Chapter 69: Operation Green Vein 2: Taking the First Step
Heather returned to his study and solemnly pulled out a new notebook he'd been hoarding for a long time. He wrote on the first page: "Green Vein Project." This meant allowing plants to penetrate the industrial zone like meridians, thereby opening up the vital arteries that sustain life.
How can we improve the current situation a little? Perhaps the first step should be to change our mindset.
Hessel knew that at that time, mainstream science hadn't yet fully grasped the harmful effects of industrial pollution; the unpleasant odors were even considered a symbol of progress. Of course, they didn't care about the lives of workers; to them, it was no different from the wear and tear of machinery.
Likewise, workers themselves are rarely aware of the health impacts of a toxic environment. They recognize some common symptoms, but often attribute pollution-related illnesses to exploitative factory owners, overwork, or simply bad luck.
If we want people to spend money and effort to improve this situation, we must first make them realize the criticality of the problem. This change in consciousness is best synchronized, otherwise, if only the workers at the grassroots level realize it, but the rich who hold economic power do not, there is no telling how many riots will break out.
She bit the pen and thought for a long time, the draft paper on the table was covered with messy lines. Finally, she put down the pen and walked out of the study, knocking on the door next door as if she knew the way.
Anna arrived late, still covered in paint and with red eyes.
Heather: "Aw, are you working hard again?"
Anna: “No, I’m drawing things that interest me.”
Heather: "Okay, come to my house for dinner tonight. I just want you to help contact Mrs. Banks. I have something important to discuss with her. Is it okay to meet at your house one of the next two nights?"
Anna nodded: "I promise to complete the task."
The door closed and the meeting was quickly concluded.
At 9 o'clock in the evening, Anna knocked on Heather's door and told her that Mrs. Banks had arrived two minutes ago.
Heather had hardly contacted her recently, except for handing over the dividends to Anna on time, and then Anna passed them on to a fixed contact, and exchanging simple greeting letters.
"I thought you could come tomorrow at the earliest. You have to make arrangements in advance, right?" Anna was kicked out of the room by her boss, and Heather unceremoniously occupied the soft sofa in the middle of the studio.
Dorothea sat upright behind her desk, her hands folded on the table, and explained simply, "He's at Mistress No. 5's tonight. What did you want to talk to me about?"
Heather choked. It was difficult to exchange pleasantries with her; she had to get straight to the point. "The industrial waste gas and sewage emitted by hundreds of factories, large and small, in London not only harms workers, but also affects wealthy people living farther away, causing serious harm to people's health. I want to do something big: promote the use of plants to improve pollution emissions and the working environment."
She placed a piece of paper in front of Dorothea, who put on her glasses and picked it up. She looked at it front and back several times before she was sure that it only had a serious title written on it: The Green Vein Project.
"Well, I haven't had time to write the content yet, but I've thought it through and can write it now." Heather was embarrassed.
Dorothea didn't respond. She put the paper down and stared at him with a piercing gaze. "This isn't just a woman's thing."
Heather shrugged. "Indeed, I don't want to stop at so-called women's stuff, especially stuff only available to wealthy women. But this plan might offend some sensitive people, like your husband. If you don't want to participate, just ignore me." It was a lie. She didn't want to do it alone. Finding a partner who could share the burden and increase the leverage wouldn't be easy. She silently prayed that Dorothea would be interested.
Dorothea was silent for a long time before she said, "The risks are high, but the rewards are also high, both in money and in fame."
Heather immediately jumped in: "The overall risk is quite high, but if we share it, it's only half. And we can all stop at any time if things get tough. For now, all I need is your help in organizing a large-scale salon with a diverse audience, so I can give a speech proving the toxicity of industrial waste gas."
Dorothea asked, "Are industrial waste gas and wastewater really toxic? Are you sure plants can purify them?" She didn't understand why this young lady had so many strange theories, as Britain was clearly at the forefront of the development of botany.
Heather nodded. "I'll write down a few basic experiments now. This isn't my first discovery; I collected them from various sources. If you want to publish them under your name or give them to Sir Banks, that would be even better. I don't want to expose myself either."
Dorothea looked at her to stop talking nonsense.
Heather explained briefly as she wrote, and Dorothea asked almost no questions, finishing the task in just ten minutes.
"Well, what do you think?"
Dorothea took the paper and folded it. "Controversial animal experiments cannot be conducted at the salon. I will verify them privately and publish them in the newspaper under my name when appropriate. Those that are easily accepted can be presented on the spot at the salon. I'll give you the invitation by next week."
Heather didn't care about her cold tone. As long as she could achieve her goal, it was fine. She reminded her, "You might not find a newspaper willing to publish this stuff."
Dorothea took out a badly worn pocket watch, checked the time, and stood up from behind the desk. "Don't worry about it. If you don't want to, just invest the money. If that doesn't work, just buy another one. The dividends you gave me before will be enough to invest in it."
Heather smacked her lips. She was truly willing to do this. "Well, I'll be waiting for your good news. Project Green Vein has officially launched!"
She held out her hand, and Dorothea, putting on her hat, touched it perfunctorily, nodded, and left.
