“Understood, Mr. President,” said Cargill. Then, after a brief delay, he added, “Before you go, I recommend that you ask your communications director to send the press my way. I’ll use the alias Shawn Goodwin, and I can give you a phone number they can use to reach me. I’ll go on record as an anonymous top-secret source within the government. I’ll say it was a civilian scientific experiment gone awry, and assure the press that the odds of another inventor repeating this mishap are one in a million. I’ll assure them it wasn’t terrorism and that there is no radiation or other harmful fallout.”
“And when you’re asked the nature of this scientific experiment and how this could have happened?”
“I’ll make it clear that we don’t intend to make this public. If we reveal details, others might try to repeat it—on purpose.”
“In that case, everyone around the world will immediately assume we’re lying about it being civilian, and that it was a secret weapons site.”
Cargill nodded. “Let them. We’ll deny it, but it might give America’s enemies something to think about.”
The president considered. “Okay,” he said finally, looking as miserable as Cargill had ever seen him. “You can take point initially, but I’ll pick a few others I’ll want you to work with to spin this, so you can pass the baton very quickly.”
“Understood, Mr. President,” said Cargill, relieved that his meeting with Janney had come to an end. “I know how bad this is,” he added. “But rest assured, with Knight out of the picture, there will be nothing but smooth sailing from here on out.”
10
The Lake Las Vegas explosion continued to be the biggest news story around the world, and would be for days and months to come, garnering wall-to-wall coverage on the networks, cable channels, and social media—but the spinning of the tragedy was now out of Cargill’s hands.
Since so little real information was coming out of the government, speculation and conspiracy theories abounded. Many of these theories were preposterously farfetched. On the other hand, given the truth—that a duplicate of Jenna Morrison from another frame of time had triggered the explosion to kill the inventor of time travel, who wanted to use it to rule the world—no conspiracy theory could possibly go far enough.
As much as Cargill wanted to regroup and begin to move Q5 forward, he gave Nathan Wexler a full day and night to roam around the inside of the mountain, meet various members of the team, get reacquainted with his fiancée, and discuss and absorb the history and potential of Q5.
The second morning after Wexler’s arrival, Cargill had a lengthy conversation with the unparalleled physicist and Jenna Morrison. Wexler agreed to join Q5’s efforts, but only after making it clear how troubled he was by the loss of life that had taken place. He also acknowledged that they were in a brave new world, one presenting challenges that no ethicist or philosopher had ever dreamed of. He was well aware that the decisions they had been forced to make were treacherously difficult, and that the ones going forward wouldn’t be much easier—which was why he wanted a seat at the table to be sure that this capability was used in the best way possible to benefit humanity.
With this new addition to the ranks of the senior management team, Q5 officially completed the most comprehensive management change in its history, even including the aftermath of the bloody civil war that Knight’s violent secession had brought about.
The ranks of true senior management had dwindled down to three: Lee Cargill, his second-in-command, Joe Allen, and Daniel Tini, who was the most accomplished of the physicists on staff and had been serving as the head of the science and technology teams after Knight had left.
Cargill did have an Inner Circle of six members who were also in the know, all ex-commandos in charge of security and other clandestine operations. This number had recently been significantly larger, but, tragically, many of these men had been lost during the recent tug-of-war to acquire Nathan Wexler and his breakthrough.
But if only senior management were considered, the team had more than doubled in one fell swoop. Along with Jenna and her brilliant fiancé, Aaron Blake had been added as Cargill’s number three, in charge of the Inner Circle soldiers and all non-scientific aspects of the team. Finally, Dan Walsh would also be joining, becoming the number three scientist on the team as soon as UCLA’s semester ended and he joined them for good.
Despite Tini’s demotion to the number two scientist, he had wholeheartedly supported adding Nathan Wexler and putting him in charge. Tini didn’t believe for a moment he should remain the lead when a once-in-a-generation superstar was available.
Greg Soyer, a master computer hacker, was about to be married and had elected not to join the senior management team, but would act as a consultant to Q5 as needed.
A few hours after Wexler had agreed to come on board, Cargill held the first meeting of the new senior management team in a large conference room within the mountain, and welcomed the newcomers.
“I called this get-together,” said Cargill after preliminaries had been dispensed with, “because we have much to discuss. We’ve just seen a number of dramatic developments.”
He paused. “One,” he continued, ticking each point off with one of his fingers, “we now have the capability to extend time travel almost a half-second into the past, thanks to Nathan’s groundbreaking advances. This theoretical framework also opens up a few other intriguing possibilities that we’ll get to in a moment.
“Two, Edgar Knight is out of the picture, so we’ll be able to carry out our agenda in peace. The threat he posed is hard to overstate. He was wealthy, resourceful, and ruthless, and we suffered devastating losses during our recent war with him.”
“I can attest to his ruthlessness,” said Wexler. He went on to describe the horror he had witnessed inside Knight’s penthouse, when Knight had shot one version of Jenna Morrison in cold blood, before the other version of her had worked a deal that had ultimately saved his life.
