Anger flicked across Johnson’s face.
“I’m not verifying or denying the statement, but I can tell you that when meetings are held, at the cabinet level or otherwise, I encourage ideas and suggestions for solutions. Everyone freely expresses their viewpoints.” The president slammed a forefinger onto the podium. “I simply will not tolerate yes men or women in my administration.”
Pickens followed up.
“So, with all the concern about food shortages, can you tell us what solutions were recommended?”
Johnson arched his arm up, pointing to the back of the reporter pool.
“Leslie?”
Young and new to the position, Leslie White scurried out of her chair.
“Uh, thank you, Mr. President. I, I wanted to ask you about the infrastructure bill that is being debated on the Hill. Do you think there is enough funding in its present state to address the nation’s crumbling roads?”
“Well, Leslie, we’d like Congress to open the purse strings to bring our infrastructure into the twenty-first century. You all know I worked closely with President Baxter, and we made excellent progress, upgrading thousands of bridges that were in serious disrepair. But with that done, there’s more work to be done, for example, with our airports.”
Johnson rambled on, eating the clock up on the softball question. When he finished, he said, “Only one more, please.” He singled out a friendly face. “Matt.”
CNN correspondent Matt Borel had covered the White House for a decade, almost always in a favorable light.
“Mr. President, can you comment on reports that your administration is about to introduce legislation outlawing fertility regimens, including artificial insemination?”
Another flash of anger moved across Johnson’s face before he recovered from what he felt was an ambush.
“Matt, you’ve been around long enough to know that legislation originates in the House.”
The CNN reporter nodded and said, “Of course.”
The president waved to the pool and headed for the door as Borel continued, “But our Capitol Hill correspondent reports that the initiative, well, he actually termed it a directive, came from the White House.”
Johnson stopped before going out the door and glared over his shoulder at the CNN reporter.
***
Garland entered the Oval Office, surprised the president was alone.
“Good morning, Mr. President.”
“Just find me something good about it, okay.”
“How can I help?”
Johnson pulled himself out of his chair, came around his desk and settled onto a blue sofa.
“Sit down, Pete.”
“Thank you, sir.” Garland sat across from the president in a matching love seat.
“When it rains, it fucking pours,” Johnson said. “I don’t know how much you know, but the crap finally caught up with Mulroney.”
Garland knew Johnson’s chief of staff had steered several contracts to his brother-in-law’s firm but wasn’t volunteering anything.
“Oh, really? That’s unfortunate.”
“I knew he was greedy, but he’d promised me there’d be no damn shenanigans. Guess most men have high and low tides.”
“Not all men, sir. Only the weak ones.”
Johnson smoothed his tie. “I hope you’re right, Pete, I really do.”
“We’ve got to believe that, sir.”
Johnson nodded.
“Anyway, Mulroney’s resigning, and I’d like you to take the position.”
“I’d be honored to serve, sir.”
“You know I always liked the way you handled things for Baxter, but I had to make some changes around here, otherwise, hell, you know better than me.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. Now, you and Mulroney will have to get together today before the announcement. This has got to be seamless.”
Garland nodded.
“His wife just gave birth, let’s use the family angle in the resignation press release. By the time the story about his brother-in-law hits, we’ll have some space from him.”
Johnson smiled. “Okay, get to work, and thanks for coming aboard.”
“My pleasure, but before I go, I’d like to make a suggestion on this population problem.”
“Go ahead.”
“You’ve got to stop the bleeding—and fast. I know about the proposed fertility idea, and though I agree with it, you’re going to take heat for it, and it won’t change anything. If you’re going to take arrows, let it be over something that gets us somewhere.”
Johnson said, “You’re probably right. What do you suggest?”
Garland sat back. “A restriction on births.”
“Restriction? Are you crazy, Pete?”
“Just hear me out, sir. Remember, China had the one-child policy. They took some heat originally, but you know what? It worked, and they backed off when their population started aging.”
“They’ll call me a dictator if I ask for something like that. Besides, I’m uncomfortable with the idea.”
“I understand you may be uncomfortable, sir, but we’ve got to do something. Our birth rate is a tad over two right now. We’ve got to cut it in half. It’ll buy us some time to figure things out.”
Johnson wagged his head. “It’s a radical idea.”
“I really don’t think so. If we said no births at all, which is frankly what we should be doing, that may be pushing it.”
Johnson sighed. “I’m not prepared at this point to do something like this.”
“I understand, sir. Just contemplate it, though. That’s all I ask, because the pressure for action is intensifying, and we’re running out of time.”
***
Jack looked down Sixth Avenue in search of a cab. Across the street a woman with a shopping cart of groceries had her arm up, trying to hail a taxi as well. As he contemplated moving to another corner, two men rushed the lady and shoved her to the ground. Jack yelled out as the men grabbed the bags in the cart and took off.
Dashing through the traffic, Jack knelt by the woman, whom he estimated was about seventy. The crying woman had blood oozing from a cut on her cheek.
“Here, let me help you sit up.”
“Where’s my groceries?”
“I’m afraid they’ve been stolen.”
