Armando was located and, on request of Alex and the others, brought to the house. Armando had never been in any real danger, he simply couldn't get close to the island - the whole area was locked down tight.
The five of them and Buddy, who was lying quietly next to Richard, were sitting on luxurious chairs and lounges in the living room. Except Oscar; he sat at a table in front of a laptop. “Okay, we're alone,” said Alex. “We have to decide. What're we going to do and how're going to do it?”
“Do you think Shannon's listening?” asked Oscar.
“Who cares?” asked Emily. “It isn't going to change what we do.”
“Exactly,” said Alex. “We just need to make sure we aren't manipulated while we figure this out. I don't want anyone else trying to influence us until we make our plans. So...” Alex leaned forward. “I guess the first thing we need to decide is, what are our goals?”
“We need to make sure nothing like this ever, ever happens again,” said Oscar as he typed away at his keyboard.
“I don't think that's possible,” said Emily. She sounded discouraged.
“I agree,” said Alex. “But we do have an opportunity here to try to influence what happens in the future. At least the near future.”
“Okay,” said Richard. “What can we do?”
“I've been thinking a lot about this,” said Alex. “Like Shannon, I believe in our form of government, I believe in the Constitution and I believe in the institutions that implement the Constitution.”
“But that's what got us where we are now,” said Oscar. He stopped typing and looked up.
“I don't think so,” said Alex. “It wasn't our form of government that failed us. What happened was the people who ran the institutions forgot they served us and instead served something else. Our government devolved into a government of the rich, by the powerful and for the almighty dollar. And we, the nongovernment people, let it happen.”
“Well,” said Emily, “if you believe what we've been told, those people are either gone or soon will be. Do you really think simply replacing them with other politicos will solve anything?” She sounded incredulous.
“What's the alternative?” asked Richard. “Our government is a representative government. That's how it works. You want us to run for office?”
“Hell no,” said Alex. “The thing is, there are people who know how to govern. I don’t. I don’t have the skills, the training, the experience, or even the interest to do that. I doubt you do either. They should govern. They know what can be done, how to do what needs to be done, and the consequences of what is done, far better than I or you.” He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “However, they do not have any better idea of what should be done, any more than any of the rest of us. And that’s where we need to exert our influence; that’s where you and I need to be empowered.”
“And just how do you propose we do that?” asked Emily.
“We could get everyone to e-mail in suggestions,” said Richard with a wry grin.
“That might not be such a far-fetched idea,” said Oscar.
“What I do know,” said Alex, “is we elected representatives then sat blithely back and let them run the show. We can no longer afford to do that.”
Emily took a deep breath. “Like Richard said, what else can we do?”
“I don't know how to do it, but what we need is to redevelop a government of the people, by the people and for the people. We can no longer voice our needs and opinions only through the ballet box. No. We need to take a more active role in the running of our government. That’s all of us.”
“That is one very tall order – there are so many of us,” said Richard.
“Hmmm...” said Oscar. “Maybe not. This is the twenty-first century, you know. Give me enough computer power and bandwidth and I can connect with the masses.”
All eyes turned to Oscar. “There are more than 315 Million people in the United States alone,” said Richard. “How could you possibly evaluate all that data?”
“It's not as big a problem as you might think. There are a lot of people out there, but there aren't that many ideas about how to deal with any one issue. There'd be a lot of repetition. A computer can sort through and collect data into a manageable pile of information that a few people could then analyze. And there's something else. There's a collective wisdom, if you can figure out how to tap into it.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Emily.
“I've been interested in something called emergence for some time,” said Oscar. “It first came to light in carnivals. They have 'Guess the Weight of the Bull' or 'How Many Beans are in the Jar' contests. Turns out, the average of all the guesses is consistently closer to the actual number than the closest individual guess. The problem is figuring out how to make it work with this data. Give me some time to work it out.” His focus went back to his computer.
“Time we don't have,” said Alex.
“No problem,” said Oscar. “Emergence can wait. Give me a day and enough computer power and I can make the rest work.” His fingers flew over the keyboard.
“There's something else that's been bothering me,” said Emily. “What the hell are we going to do with all those 'Survivors?' There must be around a three-hundred thousand in this country alone. There isn't enough prison space for all of them. We can't kill them.”
''Damn good question,” said Alex.
“Maybe we could put them in special camps spread throughout the country,” said Richard.
“You mean like concentration camps?” asked Emily.
“Sort of. But more humane. What other options are there?”
“I really don't know,” said Emily.
“Maybe there's some way we could tap into their talents without empowering them,” said Richard.
“What do you mean?” asked Alex.
“Maybe we could get them to give advice about how to accomplish what we want done without allowing them to be power brokers.”
“Is that realistic?” asked Emily. “How could that be done?”
“I don't know,” said Richard. “But it's something we could look into. Those people are going to have to be incarcerated anyway. Why not give them something constructive to do while they're there?”
