Artemis was ready for that one. “An obvious argument, Commander, but it’s not just the humans, is it?” He opened a few more video windows and the fairies watched scenes of scrawny polar bears stranded on ice floes, moose in Michigan being eaten alive by an increased tick population, and bleached coral reefs devoid of all life.

“It’s every living thing on or underneath this planet.”

Foaly was actually quite annoyed by the presentation. “Do you think we haven’t thought about this, Mud Boy? Do you think that this particular problem has not been on the mind of every scientist in Haven and Atlantis? To be honest, I find this lecture patronizing.”

Artemis shrugged. “How you feel is unimportant. How I feel is unimportant. Earth needs to be saved.”

Holly sat up straight. “Don’t tell me you’ve found the answer.”

“I think so.”

Foaly snorted. “Really? Let me guess: wrap the icebergs, maybe? Or shoot refracting lenses into the atmosphere?

How about customized cloud cover? Am I getting warm?”

“We are all getting warm,” said Artemis. “That is the problem.” He picked up the Earth hologram with one hand and spun it like a basketball. “All of those solutions could work, with some modifications. But they require too much interstate cooperation, and, as we all know, human governments are not good at sharing their toys. Perhaps, in fifty years’ time, things might change, but by then it will be too late.”

Commander Vinyáya had always prided herself on an ability to read a situation, and her instincts were loud in her ears like the roar of Pacific surf. This was a historic moment: the very air seemed electric.

“Go on, human,” she said quietly, her words buoyed by authority. “Tell us.”