E1 | Saving the planet with the real Dracula
Hello, fellow voyagers🖖! In today’s edition Vlad the Impaler—a.k.a. Dracula—takes over The Ministry for the Future and comes up with a plan for saving the world.
The following is a true story though you may find it hard to believe.
Dear readers, I’m writing this newsletter from the dungeons of The Ministry for the Future. It’s winter and the stone walls of my cell are covered in ice. Occasionally, I stop scribbling to warm my fingers on a pale candle flame. I’ve used up my monthly electricity rations to recharge this laptop. I must hurry!
Let’s start with the most obvious question: What on Earth am I doing in the frozen dungeons of The Ministry for the Future?
It all started a month ago when we reached the first reading milestone of The Ministry for the Future—a terrible, fearful climate fiction novel. As promised, I started to write my first essay about the book in my heated apartment—oh, the little luxuries of capitalism! It was Saturday, November 8 and over the weekend, I went through my notes. I was scrambling to make sense of the first 28 chapters of the book with the guy who kidnaps the lady, the Children of Kali, the pilot with the geoengineering, The Ministry for the Future, the fishing boat slaves, the scientists who want to stop icebergs from melting, the 3000 gigaton of fossil carbon, the 2000 Watts Society, the Gini coefficient, and the climate terrorists.
I was so deep in systemic confusion that I’d overseen a crucial piece of information—in the book, The Ministry for the Future, a subsidiary of UN’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, was established at COP29 in 2024.
COP29 took place on Monday, November 11!
Oblivious to the historical meaning of the date, I woke up Monday morning feeling quite stressed about my essay. Based on our chats, the two main topics of discussion had been: 1) the absolutely frustrating narrative and 2) the absolutely terrifying idea that climate terrorism could save our planet.
For the first point, I’d found literary precedents for successfully using fragmented narratives as a storytelling device in the books of one of my favorite writers, Mario Vargas Llosa: Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter and The Storyteller.
But what about climate terrorism? Could violence be the answer?
I closed my eyes, preparing to go into a creative trance by using the scientific method of interfacing my consciousness to higher dimensions beyond our perception. This is when it hit me: why not look to history? The idea of using terrorism for good was neither new nor unique. In fact, The Ministry for the Future was as terrorist as Vlad the Impaler—a.k.a the real Dracula—who became the Voivode of Wallachia in 1459 and was famous for imposing justice by impaling people on wooden stakes.
As soon as I thought of his name, there was a stir in the higher dimensions. It was almost like a cosmic calling, and the next thing I knew, I was back in my—gulp—gas-heated apartment. Just that this time, I was not alone.
Saving the planet with the real Dracula
‘It’s so stuffy in here, we need some frische Luft!’
These were the first words that Vlad the Impaler, the real Dracula, spoke to me. I jumped from my tea table, which doubled as my writing desk, and opened the window for some fresh air. It was a bitter cold and rainy Monday morning, but that wasn’t the reason I was shivering.
‘Instead of burning fossil fuel, you could wear wool socks and Hausschuhe!’
I later learned that Vlad the Impaler was making himself acquainted with the Teutonic habit of wearing house shoes in winter while waiting for his Swiss visa. Without further ado, he sat at my tea table and asked what I was brewing.
‘Camellia sinensis, I see. It doesn’t grow in Austria, nicht wahr? Does it have to fly here? I assume you’re not part of the 2000 Watt Society.’
In The Ministry for the Future, I read about the 2000 Watt Society—a real-life Swiss initiative advocating for sustainable living by consuming only 2000 watts of energy per person— but, of course, I wasn’t a member. I tried to steady my hand as I poured red tea into the small porcelain cups. Vlad kept staring at my electric kettle.
‘It tastes better with charcoal-boiled water. You should recycle some of my old stakes.’
The ones he used to impale the nobleman, the boyars, in 1459? I thought it wise not to ask.
‘Obwohl, I might put my old stakes to better use.’
‘Like what?’
Vlad’s grin was chilling.
‘Climate criminals! The bigger the crime, the higher the stakes. Geoengineering by impaling. Was meinst du?’
I cursed myself for asking, wondering whether I would be part of his next historical reenactment. Fortunately, a notification ping caught Vlad’s attention. He pulled out his Huawei phone.
‘Our visas arrived!’
Our? I was confused.
‘Where are we going?’
Vlad stood up, and I politely followed, trembling like the historical tea master Sen no Rikyu after a tea session with the murderous samurai Hideyoshi.
‘To take over The Ministry for the Future, natürlich! We must save the planet!’
Vlad wrapped his long red cape around my shoulders.
‘Before we leave, don’t forget to turn off the heating! We must save energy.’
Geoengineering by impaling
What followed was as confusing and fragmented as the book itself, with time leaping back and forth like a movie edited by an overzealous director. Before I knew it, we were in Zürich at The Ministry for the Future’s headquarters. Mary Murphy sat at a her desk brooding over the ministry’s black faction. As she reflected on the ethical limits of its shadow work, Vlad and I made a historical appearance. At first, Mary Murphy was confused. Rightfully so. It was not every day that a short medieval vampire with piercing eyes and a long nose stormed into your office and declared himself the savior of the planet.
‘Gnädige Frau Murphy…’
‘What?’
It turned out that the director of The Ministry for the Future didn’t speak German, much to Vlad’s consternation.
