APOCALYPSE 2073 Omnibus

by Parker James

  “Mr. President, I have Dr. Wilkins on the line. Would a 10am (she suddenly caught herself), would a 1000 video conference tomorrow with the doctor be alright after your 0800 meeting in the control room?”

  “Perfect, Margaret. Tell him I’ve been reading his reports and look forward to speaking with him. I have two other things to ask of you,” the President added.

  “Yes, Mr. President?”

  “Could you please have Dr. Pearson sent in here immediately, but more importantly would you mind terribly getting me another cup of coffee?”

  Margaret smiled.

  “Not at all, Mr. President. Coming right up.”

  As Margaret soon returned to the President’s office with his cup of coffee he was deep in thought as he continued to pour through reports on his computer monitor. Margaret entered quietly, almost tip toing as she spoke. “Be careful now, it’s still very hot. Dr. Pearson will be here momentarily, Sir.”

  “Thank you, Margaret,” he replied as she once again returned to her own office and sat at her desk outside of the Oval Office. She was becoming lost in her work, thankfully. It was the impetus she needed to take her mind off of her recent loss, but her relationship with her husband was a sound and loving one and those memories would forever remain. By dedicating herself to the work at hand it gave her solace despite the direness of the situation, and the President’s absolute determination was giving her the added strength she needed as well. She could only pray that when Washington was hit her husband went quickly and without suffering. And so she continued her work, scheduling the President’s many meetings, receiving phone calls and status report updates from General McCreary, and passing on the many messages received in order of priority. She was highly intelligent and unconditionally trusted by the man in the other room; President Jason Andrews.

  “Computer. Staffing level breakdown; medical personnel; Bunker Site 1. Include breakdown by area of expertise; descending order,” President Andrews said to the machine before him. As commanded the computer religiously did as it was told, a chart instantaneously appearing upon the monitor as directed.

  Again the chair; resting. And the inevitable hand massaging his weary eyes. So he spoke somewhat louder to his secretary in the outer office.

  “Margaret, is Dr. Pearson here yet?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir. She is.”

  “Please send her in,” he responded.

  President Andrews had known Dr. Emma Pearson for a great deal of time. Specializing in Pediatrics she had in fact delivered both of his two children several years earlier, despite the fact that she had risen to overall Administrator at Walter Reed Hospital. After all, it was the President and First Lady. Their relationship continued despite the fact that with her new responsibilities she was no longer a practicing physician yet always found the time to give his two daughters their necessary physicals and treatment when they were ailing with the normal childhood diseases. Now she was in charge of all medical operations within Bunker Site 1. Andrews unexpectedly rose as she entered.

  “Emma, so glad to see you,” he said as she arrived.

  He walked over to her and gave her a big hug, having the utmost respect for her talent as both a physician and a supreme organizer.

  “Sit, Emma. Please. I’ve been looking over our medical staffing levels within the bunkers. I see excluding the technical staff dedicated to the Conyers’ suspension chamber operations you have approximately 200 medical personnel available within each bunker; approximately 1,900 in total. I know you’ve been briefed completely on what has unfortunately occurred. Later on today I shall be breaking the very dire news during my Presidential Address and would like to ask some advice of you, and your opinions.”

  “By all means, Mr. President,” Emma responded.

  “First I’ll summarize without stating what has been wrought upon this country and the planet as a whole. Again, I am aware that you have been briefed fully on the utter devastation wrought upon this nation. This is the news I have to break to our citizens this evening. I have a number of concerns regarding how that information will be accepted; not only on a security level but also on a psychological level as well. At the moment there are approximately 700,000 plus individuals contained within this bunker grouping, over 80,000 of those who were let in as the war initially broke out. May I ask how they are faring?”

  “As best as can be expected, Mr. President. Some were near starvation when they first arrived. For the moment our hospital facilities are full, but we’re making due. Most will be discharged within a week’s time. We’ve lost a number of our recent arrivals who were in very poor condition. Not a large number, but some. We did the best we could but some were simply too far gone. For the most part the majority of those within the hospital and infirmary are being brought back to health gradually. We’ve done a bit of triage; it’s quite amazing what one single meal can do when you haven’t eaten for several days. Other than that we have a number of individuals with more serious ongoing health issues. They’ll have to be treated continuously and won’t be fit for the chambers. They’ll live out their lives here.”

  “And how is your staff holding up?” Andrews asked further.

  “They’re professionals, Sir. They’re on autopilot, doing what needs to be done. Most can go three days without sleep. They’ve learned that simple fact of life during their residencies; they’ve earned their stripes. May I ask a question of you, Jason?”

  They’d known each other for a very long time and President Andrews under the circumstances did not take offense with Emma’s sudden over familiarity.

  “You may, Emma,” he responded with no animosity in his voice that she could detect.

  “How many were lost, Jason?”