“I'm just afraid doing anything like that would necessarily give them a way to have influence we don't want them to have,” said Emily.
“Don't forget climate change, either,” said Richard. “It's the elephant in the room we, as a species, have been trying to ignore.”
“You're right, but I think we have more urgent problems to deal with,” said Alex.
“I don't think there is anything more urgent,” said Richard. “Climate change was the driving force that caused the Survivors to try to kill billions of people. They saw the urgency. We need to deal with it and now. Remember the data Todd showed us? We can't afford to wait.”
“I know you're right,” said Oscar, “but not everybody believes climate change is real.”
“If there's anyone out there that thinks it's not real,” said Alex, “we need to let them know their doubt was created and promulgated by the Survivors. Doubt created so we would continue as we have been and help, unwittingly, the Survivors set up a comfortable post-apocalyptic lifestyle.”
“If we don’t solve it,' said Richard, “and soon, we’re all dead. All of us.”
“And before that,” said Emily, “if we don’t come up with an acceptable solution, others will attempt to solve it with methods at least as onerous as killing off billions of us with a deadly virus.”
“We, all people,"said Richard, “must solve this and soon. And we don’t have to start with the ultimate solution. We, each of us, can, right now, decrease our carbon footprint as much as possible. We must.”
“You're right, of course,” said Alex. “We need to get climate change out into the collective consciousness ASAP and keep it there.” He sighed. “There's so much that's hanging in the balance over a very deep aby
ss.”
“Okay,” said Oscar. “Here's what we can do. We get Shannon to set up a coming out for us with the public. That shouldn't be hard. It seems to be what he has in mind anyway. We get him to provide me with computer equipment. We have everyone with a smart phone or computer sign onto a website. Have them text a question, a statement, a complaint, anything they’d like the government people to address.”
“Which government people?” asked Emily.
“The people that'll be running things,” said Oscar.
“Exactly,” said Emily. “And just who is that? There's a power vacuum at the moment. Those who were in power are now in custody.”
“Somebody has to be running things,” said Alex. “Not everyone was involved with the Survivors. Somebody, like Shannon, must have taken over to keep things going. There isn't complete chaos.”
“Okay,” said Oscar, “so we ask Shannon who's in charge, even if temporarily. We tell him we need them there. The people need to meet them, see what they look like, get to know them.”
“You haven't said much, Armando,” said Emily. What do you think?”
“I think you're going to need someplace really big to do this,” said Armando. “There are a lotta people that're gonna wanna be there.”
“Crap,” said Alex. “I hate crowds.”
. . .
Alex looked around him as he walked up to the stage. It was late afternoon and shadows fell long on the artificial turf of RFK stadium. Soon, they would have to turn on the floodlights. The place was packed shoulder to shoulder with a mass of people standing, applauding, cheering and whistling. “Sure are a helluva lot of people,” he said to Armando who walked beside him.
Everybody’s life had been reordered, redefined, and Armando’s new niche as their primary logistician was much appreciated. “A little over 53,000 in the stands and God knows how many on the field,” said Armando. “Maybe, I don’t know, another ten thousand. And that’s not counting all those who don’t have seats and those out in the parking lot.” He paused for a second. “Then there’re the millions on TV and radio and with the internet, I’m guessing at least a couple of billion people are watching and listening.”
It was a week since they left the island – it took them that long to set this up. Armando did all the work, except the internet part. Of course, that was Oscar’s forte. He was sequestered somewhere in a safe house, making that whole thing work.
“You sure you don’t want to go first, Richard?” said Alex.
“No, you do it.”
“Emily?”
Emily frowned and gave him a stop-messing-around look. “Guess not,” said Alex. He took a deep breath and looked around him. “Sure are a helluva lot of people.”
The three of them, with Buddy, stepped onto the stage and left Armando on the sidelines. Alex waited for the applause, shouts and whistles to die down. “Hello,” he said into the microphone. “I’m Alex Stewart,” he nodded to his right, “this is Richard Gregg and,” he looked over to his left, “this is Emily Clark.” Absolute chaos. “And behind me are the interim Secretaries of The Department of Justice.” He motioned for each secretary to stand as he announced them. “Transportation, Agriculture, Defense, Health and Human Services, the Interior, Labor, Education, Commerce, Energy, Homeland Security, Housing and Urban Development, State, the Treasury.” Each stood in turn. “I asked them here so you could see who’s inherited running the show.” He paused for effect. “And because we, and I mean all of us, need to talk.” He motioned for the Secretaries to sit.
“I am so pleased to see you all… Alive.” More applause, shouts and whistles. “It was so close to being otherwise.” All was strangely quiet.
