Barking out a bitter laugh, Sheila buried her face in her hands.
"What's the alternative, Sheila?" Ali asked. "We all just sit here and die together? There is nothing good about this situation, nothing at all. But at least we have the chance to save some people."
"That's not going to absolve me of my guilt. That's not going to let me rationalize the fact that I had a hand in condemning thousands of others," she replied, her voice muffled.
"And you think it's any different for me, or for Liang?" Ali asked. His words sent a visible shudder through Sheila, who inhaled a deep, ragged breath before dropping her hands.
"Let's get started," she said, obviously trying to pull it together. Despite her apparent resolve, she could not keep her voice from cracking, and Liang turned his head away.
They spent the next several hours ranking Sheila's staff. There was no question that only those at the top of the list would be moved. Though Sheila had many capable people, they would need the best of the best.
"Do I have to keep doing this?" Sheila asked, once they'd reached the staffing limit for research and development. She sounded like she was on the verge of breaking down, and Liang opened his mouth to tell her she didn't need to go any further. Before he could speak, Ali broke in.
"Yes. I'm sorry, Sheila, but you have to. If anything happens in the interim, we'll need to know who's next in line," Ali said.
"Okay," she whispered.
Angrily, Liang shot him a dirty look, and Ali stared back with a stern, quelling expression on his face. Although he was twenty years Liang's senior, this was the first time Ali had ever made him feel like a child. Unable to bear it any longer, Liang got up and paced around the room for what seemed an eternity, as Ali and Sheila continued ranking her employees.
The moment they'd finished and Ali had sent the devastated Sheila out, Liang rounded on him. "Why did you have to do that to her? You saw her—she could barely keep it together. Why make her go through ranking the people who won't be going?"
"Liang, sit down," Ali said. His tone was patient but weary, and the fight went out of Liang. As he sat, Liang noticed that Ali's jaw was clenched, tension evident in every muscle in his face. "There are a few things you haven't considered."
"Like what?" Liang asked, rather belligerently.
"Like whether the top one thousand represent the best allocation of our resources."
"What do you mean by that?"
Ali sank into a chair as well, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There's a reason why I want a complete list of every employee and their family members. I know for a fact that at least two of Sheila's top staff have children with special needs and—"
"What the hell are you saying, Ali?" Liang recoiled in revulsion.
"Our resources will be limited," Ali sighed. "And Contributors' family members comprise the future staff of Zhang Agritech—or haven't you thought about that?"
"Of course I have! But—"
"Look, I know you've had to shoulder a lot at a young age. And if I were in your shoes, I'd also hate feeling like everyone is treating me like a kid. But you also need to acknowledge that people like me have experience, that we are going to have insight you haven't yet developed. It's not a knock on your age or your intelligence. It's just reality."
Stunned, Liang sat silently for several minutes, trying to process what Ali had said. "So, what you're telling me is, not only are we going to determine which of our staff gets to live and which has to die, we're also going to have some sort of…standard for whether they're worthy of living in the dome?"
"There's a difference between being cruel for the sake of being cruel and being cruel for the sake of being practical."
Liang shivered with disgust. He could no longer stand the sight of Ali's face, and he dropped his gaze to his hands, which were weaving jerky circles over the surface of the conference table.
"Let me put it to you this way," Ali said softly. "What if the resources required to keep one special needs child in good health could be spread amongst five other children? Are you going to choose saving that one child over saving the other five?"
As Ali's words penetrated his unwilling ears, Liang felt a growing sense of detachment from his body. The room, Ali, even his own body couldn't possibly be reality, because there was simply no way reality could have suddenly become so much worse. Was there?
Data
As Liang entered headquarters on the day of the research and development team's move, his palms began to sweat in anticipation of the morning report. Every time he looked at it the numbers swam before his eyes, mocking him with his own impotence.
Stomach churning, he scanned the data. The more he read, the more his nerves tingled with dread: despite everyone's best projections, they had failed to accurately estimate the scale of decline in the food supply. Even the direst of predictions had been too generous.
"Have the other Creators seen these numbers?" he whispered to Morris.
"Ms. du Clerc called another special meeting, at Magnum headquarters," Morris said. His face was shockingly gaunt. "I was just adding it to your calendar."
Numbly, Liang nodded and continued on into his office, where he sat in his chair and stared blankly at his monitor for several minutes. He wondered at which point a human being would simply shut down, unable to process any further bad news. Fortunately for him, that day had apparently not yet arrived, because he was somehow able to open his calendar and start thinking about what he would need to accomplish that day.
"Are you ready?" Morris asked a short while later, poking his head into the room.
No.
"Yes."
The ride over to the meeting was silent. Liang stared out the window, unable to believe that life was, for the most part, carrying on as usual. Haggard people thronged the streets, some wearing uniforms and hurrying toward Creator headquarters, while others—far, far too many others—simply stood along the streets trying to peddle whatever they could for food. In the distance he caught sight of the huge mansions sprawling behind high-security gates, gates that were monitored twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, year round. Those houses still had rolling expanses of emerald green lawn, though if he looked closely brown patches were visible here and there, evidence of the ever dwindling water supply and the subsequent increases in rationing.
