A web comes undone

Human activity has always caused serious disturbances in the ecosystem, and affects food chains and food webs all around the world. Krill, tiny shrimp like creatures which are found all over the world, are abundant in the Antarctic waters, and form a major link in the food web existing in the Antarctic ocean.

These krill feed on the phytoplankton or algae, and are in turn eaten by bigger fish, which are then eaten by seals and whales. However, survival of krill is now affected by the rising ocean temperatures brought about by global warming and the melting of ice.

In the past few decades, there has been a 70-80% decline in Antarctic Krill population. This will in turn, affect the food chain, finally affecting the survival of whales and seals. Hunting of whales and seals is strictly prohibited in Antarctic waters as per the Antarctic Treaty, but capturing of whales and seals is still allowed for “scientific” reasons.

Unfortunately, unscrupulous powers exploit this loophole to capture these sea creatures, which ultimately end up at Japanese dinner tables as delicacies.

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Stalton, the rich businessman, listened to his secretary Fresca giving him details of the month’s accounts of his various businesses worldwide, while he reclined on his luxury couch covered in tiger skin. His fingers drummed rhythmically on the arms of the couch, slowing down or snapping only when the secretary recounted a phenomenal profit or loss. Otherwise, a few ups and downs here and there were normal, and Stalton generally expected all his businesses to maintain a standard margin of 30% profit.

Fresca, meanwhile, was careful how he presented the state of finances. Telling the boss about business that did well earned him a pat on the back, and sometimes even a bonus. Fresca’s name itself, had been an unwelcome gift by the boss, when he had informed him of the success of two new projects.

Elation had made Stalton modify “Francis” to “Fresca”, which meant ‘fresh’- for the fresh happy news he had brought. However, news of a major loss or a business collapse earned him a slap that sent him flying across the room; a few times he had lain prostrate at the boss’ feet after being fired, wailing that he be taken back into service.

After all, he was not the one at fault; he was only the harbinger of news. At the end of the account, Fresca mopped his brow. He was relieved that he had managed to get to the end of it without incident. He had just reached the door when Stalton called him back. Trembling, Fresca walked back to his boss.

“That blubber business seems to be doing extremely well”, remarked Stalton, drawing deeply from his Hawaiian cigar. Blubber was the layer of fat tissue that gave warmth to sea creatures like the whales and the seals, and was used for several commercial uses, including food, oil, wax and as medicine for cardiovascular ailments.

“Y- yes, Boss”, stammered Fresca. “We have more and more dealers approaching us now.

They’re willing to pay double, they say.”

“Pah! Black marketers”, spat Stalton. “Don’t I know them? Pay us double, sell it for triple or quadruple. Why can’t I do that myself? I’ve been in the black market for years now, Stalton is no stranger to all this.”

Fresca didn’t dare to speak. “These idiots don’t know”, continued Stalton, puffing away at his cigar. “Stalton has two faces. No, not two, multiple— if I were to keep only the respectable face that I show the world, I would be wallowing in losses. I make my profits from the black market alone.”

Fresca waited for Stalton to proceed. Stalton didn’t like it when Fresca voiced any ideas. “So right now, with hunting just a few whales, we’ve made a great profit.

But what if increased the hunting to large scale? And I’ve got news of a few islands over there, where we could set up our whale oil and seal oil industries.”

“B-but, Boss, the Antarctic Treaty”

“Oh, to hell with the Antarctic Treaty! Who doesn’t bend before money? I have enough to spend, if I can get five times more.”

Fresca cursed himself for having the ill-luck to work under such an unscrupulous person like Stalton. Plundering the earth for his own profit seemed to be the only agenda his boss had, and Fresco hated to be a part of it, though unwillingly.

Yet, being a loyal employee, he worked hard to set up the industries and get the false permits and illegal licences passed.

He was sent to the freezing Antarctic, where he oversaw their men hunting the whales and seals with harpoons. The industries that worked simultaneously on land let out their waste into the Antarctic waters- the waters that should have been glistening white with ice instead glistened with black pollutants and blood.

Fresca’s first few days were hell. Used to the sunny disposition of the temperate countries, Fresca felt a frequent wish to throw up.

When he got over that, he realized there was nothing to eat except krill. Krill were the smallest fish found in abundance in the oceans, which formed food for both humans and the rest of the fish in the ocean, including the seals and the whales.

Everyday, the workers would haul in a huge fishing net full of krill, which were then roasted or boiled and eaten.

Stalton, meanwhile, enjoyed the fruits of his spoils. He didn’t care about what happened to the populations of whales, seals or the oceans. He didn’t care that he or the large number of illegal businesses he had set up all over the world were responsible for the gradual destruction of the earth.

Though brisk business happened at the whaling front in Antarctica, Stalton’s name never came up, and only news of unidentified plunderers leaked to the rest of the world. Stalton was invited to international conventions on global warming and conservation, and he waxed eloquent about ethics and morals, though he possessed none of his own.

Years passed this way. Then reports started coming in to Fresca. “No more krill in the oceans”, said the fishermen. “No more bigger fish either”, said some others.

The ice was melting more than ever, and the climate was no longer what it used to be. Fresca put his hand in the water— he no longer felt the freezing chill he had felt the first time he had arrived there.

“What have I done in the name of loyal service?” wondered poor Fresca. It wasn’t long before the final call came in— “No more seals, no more whales”, they said. “Just a few here and there..”

Then Stalton’s orders came. “Nothing more to make out there”, he said. “Y’all can come right back. I’ve found a new area to invest in.”

As the ships slowly set sail out of the Antarctic waters, Fresca stood on the deck, surveying the destruction they had unleashed on the southern seas.

Why had he been a part of this? A sudden madness seized him, and he jumped into the cold waters of the ocean. While the rest of the crew hollered in shock, Fresca allowed the black, contaminated, lifeless waters all around him to pull him down, engulf him, and he slowly sank down to the bottom of the lifeless ocean.