“Knight spoke of culling the human species like it was no more troubling than trimming an unruly hedge,” continued Wexler. “If we hadn’t stopped him, he would have wiped Q5 out without a second thought. And I was part of his Brain Trust, so I know just how remarkable some of the advances he was working on truly were. He would have been unstoppable.”
“I have no doubt,” said Cargill.
Wexler nodded at the head of Q5. “Sorry for interrupting your flow,” he said sheepishly. “I believe you were about to list point three,” he added with a smile, gesturing to Cargill’s hand, which still had two fingers extended.
Cargill returned the smile. “I guess you really are good at math,” he said in amusement. He held out his hand and made a show of adding a third extended finger to the collection. “And three,” he continued, “after our Palomar headquarters was compromised, we’ve taken up residence here, but this is only temporary. We need to begin construction of a new headquarters tailored to our special needs. One that will have the right labs, facilities, and security we need to advance our agenda.”
“We’ll be looking for considerable input from everyone in this group,” said Allen, “so we get the details right.”
“With this said,” continued Cargill, “let me move into the meat of the meeting. Our capabilities have changed dramatically. Our team has changed dramatically. I feel that we’re at a crossroads, but also lost in the wilderness. Aaron pointed out when we first met that there is no real oversight of Q5. As the head of this group, this means no oversight of me—my power, my decisions. We all know what history teaches about the perils of a person or group having as much power as we do. Especially when this power comes with an almost complete lack of accountability.”
Cargill sighed. “So Aaron was right to be concerned. I’m concerned also. At the time he brought this up, I offered Jenna a key role if she would join our efforts. She’s had extensive graduate level training in molecular biology. And while this science isn’t part of what we do here, she’s shown herself to be brilliant and
well trained in the rigors of analysis and critical thinking. So I asked her to make what is likely the most significant contribution of all: to study the ethics of our situation, and find ways to keep me honest.”
Jenna shook her head and lowered her eyes in shame.
Cargill pretended not to notice. “So as a first order of business today, I’d like to ask Jenna to begin playing this role, in consultation with the members of this team and anyone else who might prove useful. I’d like her to begin putting together a moral and ethical framework to govern our actions.”
Jenna shrank back and shook her head once again. “How can you possibly think I’m still fit for this job?” she said, looking like she might vomit. “After what I agreed to do to take out Knight? After the innocent lives my duplicate destroyed on Lake Las Vegas? If this doesn’t show how wrong I am for this role, nothing will.”
“Lake Las Vegas only goes to show just how badly we need an ethical framework,” said Cargill.
“We may need it,” said Jenna, “but asking me to take the lead now is like putting Jesse James in charge of railroad security.”
“Who then?” said Cargill. “We’re all tainted by this. And we’re all struggling with it. I know you and Nathan have discussed it at length. I’ve discussed it with Aaron as well. You’re still more worthy than any of us,” he continued, and then with a wry smile added, “not that this is such a high bar to clear. But we all have other assigned tasks that are critical, and we aren’t about to read in a trained ethicist to the most secret program in the country. So who better than you? Who better than someone who was forced to make this kind of impossible ethical decision? Someone with some amends to make?”
“We need to get this right,” said Jenna morosely. “Daniel and Nathan are the best choices. Both brilliant, both analytical, and neither of them have innocent blood on their hands.”
“As I said, we need them elsewhere,” replied Cargill. “But even if we didn’t, Jenna, I’ve studied your past more than I care to admit. Your character. Everything I’ve seen so far, along with my instincts, tell me you’re perfect for this role. I know you fell from grace—or more accurately, I shoved you from grace—but that doesn’t change the fact that your actions were necessary and heroic.”
“I thought I was being heroic,” she said. “But now all I can think about are the innocents who died.”
“You were one of them,” Cargill reminded her. “Willing to sacrifice your own life to take down a monster. And this is a natural reaction. In the heat of battle people do things that seem barbaric to them in cold after thought. This is happening to all of us. When we made this decision, the stakes were off-the-charts high. Knight was a threat, not only to all of our lives, but a real threat to the entire planet. It’s natural for us to sober up afterwards and second-guess this decision. It’s easy to be outraged by cannibalism while pondering the concept from your sofa. A lot harder when you’ve survived a crash landing and your choice is cannibalism or starving to death.”
“Is this a rationale you’ve used to forgive yourself?” asked Jenna.
“No,” said Cargill, shaking his head vigorously. “Because I haven’t. I never will. None of us will. Which at least tells us we aren’t totally lost causes.”
Blake sighed. “I have to agree with Lee,” he said reluctantly. “I’ve thought a lot about all the innocents that were killed at Lake Las Vegas, as we all have. But Lee is right, context is critical. Second-guessing a brutal decision after the fact is common. Harry Truman ordered two atomic bombs dropped on Japan, which ended World War II. These bombs led to the deaths of over two hundred thousand Japanese, including scores of women and children. So was Truman a monster?”
