“How much will this Astrophage stuff change Earth’s temperature?” asked Luther.

I stood and paced slowly in front of the class. “We don’t know. But if it breeds like algae does, at about that same speed, climatologists are saying Earth’s temperature could drop ten to fifteen degrees.”

“What’ll happen?” Luther asked.

“It’ll be bad. Very bad. A lot of animals—entire species—will die out because their habitats are too cold. The ocean water will cool down, too, and it might cause an entire food-chain collapse. So even things that could survive the lower temperature will starve to death because the things they eat all die off.”

The kids stared at me, awestruck. Why had their parents not explained this to them? Probably because they didn’t understand it themselves.

Besides, if I had a nickel for every time I wanted to smack a kid’s parents for not teaching them even the most basic things… well… I’d have enough nickels to put in a sock and smack those parents with it.

“Animals are going to die too?!” Abby asked, horrified.

Abby rode horses competitively and spent most of her time at her grandfather’s dairy farm. Human suffering is often an abstract concept to kids. But animal suffering is something else entirely.

“Yes, I’m sorry, but a lot of livestock will die. And it’s worse than that. On land, crops will fail. The food we eat will become scarce. When that happens, the social order often breaks down and—” I stopped myself there. These were kids. Why was I going this far?

“How—” Abby began. I’d never seen her at a loss for words. “How long before this happens?”

“Climatologists think it’ll happen within the next thirty years,” I said.

Just like that, all the kids relaxed.

“Thirty years?” Trang laughed. “That’s forever!”

“It’s not that long…” I said. But to a bunch of twelve- and thirteen-year-olds, thirty years may as well be a million.

“Can I be on Tracy’s team for the rock-sorting assignment?” asked Michael.

Thirty years. I looked out at their little faces. In thirty years they’d all be in their early forties. They would bear the brunt of it all. And it wouldn’t be easy. These kids were going to grow up in an idyllic world and be thrown into an apocalyptic nightmare.

They were the generation that would experience the Sixth Extinction Event.

I felt a cramp in the pit of my stomach. I was looking out at a room full of children. Happy children. And there was a good chance some of them would literally die of starvation.

“I…” I stammered. “I have to go do a thing. Forget the rock assignment.”

“What?” asked Luther.

“Do… study hall. This is study hall for the rest of the hour. Just do homework from other classes. Stay in your seats and work quietly until the bell rings.”

I left the room without another word. I almost collapsed in the hall from the shakes. I went to a nearby drinking fountain and splashed water on my face. Then I took a deep breath, got some self-control back, and jogged to the parking lot.