  President Andrews looked down, Emma not missing the sadness on his face when he once again looked up in response to her question. Dr. Emma Pearson had dealt with death her entire life as a physician on almost a daily basis, especially these past several years as things had deteriorated so dramatically. Sometimes she even wondered as an administrator whether she could secure the simple medications that would save one single life just by having it on hand. These were the choices that she had been faced with daily. As so many in her chosen profession she had developed an immunity and emotional detachment unfortunately so often required simply for the sake of self-preservation. She had sacrificed many relationships; in fact her entire possibility of a personal life and happiness through her sheer dedication to treating those within her care. Andrews having looked up met her gaze as he stared directly into her eyes. She understood right then and there.

  “Millions, Emma. Billions.”

  President Andrews said no more, never having turned away. They were now birds of a feather, yet on an entirely different scale.

  She would be silent now as the words had sunk in. Emma had known for a number of years that this was eventually coming, yet a briefing was one thing; hearing it from a person she had known and trusted for so many years and holding such a high office was an entirely different matter. She herself then went on “autopilot,” trusting in Jason Andrews and his reason for her being called into the Oval Office. She would await his questions. She didn’t need to wait very long.

  “Emma, I’m concerned that during my address this news will have a terrible effect on our citizens. What are your thoughts on the matter?” he asked.

  “Well, Mr. President, most of those already within the bunkers were somewhat emotionally prepared for this eventuality. The 80,000 or so let in prior to the outbreak of the war have also known for a very long time that this was a possibility. But possibilities are one thing and the reality of it is an entirely different matter.”

  President Andrews interjected.

  “Emma, I’m concerned that during the address we could have a potential panic on our hands. Possibly even a riot. The address will be given in the Atrium and go out to all of the other bunkers. How many medical personnel can you spare to be on site later during the address?”


  “I believe perhaps we can spare 100 or so medical personnel within each bunker should we have any medical issues arise,” she responded.

  “Good. I think the presence of your people will have a calming effect. I’d like you to have them dressed in their medical garb so their presence isn’t overlooked. I want our people to know without one single doubt that we’re here to help and our survival is a joint effort. We only have each other to count on.”

  “I think, Jason, most were subconsciously prepared for this eventuality, especially once North and South Korea were destroyed and the war in Asia broke out. That’s why those local citizens who had knowledge of the bunkers flocked here in the first place. They knew what was coming in their gut and from what I’ve been able to determine from those within our medical facilities they’re aware that something terrible has occurred. Hearing it firsthand from you will be a different matter. It will all suddenly become real.”

  “Do you think, Emma, we have the possibility of a mass panic or even a mass riot on our hands once this news breaks?” Andrews asked.

  “It’s a possibility, Jason. I think a panic very well could happen more so on the part of the new arrivals, but a riot is less likely. I’d even say fairly remote. You have to remember that most of our citizens in the bunkers have been here for many months knowing of this possible eventuality and have emotionally come to terms with it. The rest will be up to you.”

  “Very well then, Emma. Thank you for your input.”

  President Andrews called out to Margaret who soon arrived in the Oval Office. He quickly glanced at his watch; 1200 hours. The morning seemed to have flown by as he was engulfed in his research. The Presidential Address would be at 1800 hours, the second conference with the other Bunker Site Commanders scheduled for 1400 hours.

  “Yes, Mr. President?”

  “Margaret, please put in a call to General McCreary in the control room. Have him notify the other Bunker Site Commanders as well as the Joint Chiefs that the 1400 conference has been moved up to 1230 hours and also advise him that Dr. Pearson and myself shall be there shortly. Also have the Conyers’ meet us there as well.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” Margaret responded as she went about her task.

  Dr. Pearson and the President had a few more minutes before they would depart as the Bunker Site Commanders and Joint Chiefs would pull themselves away from the tasks that they were performing and soon assemble in the control room for the rescheduled conference.

  “Jason, may I ask what you are going to say during your address?”

  “Emma, I’ll let you know as soon as I know. I’m going to be honest with our citizens. I think they deserve that much. Better to tell the truth as we know it. How do you sugarcoat what has occurred? No, there will be nothing withheld. There’s no prepared speech.”

  “That would have been my recommendation,” Emma replied.

  “Very well then, Emma,” the President said as he rose from his chair. “Let’s go take a walk.”

  They arrived within the control room in less than a minute, Agent Phillips and another Secret Service Agent close in tow with President Andrews and Dr. Pearson. After greeting General McCreary the President looked over Professor Enghult’s shoulder watching him continue to monitor the ongoing assessment of the reactors as well as the radiation levels in the recently repaired outer blast doors in bunkers 13 and 17. The repairs had been fully completed and Enghult was just keeping an eye on them for now. Over the next several minutes the Conyers’ arrived from their lab facilities on level 19 as the Joint Chiefs filed in one by one. President Andrews walked the control room silently, looking over the banks of computers and work stations specifically dedicated to one task or another. He then turned to General McCreary and already knowing the answer decided to ask his question anyway.