‘I’ve lingered in the shadows for the past 500 years—the last decade bingeing vampire movies on Netflix—waiting for humanity’s darkest hour. That hour has come. It is time to fulfil my true destiny: saving the planet! No compromises. No deals. No mercy. An iron hand is needed to accomplish the task, and I have two. I think my résumé speaks for itself.’
He handed over a scroll to Mary Murphy. Mary unrolled it cautiously, her face livid as she took in the medieval scribbling and disturbing illustrations of impaled people.
‘Very compelling résumé… sir? But I think that in today’s world, we need a more… diplomatic approach.’
Vlad clawed the scroll from her hand, rolled it and put it back in his pocket.
‘I honestly prefer Frank-like efficiency. You see a rich person having fun in these dire times, stake them!’
Mary looked tired and weary.
‘Look, mister! In the last weeks, this crazy climate activist you mentioned, Frank, kidnapped me, and then my chief of staff informed me that my ministry is conducting climate terrorism on the side. And now you! Meanwhile, the world is burning, and I need solutions!’
‘Tell me about your problems, and I’ll tell you my solutions!’
A long meeting followed in which Vlad the Impaler presented his plan to save the world to an increasingly uneasy audience. Here are my meeting notes.
Mary: ‘20 million innocent people died in the Indian heatwave. How do we stop such climate catastrophes in the future?’
Vlad: ‘Simple, you have your 2000 Watt Society! Whoever consumes more energy than their allocated quota is automatically declared a climate criminal.’
Mary: ‘The people in the first world will never agree to this!’
'Vlad: ‘Stake them!’
Mary: ‘These are millions of people! Where will we get so many wooden stakes?’
Vlad: ‘Good point. Deforestation is a huge problem. The climate criminals will build stakes from recycled materials.’
Mary: ‘Perhaps… solar panel stakes?’
Vlad: ‘Great idea! Forced labor to further the cause. The old and weak will be impaled. Change with us, change now or be impaled on Vlad’s solar panel stake! Did you write that down?’
Me: ‘Yes, sir!’
Mary: ‘Next, India’s geoengineering solution and the remaining 3000 gigatons of carbon assets sitting in the ground that we absolutely cannot burn. What do we do about them?’
Vlad: ‘Stake them! Throwing sulfur is a stupid pollution solution. Always address the cause, not the symptoms! I propose geoengineering by impaling! 500 solar panel stakes for the 500 executives controlling the 3000 gigatons of carbon assets for their companies!’
Mary: ‘What if the companies just replace them?’
Vlad: ‘If they don’t stop, I will dip my bread in their blood!’
Mary: ‘But this is insane! When will the violence stop?’
Vlad: ‘The terror will never stop! My undead secret army, the Children of Kali, will punish climate criminals forever. Law and order must reign. We will brutally discipline every wasted watt of electricity, every plastic bottle and every extra H&M t-shirt. Stake them all!’
Mary: ‘You can’t impale everyone!’
Vlad: ‘I have alternatives: crushing under the wheels of carts—or cars, as you call them today—skinning alive, boiling in cauldrons, or roasting over red hot coals, the only approved use of coal.’
Mary: ‘This is barbaric!’
Vlad: ‘We could also nail every private jet and yacht to their owner’s head. Justice is brutal!’
Unfortunately, my laptop ran out of battery, and I couldn’t take further notes. At that point, it was clear that no meeting minutes were needed. Vlad’s iron-hand approach to climate change was going to involve a lot of screaming and zero PowerPoint slides.
As I type this with frozen fingers, I can’t help but think that, perhaps, Vlad’s climate solutions aren’t so different from the policies we already ignore. Minus the screaming. I’ll stop here for today. I hope you reached the second reading milestone of The Ministry for the Future. If you’re new to this, you can find the reading schedule here or join the book club chat. I’ll send out the next newsletter detailing the implementation of real Dracula’s climate change solutions as soon as I can recharge my laptop and Kindle again.
Happy Holiday season! Vlad says to think twice before you do too much shopping.
Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: This is a satirical piece. No actual impaling is planned.
Further reading
The Origins of Dracula: Vlad the Impaler (for those who think the Children of Kali are brutal)
Human Consciousness Comes From a Higher Dimension, Scientist Claims (or maybe just a Netflix binge)
Sulphur sunshade is a stupid pollution solution (Vlad agrees, he has stakes instead)
Support the Story Voyager universe
If you enjoyed this satirical dive into climate fiction and historical absurdity, consider supporting my work by upgrading to a paid subscription. Your support helps keep this independent blog alive, fuels the creation of more thought-provoking (and occasionally ridiculous) stories, and brings me closer to turning my first book into reality.
There’s no paywall—everything I write is freely available to all—but your contributions make it possible for me to keep going. Let’s expand the cli-fi universe together, one story at a time.
Sometimes direct action is the only way. im all for impaling. plastic bottles can be molded into huge pointy stakes easily. its a lot quicker than the world slowly disintegrating into lawless carnage as the seas rise and the supermarkets stand empty.
Highly amusing and well written! Humorous satire (which always have a targeted – or impaled?😛 – victim) is an underused technique for nudging behavioural change. And I just knew every detail had been considered when Herr Impaler "pulled out his Huawei phone". Thank you for starting my day with a chuckle.