He didn’t wait for a response. “Of course he was,” he continued, answering his own question. “But should he have done it? This isn’t as clear. The preponderance of the evidence suggests that by putting an immediate end to the war, this act saved many more lives than it cost. Estimates made before this decision was reached varied. But if the bomb had not been used, some at the time believed the additional losses on the American side would have been as high as a million.”
“Based on what?” asked Tini, not challenging this assertion but expressing genuine curiosity.
“Prior to having the atomic bomb as an option,” replied Blake, “America had planned two D-Day-style land invasions of Japan, and was determined to carry them out. The casualties on both sides would have been enormous, as they had been on D-Day. Japanese forces would have amassed at the point of these landings, turning them into bloodbaths. Not to mention that a Japanese Field Marshall had let it be known he would execute all one hundred thousand American prisoners of war if Japan was on the verge of losing.”
Blake paused. “Nowadays, it’s easy to second-guess this decision, easy to suggest the number of lives saved on the American side were overblown. Or even if they weren’t, this still didn’t justify such a horrific attack on women and children. But furthering Lee’s point, it’s easy in a time of relative peace, sitting on a comfortable couch, to do this second-guessing. But if you had lived during that time, when the threat was real, you’d have a different appreciation of why the decision was made.”
“You mean beyond just the saving of American lives?” said Nathan Wexler.
“Exactly,” said Blake. “Because the Americans didn’t just estimate their own casualties if the atomic bombs were left unused. They estimated Japanese casualties, as well. These came in even higher than on the American side. If true, this would mean that the net loss of life on both sides would be far less if the bombs were used than if they weren’t.
“Again,” continued Blake, “it’s critical to remember the context. Japan was using Kamikaze fighters, something the Americans had never run into before. Warriors willing to commit suicide to kill the enemy. Today, with our long experience with Jihadism, we’ve become accustomed to this reality. But back then it had the Allies rattled. The fear was that this mindset would cause Japan to fight to the death, to the bitter end and beyond. It didn’t help that Prime Minister Tojo had issued an emergency declaration calling for millions of kamikazes and suggested that the entire Japanese population should be prepared to die.”
Jenna listened in horrified fascination. “Why have I never heard about any of this context?” she asked. “I’ve always been ashamed of this episode in our history.”
“History is barely taught in schools anymore,” said Blake. “I only studied this episode because I’m in the military, where the history of war is an important topic.”
“But even knowing the full history,” said Cargill, “we should be ashamed. All of humanity should be ashamed of what the species was forced to become. But that’s also the point. Sometimes there are no good decisions, only impossible ones. Which doesn’t—necessarily—make those forced to make these decisions evil.”
Jenna considered for several long seconds and then turned to Blake. “What do you think about the bombing of Japan? Do you think it was justified?”
He paused in thought. “Everything considered,” he replied finally, “yes. Truman and the Allies warned the Japanese leaders they planned to use the bomb and gave them plenty of chance to surrender. They issued something called the Potsdam Declaration, which outlined surrender terms that were quite reasonable given the circumstances. I believe that using these bombs might well have been the best call for both sides. There is a writing that has become famous, made by an aging Japanese professor who was recalling the war. He said at the time of the bombings, he and multitudes of other Japanese civilians were starving to death. Literally. His weight was down to less than ninety pounds. The Japanese were starving their own people to fund the war effort, much like North Korea is doing today. He claims that, ironically, the atomic bomb saved him and millions of other Japanese lives. He said he couldn’t have survived another month. That if the Japanese military had its way they would have fought until every last person in Japan was dead.”
“Which
is exactly what the Americans feared,” noted Jenna.
Blake nodded. “And there were many in Japan after the war who shared the professor’s view. But even this doesn’t help put the decision into proper context. I could go on for hours, because there were numerous other factors. WWII was bloody hell on earth. The Japanese had killed thousands at Pearl Harbor, stabbing America in the back at the same time they were engaged in diplomatic negotiations with the State Department. By the time the bomb had been developed, the war had gone on for six years, and hundreds of thousands of Americans had been killed. During this time, the Nazis and Japanese never hesitated to bomb cities filled with civilians. The Nazis rained rockets down on England for years, killing tens of thousands. We think of Japan today as a friendly, democratic, peace-loving country. But at the time, its rulers weren’t so . . . civilized. Japanese soldiers committed any number of atrocities, including mass killings and rapes of helpless civilians in China, which I’ll leave to you to look up if you want, but which would sicken you to your very core.”
Blake paused to let this sink in. “All of this was against the backdrop of the Nazis gassing millions of innocent Jews to death. It was the ugliest stretch of years in human history—and Truman had the chance to end it once and for all.”
He shook his head. “So again, did he make the right call? It’s impossible to know for sure. There are any number of people today who think this was a clear war crime. And it probably was. But it was also likely to have been the right call, the unavoidable call.”
11
As Blake finished his analysis of the first and only use of an atomic bomb in anger, the room became absolutely silent. Everyone was both spellbound and horrified to be reminded of the extended carnage and barbarism that had taken place during humanity’s last world war, something certain elements of the species always seemed hungry to repeat.
Time Frame (Split Second Book 2) Page 5