  “Any sign of drones yet from NORAD, Phil?”

  “No, Mr. President.”

  The Joint Chiefs were silent seeing that the President was deep in thought and none would interrupt him with any questions whatsoever. It seemed that this conference would not be a conference in the typical sense; it would be a set of directives on the President's part. Looking at his watch and seeing that it was now 1230 hours Andrews turned to the Corporal manning the Communications Console.

  “Corporal, turn on the monitor if you will,” he said.

  Doing as ordered 20 faces, each seemingly becoming more familiar and recognizable as time passed magically appeared upon the screen.

  “Gentlemen, thank you for your attendance. Before I start may I ask if there are any situations within any of the bunkers that require our immediate attention?”

  President Andrews gave them a moment; none of the 20 Bunker Site Commanders responded as all seemed to presently be under control for the moment.

  “Very well, then. As you can see Dr. Pearson is here with us today and we have just been discussing the Presidential Address which will occur at 1800 hours this evening. We’ve discussed a number of matters related to the possible reaction on the part of our citizens once made aware of the situation that has occurred. The Address is to take place in the main Atrium of Bunker Site 1 with the following in attendance. General McCreary and all of the Joint Chiefs, Professors Enghult and the Conyers, Dr. Pearson, myself, the First Lady, and my children as well. Our citizens will be fully informed of what has occurred. There are two issues of concern, one being security and the second being psychological reaction to the news of what has occurred. To that end I would like you to do the following. One, Chief of Staff Rodriguez will coordinate security issues, and secondly Dr. Pearson has assured me that she can spare approximately 100 medical personnel and dispatch them to each of the Atriums within your own bunkers. Each of you are to be within the Atrium while the address occurs. Military presence is to be visible yet disarming. Your primary goal is to maintain order no matter what occurs. Should any situation arise you are to inform us immediately. Barring that our third conference for the day will be postponed until 2100 hours. Are there any questions?”

  There were none.

  “Very well, Gentlemen. Andrews out.”

  The Corporal shut off the monitor as the President then turned to the Joint Chiefs.

  “Gentlemen, we are to assemble in the conference room adjoining the Oval Office at 1730; full dress uniform. Professors Conyers’ as well as Dr. Pearson, you are to be dressed in medical lab coats. Dr. Pearson, you are to consult with your medical personnel within each of the other bunkers immediately and institute the plans discussed earlier. This meeting is adjourned.”

  All of those within the control room removed themselves quietly while the President remained behind for a short time to consult with General McCreary and Professor Enghult on the repair and assessment efforts on the power generation units. General McCreary then asked the President what he would say during his address.

  “Phil, if I knew that I’d tell you.”

  McCreary understood. “How does one tell over 700,000 people that the world as they know it has ended? That most of their families in all likelihood no longer exist and those that may have escaped the nuclear holocaust will in all likelihood not survive on the surface for very long? Without saying anything more the President removed himself to his quarters with much on his mind. More than most could bear. Several hours had passed, the Presidential Address getting ever so closer. The President and his wife Linda were thankful that their two daughters being only three and five years of age were perhaps too young to fully understand what their father would tell those within the bunkers in a very short period of time. All they asked of Rebecca and Marissa was that they remain strong for their father’s sake and no matter what occurred during their father’s address was that they did not cry. They had been in front of large crowds many times before during their short time on this earth having known no other home but the White House. It was how they had grown up and being in front of large crowds just seemed normal to them. For that sake they would not be nervous. Yet despite that L
inda had determined that she would hold both of their hands throughout the address, one on each side of her slightly behind her husband. As the time neared President Andrews took a long hot shower in preparation for the address. The water cascaded over him seeming to soothe him as a myriad of thoughts continued to run through his mind. Earlier Margaret had been informed of his whereabouts and held down the fort within the Oval Office, deciding to not interrupt him unless absolutely imperative. After drying off he went to his closet and picked out a conservative suit; he would dress impeccably. Linda had decided to similarly dress in a conservative manner and dressed their daughters as well. They would present an image of strength without arrogance. Marissa in a red dress, Rebecca would be dressed in black. It was now 1700 and the First Family in Bunker Site 1 was ready and solemnly departed their quarters for the Oval Office. In half an hour the Joint Chiefs and the others who would be with them on the podium would soon arrive. Marissa and Rebecca found the time to play on the blue carpet that they loved so much within the Oval Office, but it was not the original one they had known. That was destroyed when Washington was destroyed. Yet it didn’t matter, they couldn’t tell the difference as the office was an exact duplicate of the one they had known. Linda sat quietly as they played, glad for them and the happiness of youth, yet she was also sad at the same time not knowing what the future would hold for them. President Andrews walked out to Margaret’s office outside of his own.