A small ring of people milled restlessly behind barriers erected around Magnum's headquarters. A security detail stood with their hands folded in front of their waists, watching the crowds with impassive expressions. They wore sober uniforms and hats to protect their heads from the sun, and they were clearly armed. Shielding his eyes from the glare, Liang squinted up at the security posted on Magnum's roof.
"What's going on?" he asked Morris.
"I don't know anything official. But rumor has it there's some talk of protests, so security was called in as a deterrent."
Liang sighed and rubbed his aching temples as his car slid soundlessly through the Magnum security gate and into the secured underground parking garage. He stepped outside, examining the prototype transports parked nearby. Though most vehicles now ran on electric engines, the demands they placed on the power grid were too high, so they would be left behind in favor of Magnum's transports.
"Liang," Keiko greeted him, falling into step beside him. "You look as lousy as I feel."
Choking out a laugh, Liang glanced over at her. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
She tugged her sunglasses off, exposing red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes, and he couldn't help but wince. "Guess you're not getting anything out of me today, then," she said, noticing his reaction. The half-hearted tone of her voice made the attempt at levity fall flat.
"Have you begun your move?"
"Today," Keiko sighed. "Which is why I'd rather not be here right now."
"I know how you feel."
They halted their conversation as they passed through security. Magnum's ship was being run more tightly than usual, and it made him nervous about t
he state of Zhang's security. Morris had already read Liang's mind, because the assistant nodded once and tapped his earpiece, murmuring quietly to someone on the other end of the connection. Keiko's assistant stared straight ahead, his face a rigid mask.
"Do you know what this is about?" Keiko asked, her voice low, as they stepped into the elevator.
Studying her surreptitiously, Liang decided secrecy was pointless. She would find everything out soon enough. "The numbers are worse than we anticipated."
Her mouth falling open, Keiko's head swiveled toward him. "But I thought…"
"We all did," Liang replied, swiping a hand impatiently across his forehead.
Keiko closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before opening them again. "So it's even worse than we thought. If that's possible."
"Looks like it." He suddenly felt a desperate need to confide in someone, to say something that might help absolve him of even an iota of his guilt. "I don't understand it. We ran projection after projection, disaster scenario after disaster scenario. My teams have been working day and night for months. But no matter what…"
Laying a quelling hand on his forearm, Keiko looked up at him with a kind, serious expression. "There was nothing you could have done, Liang. Some people will want to blame you because it's easier than blaming themselves. But you couldn't have foreseen the rash of hurricanes, the droughts… The fact of the matter is, we all tried to beat nature into submission and now we'll all have to suffer the consequences."
Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Liang nodded. Her words lightened his load. He didn't feel free, not by a long shot, but at least now he felt it might be possible to bear the weight of his burden.
The elevator doors slid open, and they walked into the conference room together. Most of the Creators had already gathered, dividing themselves along the normal lines of alliance. Liang wondered how long all of this would last. Would the forced interdependency of life in the domes push them to learn how to work with one another and to cooperate in ways that might once have seemed impossible? He wondered how long it would take before they stopped deluding themselves that they had a choice.
As soon as the other Creators stepped through the door, Myles called the meeting to order. He looked more haggard than Liang had ever seen him.
"I know most of us have moves going on, so I'll cut right to the chase," Myles began. "The numbers are even worse than we thought." A murmur started up in the back of the room and Myles glared, immediately silencing the voices. "There's no time for blame. Despite our best projections and weather diagnostics, there were several weather events that we couldn't have anticipated, and they have all contributed to this situation. I've called this meeting to announce that we've stepped up production on the transports and will have them ready within two weeks. This will enable all of us to accelerate the move."
"Step up production? You were behind schedule to begin with," Ishani said.
Myles nodded. "We were, but thanks to Alliance assistance we've made up for lost time."
"Why the rush? Won't that cause more panic?" a minor Creator asked.
"I'm sure none of you failed to notice the group outside," Myles said, his voice sober but hiding a twinge of sarcasm. He was clearly aware that, though the world was falling apart and none of them were exempt, some Creators still took vicious satisfaction in the idea of the failure of another. "Well, I would suggest each of you increase your own security details."
Ishani looked indignant. "Are you suggesting that our own staff will begin protesting against us, after all we've done to provide for their needs?"
"People are starving in the streets," Sylvie said, her voice glacial as she stared down the other woman. "Do you expect them to just lay down and quietly die because it's more convenient for you?"
Though her expression was thunderous, Ishani didn't protest further. Instead, she made a gesture at her assistant, who slid over to a corner of the room, turning her back and placing a hand over her ear.
"Given the increasingly serious nature of the situation," Liang began, aiming for diplomacy, "do you honestly think we can continue to convince the public that we're merely conducting dome tests?"