“Oh no! Call the police!”
“Those thieves are long gone.”
“What’ll I do now?”
Jack pressed his handkerchief against her cheek. “Everything’s gonna be okay, just thank God you’re not hurt badly.”
“Yeah, I’ll thank God all right. What did he do for me? How can he let this happen to me?”
As the woman complained, Jack noticed a police car stopped at the light and sprinted over.
“Officer, a woman was just mugged right over there. They took her groceries.”
“What would you like us to do about it?”
“Aren’t you going to help her? Look for who stole them?”
“Look, whoever did it disappeared already. We’ll never catch them, and even if we did, the system will probably let them go.”
“So you’re going to do nothing?”
“Look, we stopped following up on food thefts. There’s just too many of them. If the woman’s okay, just let it go.”
The police car pulled away as Jack muttered, “Great, just great.”
He went back to the woman and helped her get up.
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not! What I’m going to eat? Prices are out of control. I just spent my entire Social Security check on what they stole.”
Jack dug into his pocket. “I don’t have much on me, but I can spare you forty dollars.”
The woman snatched the money from Jack’s hand without saying thank you. She grabbed the handle of her cart and headed back to the grocery store.
Watching her disappear into the store, Jack realized he was the only one who had
stopped to help her. As he hailed a cab to make an appearance on A Closer Look, Jack wondered whether he should have even gotten involved.
***
Dr. Medev, head of the psychology department at NYU, was in the dressing room when Jack arrived.
“How are you, Jack?”
“A little unsettled at the moment. On the way here I witnessed an old lady get mugged, in broad daylight. She was coming out of Foodrite and these two men just bowled her over and ran off with her groceries.”
“Was she hurt?”
“Just a little banged up, but the weird thing was she was, I don’t know, ungrateful that I’d stopped to help her. She didn’t even thank me for the money I gave her.”
“I’m afraid it’s a form of anxiety people are feeling at the lack of control, governmental and societal, to solve the problems we face.”
“You’re not kidding. I stopped a police car and they basically didn’t want to get involved.”
Dr. Medev said, “A fundamental change in psychology has occurred. Keep in mind that with the elimination of death, people no longer experience the ultimate sadness that comes from the loss of a loved one. That emotional low point is the well that feeds our humanity, our concern for others. It provides a basis for sympathy and empathy.”
“Wow. That’s so interesting, Doctor. It makes so much sense. If we lose our compassion, we’ll lose our civility. We become calloused.”
“Precisely.”
“Doc, can I quote you on that? It’s something I can use in a piece.”
Medev nodded. “Psychology aside, it’s important to understand that the phenomenon causing the population explosion is simply an acceleration of what’s been happening in slow motion.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Consider the fact that pandemics, like the 1918 flu pandemic and the bubonic plague, both of which killed millions, played significant roles in keeping population growth under control.”
“It’s amazing how devastating they were. The Black Death wiped out something like a third of Europe’s population. I’m pretty sure the plague killed north of thirty million, and the influenza pandemic over fifty million.”
“Close, but my point is that, for the most part, pandemics, by virtue of scientific discoveries like vaccines and antibiotics, have been cancelled out. Pandemics are no longer the natural governors on population growth.”
“What you’re saying vis-à-vis fast forwarding is that we would’ve got to this point anyway, it just would have taken us a longer time.”
“Maybe, but the extra time and slower progression would have allowed us to find incremental solutions to the problems of population growth. Now, I’m afraid we need a moon shot.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jack watched the broadcast of New York Governor Jack Morris addressing the shortage of food in the northwestern part of the state. A split screen displayed people lined up for blocks and armed guards protecting the supermarkets in the area. The governor explained the hardships of the people there, and then dropped a shock bomb.
“My fellow New Yorkers, we cannot allow our fellow citizens to suffer any further. We are called to take action. This morning, I signed an executive order to provide relief to the children, women, and men who are suffering.”
Jack leaned toward the TV as the governor continued.
“This order will enable us to share the resources that the City of New York has with the rest of this great state. I had hoped that those who supply and distribute food would have risen to the challenge, but, alas, they did not. Therefore, I was forced to act, ordering the largest food cooperative in the state, Shoprite Supermarkets, to divert some food destined for New York City to our neighbors in the northwestern part of our state. I regret having to take these temporary measures and will rescind them as soon as possible. Thank you.”
Jack stared at the screen as a commentator mentioned that the unprecedented interference in private commerce was on shaky legal ground since the governor hadn’t declared a state of emergency. Jack listened to a pair of opposing legal opinions before the station cut away to a reporter on the steps of city hall.
“Dan Brown, live at city hall. We’ve asked the mayor to comment on the governor’s action and were given a written statement.” The reporter read it: “‘Mayor Gilmore supports the governor’s efforts to alleviate the hardships of those upstate. However, the mayor’s office does not believe interfering in private commerce is the proper response. Disrupting distribution patterns that have met the needs of New Yorkers for decades places the city’s residents needlessly at risk. The mayor is evaluating his options, including a possible legal challenge to the directive.’” The reporter looked into the camera. “Now let’s get some reaction to the governor’s executive order from those gathering here.”