"Tsk, so cool."
The latest plant salon came faster than expected, so much so that Heather had just prepared the exhibits and had no time to practice her speech a few more times when Anna came to her house with the invitation.
"This salon invites all ladies and gentlemen from the political, academic, and business communities who are interested in botany. There will be a sharing session on new academic findings at 4 p.m., and I hope everyone will benefit from it," Mary read the invitation. "So this is a special sharing session for you, Auntie?"
Heather took a deep breath. "I don't know. I'm really curious about how she convinced Sir Banks to agree to the contents of this invitation. After all, all salons serve his reputation and status. Would he really allow someone to steal his limelight?"
Anna took a grape and put it in her mouth: "Maybe he has grown kinder because of his age."
Heather raised an eyebrow. "It's more likely that Dorothea told him I was a man, a man who would donate half a million pounds if I were given ten minutes to speak."
This caused all of them to giggle.
However, Sir Banks was obviously not a fool who could be easily fooled, and Dorothea did not arrange a separate sharing session. On the day of the salon, at 4 o'clock sharp, Sir Banks' assistant came on stage as a representative to explain Sir's latest research results. He himself was not present.
The salon was bustling with people, and the stepped seats in the conference hall were filled with people. There were men on the left and women on the right, and the area was divided according to social status. The merchants were the farthest away at the back, but they had the largest number of people. They had rarely had the opportunity to participate in such a plant salon before.
Dorothea's maid came over with her head down and whispered in Heather's ear, "Mrs. Laurence, after the speaker on the stage finishes his speech, it will be your turn. Please get ready."
Heather's heart was pounding with nervousness. Oh my God, this place was so big, and the number of people here was almost the same as the students in the four grades of her university major combined. It was estimated that there were at least fifty or sixty people. I wondered if someone would be dissatisfied and rush onto the stage to chase them away.
"Mary, are all the things ready for Mrs. Banks?" Her voice was trembling as she asked the same question eight hundred times.
"Everything is ready, Aunt." Mary was also a little worried. "But you'd better speak louder. The voice of the gentleman on the stage now sounds louder."
Speak louder. This is very difficult. When people are nervous, they may break their voice if they raise the volume intentionally. That would be too embarrassing.
Heather wanted to escape.
A round of warm applause announced the end of the first speech. Mrs. Banks waited for the applause to stop before going onto the stage.
"Thank you all for listening. If you have any questions, please feel free to discuss this with Assistant Jason after the meeting. Now, let's invite our second guest, Mrs. Heather Lawrence, who will share her new findings on the relationship between industrial pollution and public health."
The applause from the audience was sparse. Someone in the front row was talking to the person next to them, discussing a topic that was clearly not included in the sharing session order they had inquired about in advance.
Heather was stunned. Lady Dorothea was so utterly unbelievable, adding her to the mix right there on the spot. This was even more awkward. If she didn't get it right, everyone would be embarrassed. It was too late to run away now. Heather stood up and tried to imitate Dorothea's expressionless face as she walked onto the stage. Luckily, her hat had mesh on the front, so even those in the front row couldn't see her expression.
After she took the stage, the chatter intensified. The pre-prepared props were placed on the stage, and it was hard to tell whether the audience was discussing the woman or the inexplicable white cloth. Mary's worries were unnecessary, however. Dorothea had the foresight to send a male assistant with a booming voice to stand by, relaying every word Heather said, word for word.
"Ahem, ladies and gentlemen."
After the male assistant finished repeating, the scene became a little quieter.
"Today, I want to first prove that factory emissions, such as soot, can have significant, even fatal, impacts on human health and lifespan. It's like a chronic poison, and its impact isn't limited to long-term factory workers; anyone can be affected."
As soon as these words were spoken, the scene, which had just been quiet for a few seconds, seemed to explode again. Some people shouted "ridiculous", some people covered their chests in panic, especially the group of business wives at the back, who seemed to be no strangers to coal smoke.
Mrs. Banks returned to the podium. She remained silent, standing behind Heather. The Banks name was still quite effective at this point; her presence signaled support, which at least prevented the audience from immediately charging forward. However, two aristocratic men in the front row stood up silently, frowning as they walked out.
Heather didn't care. Once the arrow is shot, there is no turning back.
"Behind me are six pieces of white velvet. They were originally cut from the same piece of fabric, and are all identical in material, color, and size. Over the past forty-eight hours, I've hung five of them in different locations around London: a factory exhaust, a factory complex, a residential area in Chelsea, a residential area in Westminster, and Hyde Park. I didn't take them down until an hour before the salon began. You can see that the one in the front is completely charred black, while the one at the back, in the park, has barely changed in color. The colors of the ones in the middle range from dark to light, which is obviously related to the distance from the factory exhaust and the density of the vegetation."
This experiment was simple and intuitive, consistent with people's current cognition, and did not seem like nonsense. Therefore, although there was a lot of discussion in the audience, no one questioned it loudly.
Heather was able to continue. The specific causes of the disease were too complicated, and she herself had only a vague understanding of them, so it would be more useful to directly demonstrate the harm.
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