One had already secured a dozen Navy Seals to make their way to his compound if he gave them the right cue. They knew armed guards would be required to protect their compounds from raiders as well as angry mobs. This single question occupied us for the rest of the hour. That was their euphemism for the environmental collapse, social unrest, nuclear explosion, solar storm, unstoppable virus, or malicious computer hack that takes everything down. Which was the greater threat: global warming or biological warfare? How long should one plan to be able to survive with no outside help? Should a shelter have its own air supply? What was the likelihood of groundwater contamination? Finally, the CEO of a brokerage house explained that he had nearly completed building his own underground bunker system, and asked: “How do I maintain authority over my security force after the event?” The event.
Bitcoin or ethereum? Virtual reality or augmented reality? Who will get quantum computing first, China or Google? Eventually, they edged into their real topic of concern: New Zealand or Alaska? Which region would be less affected by the coming climate crisis? It only got worse from there. They started out innocuously and predictably enough. They had come to ask questions.Ī shelter under construction at the Rising S Company in Murchison, Texas. After a bit of small talk, I realised they had no interest in the speech I had prepared about the future of technology. They sat around the table and introduced themselves: five super-wealthy guys – yes, all men – from the upper echelon of the tech investing and hedge-fund world. But instead of me being wired with a microphone or taken to a stage, my audience was brought in to me. They left me to drink coffee and prepare in what I figured was serving as my green room. The next morning, two men in matching Patagonia fleeces came for me in a golf cart and conveyed me through rocks and underbrush to a meeting hall. On a parallel path next to the highway, as if racing against us, a small jet was coming in for a landing on a private airfield. What sort of wealthy hedge-fund types would drive this far from the airport for a conference? Then I saw it. As the sun began to dip over the horizon, I realised I had been in the car for three hours.
A limo was waiting for me at the airport.
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