As the camera panned a small but growing contingent of people, Jack picked up the phone.
“Laura, I’m heading downtown, to city hall. Grab a cameraman and meet me in front of the Woolworth Building.”
Jack exited the Fulton Street subway exit and smacked into a throng of protesters on Broadway. Forcing his way through the crowd, Jack headed north, scouting for Laura as he snaked his way through the sea of people.
Ducking inside the Woolworth Building’s lobby, Jack waited a few minutes as the crowd extended across Broadway to Park Row and north to city hall. He heard the crowd begin to chant but Jack couldn’t make it out behind the doors. Jack cracked the door open and heard a chorus of “Hell no! We won’t let our food go.”
Jack stepped back into the foyer as his phone buzzed. He checked to see if it was Laura, but it was his grandmother. He declined the call, pulled out his press credentials and hung them around his neck. Nose to the glass, Jack stood on his toes, scanning for his wife, when he heard her voice. Jack breathed a sigh of relief when he turned and saw his wife with a cameraman.
Jack embraced Laura. “Thank God.” He shook the cameraman’s hand, saying, “I was getting worried. This crowd is getting riled up.”
Laura said, “Tell me about it. We had to come in by the Barclay Street entrance.”
Shifting his camera, Bill said, “How do you want to play this? I’d love to get an overview of the crowd.”
“We’ve got to get to city hall. Let’s interview some of these protesters and see if there’s anyone leading this. If we can get to the stairs, you’ll have the chance to get a shot of the crowd from above. If not, we’ll jump into an office building that overlooks City Hall Park.”
“We can’t get onto any of the roofs. There’s no observation deck that I know of around here.”
“I’ll knock on an office or two. Believe me, I’ll get us in. What would you like, a shot out of a sixth-floor window, or maybe a seventh?” Jack said.
Laura said, “Don’t be so full of yourself, Jack.”
“Just kidding. Okay, put your credentials on and let’s get going. We gotta stick together.”
Jack grabbed Laura’s hand, made sure Bill was right behind her, and stepped into the mayhem. They waded across the sidewalk and stepped onto Broadway, where surrounded cars moved slower than a slug. The trio zigged and zagged around the cars and onto the sidewalk bordering the southern tip of the park.
Jack tightened his grip on Laura’s hand, lowered his shoulder, and dived into the crowd, shouting, “Make way for the press. Make way, please.”
His plea was drowned out by the chanting crowd, and the flesh wall quickly stopped the trio in their tracks. Jack huddled with the others.
“Bill, get the camera ready and put the lights on. Laura, get the mic set up. We’re gonna do an interview right here.”
Jack tapped the shoulder of a fiftyish man in a gray suit.
“Excuse me, sir, I’m Jack Amato with the AP. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure. Why not?”
Jack jotted down the man’s details and said, “Okay, let’s switch places. Bill, can you get us okay?”
The cameram
an nodded and adjusted his lens. Laura handed the mic to Jack and counted down, “Three, two, one. Ready.”
“Jack Amato, live from City Hall Park, where a spontaneous gathering has broken out in reaction to the governor’s executive order. We’re with Larry Leppo, of Garden City. Larry, what brought you here today?”
“I was at work at Morgan Stanley, down at Sixty-One Broadway, and we have TVs going all the time, monitoring the markets and the news. Well, I’ll tell you, when the governor made that outrageous speech, the place went nuts.”
“How did you hear about the governor’s action to divert the food supply?”
“I was in my office, on the phone with a good client. I have two TVs in my office, but I don’t keep the sound on. It’s just too distracting. I heard a growing chorus of voices and immediately checked the news feed. After all these years, it felt like something was happening. Sure enough, the headline on the news banner was about the diversion.”
The crowd around Jack noticed the reporting in progress and turned its attention to the interview.
“What was your initial reaction?”
“At first, I didn’t see any problem. I mean, it sounded reasonable to share. But then I got nervous. I mean, we need that food here. We’ve got like thirty million people to feed around here.”
“How did the people in your office react?”
“They got angry quickly. People were cursing and yelling. Management had to make an announcement over the system to calm things down.”
“Can you tell us why you came down here?”
A puzzled look spread over the man’s face. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I can answer that. Someone said there was a protest forming at city hall, and I just kinda followed everyone here. It seems like the right thing to do. We can’t let that damn Gilmore push us around.”
Jack ended the interview.
“You get that?”
Bill flashed a thumbs-up. “Oh yeah, it’s a nice clip, especially with the background.”
“Good, come on, I think we can get closer now.”
The horde gave way a bit, allowing the journalists to snake closer until the crowd thickened, halting the trio’s progress about a hundred feet from city hall. A double line of police, most outfitted in riot gear, ringed the edifice. Jack scanned the front of the crowd but couldn’t locate anyone who seemed to be a leader. Laura leaned in, whispering in Jack’s ear, “This is weird, everyone is just so, so normal looking. Every other protest we go to has a bunch of lunatics leading the charge.”
The Final Enemy Page 10