"No, I don't," Sylvie answered. "Not indefinitely, anyway. I don't think I need to tell any of you that it behooves us all to continue with that particular charade for as long as possible."
"In the meantime, I suggest we arrange for our heads of security to have a meeting. It would be in everyone's interest to form a joint security task force in order to ensure the move goes as peacefully and safely as possible," Myles said.
"Done," Keiko said, pushing up from her seat and striding toward the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a move to supervise." It was obvious from her posture that she was angry, but whether this was with anyone in particular or just with the situation in general, it was impossible to say.
"As do I," Liang said, following her.
As Magnum's headquarters faded into the distance, he wondered if it was the last time he'd set eyes on it.
Protest
After the meeting Liang went directly to the Zhang dome. Though Ali was already there overseeing the move, Liang could not escape the conviction he needed to be there as well. He had a meeting scheduled that afternoon with the head of another of his divisions, and he tried not to think about the grueling hours ahead of him. Maybe seeing some of his staff move safely into the dome would help ease the agonizing guilt of spending the afternoon determining which of them would not have the same privilege.
"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away," Ali said, as Liang stepped from his car into the transport bay. There was a mixture of accusation and resignation in Ali's voice.
"You know it's not a statement about my faith in your abilities," Liang reminded him.
"I know." Ali sighed and surveyed the scene before them.
It was ordered chaos, people running around the transport bay unloading a mixture of personal belongings and Zhang equipment. Crying, bewildered children followed their parents through the bay doors into the dome proper, and Liang found himself studying them, mentally assessing where they'd someday fit within Zhang's structure. It made him feel a bit sick to think this way, but he knew he was also looking out for their well being. Everyone in the dome would have to contribute in some way. It was the only means of ensuring that resource distribution was fair.
"Any problems?" Liang asked.
"None so far, thankfully."
"The numbers are worse than we thought, and the other Creators want our security heads to meet and form a joint task force."
Ali looked taken aback by the words, but recovered quickly. "Matthews is outside, supervising the entry checkpoint."
Liang nodded. "I'll speak to him on my way out."
"Shit," Ali swore quietly, his composure slipping.
"Yep," Liang agreed.
"Sometimes I wonder how I even manage to get out of bed in the morning."
"You're not alone in that."
"Is that better or worse than developing a hero complex and feeling good about the people I am saving?"
"I'll let you know when and if I figure that out," Liang sighed. He stood there for a few more moments watching the orderly procession of cars, moving equipment, and people before he reluctantly admitted he couldn't do anything more there. "I'd better be on my way. If you need anything, or if something happens, call me immediately. I don't care what I'm in the middle of."
"Of course," Ali said. He opened the car door, holding it as Liang and Morris slipped inside. "I'll probably stay here tonight, just to be sure everything runs smoothly."
Liang nodded and Ali closed the door. As they pulled out, Liang glanced behind him and saw Ali staring at the car.
They made a brief stop so Liang could tell Matthews about the meeting. A curt man, Matthews was tall and built like a mountain of granite, his hair a bristle of graying brown. Every time Liang talked to the man he expected Matthews to salute, though this never happened.
Still, Liang found Matthews's serious military bearing reassuring, and he left the dome feeling the security details were in the best hands possible.
The afternoon passed in a blur of names and numbers and, though he tried his best to fight it, Liang sometimes lost sight of the fact that they were talking about people. It was not that he was growing indifferent. It was simply that, after a while, his brain began to shut down, and the only way to cope with the necessity of what he was doing was to allow himself to become at least somewhat detached from it.
His relief at the end of the meeting was so overwhelming it left him feeling light-headed. The day was far from over, but at least now he could take a break and pick his sister up from school. She was there working late on a project and had told him she could get home perfectly well by herself, thanks, but he ignored her protests and insisted.
He wasn't so much picking her up for her own sake—though that was certainly a large part of his motivations. The closer the move deadline loomed, the more he had to fight the urge to keep Mei around him at all times. He doubted she would appreciate the offense to her autonomy, but he worried incessantly whenever she wasn't in his sight. It was becoming hard to remember that things hadn't always been this way.
"How'd it go?" he asked, as she slid into the backseat with him. Their driver waited until Mei was safely buckled before making his way through the streets.
"Fine," Mei barked, her expression mulish.
"Mei Mei," Liang sighed. "Would you stop acting like I'm taking you off to the dungeon?"
"I will, as soon as you stop treating me like a baby," she shot back.
His temper flared, though he fought to keep it in check. Pressing a button, he raised the privacy screen between them and the driver. "In case you haven't noticed, things aren't a vacation around here." He was unable to keep the edge from his voice, and he noticed a flicker of guilt in Mei's eyes.
"That's exactly why you didn't need to pick me up. I know you were up all night last night. You have better things to do than babysit me."
Creators (A Contributor Trilogy prequel novella) Page 3