New York City, December, 2077, Thursday…

Sergio Battaglia looked down from his office window, deep in thought. On other days he would have savored the view over the cold East River. Especially the sunrise as its blood-colored light streamed between the skyscraper forest. The high dike, which had been constructed to keep rising waters from encroaching upon the network of highways and maglev rails between his office building and the river, cast a deep shadow over the whole scene.

Until a few years ago, the waters had generally risen a few centimeters or so every year since the turn of the century, primarily due to the shrinking polar ice caps. Recently, though, they hadn't raised much. Global warming had peaked, or so his scientists told him. There were even some data that suggested that the Arctic ice pack was coming back.

He believed that the turn-around was probably due to the scarcity of oil. The light crude was nearly all gone. Heavy crude and petroleum from tar sands and shale operations still kept most refineries working, at least the ones that had been retrofitted to do the heavier refining, but they were almost too precious to be refined as gasoline anymore and far too expensive to be used in home heating.

You can't pollute if there's nothing to burn. The world had quickly turned to alternative sources of energy except where there was no substitute. Many plastics and other products still required petroleum or petroleum substitutes derived from coal, for example, or garbage. It made what little oil that was left all the more valuable.