Small fuel cell power plants or similar systems could supply communities with locally produced electricity and heat in the future. Users might, for example, have a contract with a power company that operates several of these power plants in a network. Connected by sophisticated software, the plants could be centrally controlled, creating a virtual large-scale power plant
Frankfurt, December 12, 2020. Peter Dost stares spellbound at the two large, flat monitors on the wall of his home office. An opportunity like this doesn't come around often. The certificates dealer on the Frankfurt Energy Exchange has just realized that a French energy company has removed a virtual power plant from the European network because of a software problem. As a substitute for the temporary loss of several thousand small fuel cells in residential buildings and a few hundred larger systems in communities, the electricity supplier now has to power up an oil-fired generating station.
That's bad news for the energy group, since, as Dost knows, the company has already far exceeded its CO2 quota for this year. Dost immediately offers the group emissions rights via e-mail and looks for an appropriate seller. On the left display, Dost can retrieve online information about the energy consumption of the trading zones in Europe, the U.S. and Asia, broken down according to region, power plant units and fuels. The other flat screen shows current carbon dioxide emissions and a projection of what they will be in 12 hours.
In Ukraine, he comes up with something. The country, which recently became member of the EU, has a grateful customer. Half a year ago, its state-owned power company replaced a coal power plant with a modern combined-cycle facility. Now it sporadically offers the market its available CO2 emissions rights. Dost orders a quota and immediately obtains the order of the French supplier. Considering that this is something of an emergency, it's a good price. He quickly completes the deal and collects a handsome commission.
"Karin, we have something to celebrate," he calls upstairs, where his wife is brooding over a 3D design for an office building. "What is it?" she answers. "I just managed to trade emissions rights between several countries, help the environment and make a load of money!" Dost cries delightedly. "That's fantastic," says his wife, who runs down the stairs and plants a kiss on his cheek. "Should we go out to eat?" "Sure," says Dost, who utters a few brief commands in the direction of his computer. Then, turning to his wife, he says, "I'll see whether our favorite Italian restaurant is offering a catch of the day."
There is a knock on the terrace window. Their ten-year-old twins, Dominik and Elisabeth, are standing outside covered with snow. They gesture. Dost's household robot has just brought them hot drinks, and they have built a snowman. But that is not the reason for their excitement; the maintenance man from the power company is standing at the garden gate. He has examined the fuel-cell power plant of the community. It's not often that someone comes by in person, Dost thinks. Maybe the maintenance man has discovered a problem that can't be remedied through telediagnostics and remote maintenance?
Dost opens the sliding door; immediately ice-cold air flows in. It is the coldest December in 25 years. For a week the snow has been knee deep; that's a lot even up here in the hills. "Any trouble?" he calls out to the technician. "No," he answers. "The power plant is working perfectly; so is the heat transfer to the houses. I just need a signature from one of the co-owners." "Kids, go over to the maintenance guy and bring me the form," says Dost. He signs, waves to the man and asks the children: "Feel like pizza?" They beam. "Then come in and change your clothes."
As the twins are getting out of their overalls, the telephone rings. On the display, a young man appears and introduces himself as a representative of a new energy dealer. Dost knows the company; they're the ones with the stop-and-go power light. "Mr. Dost, don't you, too, have the feeling you pay too much for your power?" says the sales rep, beginning his pitch. "We have a completely new concept: With our stop-and-go power light, you can always see when it's an especially good time to mow the lawn or turn on the washing machine. If the light is green, the power is at least 20 % below the spot price on the energy exchange. All we have to do is install a small program in all of your Internet-connected household appliances, and without further ado you will be able to enjoy our benefits, Mr..."
"Excuse me," Dost interrupts. "Our residential community has leased a 100-kW fuel cell with a micro gas turbine; we produce electricity and heat and sell the surplus to the distributor or the power exchange, depending on which one pays the better price. But maybe you have a piece of software that will improve our network management? Call back again tomorrow, if you would, just now isn't convenient." The sales rep nods and Dost ends the telephone conversation by pressing a button. Karin and the children are already dressed. "Let's go," his wife cries merrily, "we're famished!"
Norbert Aschenbrenner