Alex took another deep breath. “These people,” he turned and waved behind him, “are now running things and they, too, were on the list of those to be exterminated. Those other people, the ones that called themselves ‘The Survivors’ – we really need to come up with a better name for them – are no longer in charge of our institutions. These new public servants, behind me, have asked the four of us to be their spokespersons. You don’t need that – it only increases the distance between us, the people, and them, the government.”
Somewhere came shouts of “We are the ninety-nine!”
“The ninety-nine,” said Alex. “That’s taken on a whole new meaning, hasn’t it? Well, we, the ninety-nine, have some problems we have to discuss. And we need to address them now. We can't leave it up to a few 'experts,' that's what got us all nearly killed. We all need get involved in what happens next. That's why we are here.”
. . .
Alex stepped into the limo behind Emily, Richard and Buddy. It was in the early hours of the morning – they had been in the stadium for many hours. “What do you think?” he asked. “Think we did anything good?”
“Yeah,” said Emily, “maybe. How effective it’ll be depends on what we do next, but I think we had a good start.” She leaned her head on Alex’s shoulder. “I’m beat.”
“The problem is how to keep the government from blowing us all off and going their own way,” said Richard.
“Oscar can keep an eye on them,” said Emily sleepily.
“That and we need to keep the pressure on,” said Alex. “Make the government pay attention and respond to public sentiment. We can do it.”
. . .
Alex sat behind a desk in a makeshift office provided for him in an old stone-and-mortar government building in Washington D.C. It was small, but big enough to hold what he needed - computers, fax machines, telephones, and reams of paper in folders, files, and piles. It was a month since the gathering at RFK and he was watching a news report stream over one of his computers when he heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” he said, still focused on the computer. The door opened and, glancing up, Alex saw Richard walk in. Buddy was at heel next to him. “Have you seen the reports coming in from the Far East?”
“No,” said Richard.
“It’s Armageddon - crop failure and hunger riots in China, revolution in Sumatra, flash floods in Bangladesh. It’s a mess. Hundreds of thousands dead and dying, God knows how many maimed and injured. And there’s very little we can do to help.”
“Sounds like what we’ve been hearing coming from the Middle East and some places in Eastern Europe,” said Richard.
“So, how’re things going with healthcare in this country?”
“We’re limping along. Supply is still a problem – so many of the large drug companies were paralyzed by the loss of their top staff when the Survivors were removed. And things are complicated by the loss of capitol when the government froze their funds. Then there’s the logjam created by the need to distribute what we have with dwindling amounts of fuel – although the DOT has given healthcare priority. It’s going to take some time. What I’m spending most of my time doing is looking for people that’ve fallen between the cracks and arranging for an equitable distribution of what we’ve got. It ain’t easy.”
“Well, at least most are getting enough to eat, although maybe not what they want to eat.”
“So, where’s Emily?” asked Richard.
“She’s still here in Washington, at the Department of Justice, trying to help coordinate what's going to happen with the Survivors. I think your idea was a good one, to strip them of their power and influence, but put them back to work doing what they do best.”
“What else could we do with over three-hundred thousand new social rejects? Put 'em on a rock pile? Besides, they have the talent to help put our country back together. We just have to make sure they can’t ever return to positions of influence. Which is, of course, the problem.”
“I have faith in Emily,” said Alex. “She’ll come up with something that works.”
“Yeah, me too. But will the powers-that-be work with her? We have no official power, you know. We’re more like Socratic gadflies.”
“They’ll listen. At least we don’t have to worry about the virus. Srivastava’s lab had no othe
r samples or data as to how to create the virus. And, I’m told, the CDC is about ready to release the vaccine.”
“Well, there is that. Have you seen Oscar?”
“Not recently,” said Alex. “No doubt, he’s in some dark hole somewhere, surrounded by an unlimited collection of high-tech gear whose purpose and function we’ll never fathom.”
Richard looked around the room. “You there, Oscar?”
Alex was not particularly surprised to hear a beep from his computer. He clicked on a flashing icon and a likeness of Oscar appeared on the screen. “I am not in a hole,” it said. “Though I have to admit I’m underground. You ought to drop by and say hello sometime. How are you, Richard?”
“Hi, Oscar, thought you might be listening,” said Richard.
“Hey, you don’t want me to listen, turn off your computer. All your computers, smart phones, tablets, cable TV modems, electronic doodads. I haven’t figured out how to hack into your toaster, so I think that’s okay. But…” Oscar chuckled. Then his face sobered. “Gotta look out for you guys.”
“I don’t think turning that stuff off would be enough. I’d probably have to get in a faraday cage,” said Alex. “But I’m glad you look in on us. We’re probably all targets now.” He paused in reflection for a moment. “It’s odd. That’s getting to seem kinda normal.”
“I do worry about it,” said Oscar.
Richard was looking off at the wall as if distracted by something. “You okay, Richard?” asked Alex. “Is there something bothering you?”
The Devil's Vial Page 40