“I was thinking the same thing. I can’t put my finger on it, but it just feels off.”
“I’m scared, Jack. Let’s get outta here.”
“No, we can’t, not yet.”
“Why not? It’s dangerous.”
Jack squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, stay next to me. We’ll be okay, I promise.”
Jack and his small crew were standing in a trampled flower bed when he began his second interview with a gray-haired woman.
“We’re at city hall, and as you can see there is a large and boisterous protest over Governor Gilmore’s decision to divert food from the city. We’re speaking with Cheryl Limon, of Manhattan. How did you learn of the governor’s action, and what made you come down to city hall?”
“Well, I work part-time as a crossing guard, keeping an eye on the kids during lunch at the school on Greenwich Street. I live in Tribeca, and I’ve got two grandchildren who attend the school.”
“And how did you hear about the protest?”
“Well, when the kids are all in class, me and the other guards grab coffee and wait for lunch in the teachers’ lounge. They have a TV in there, and we all heard it, what that Gilmore said. We were speechless. We were all talking about it when someone from the union came in and said people were going down to pressure the mayor.”
Jack noticed smoke rising a couple of hundred feet over the lady’s shoulder and heard sirens drawing nearer. He pointed it out to the cameraman, who widened his stance to steady the camera. Laura mouthed a plea to leave as Jack asked his next question.
“Do you think this will help?”
“It better How can he do such a thing? You know that Gilmore, he’s from upstate, so he’s protecting his own, and that’s just not right.”
“There’s heavy smoke coming from around Broadway and Warren Street, and I’m sure our viewers can hear the sirens in the background.” As Jack was jostled by the throng, Laura reached out for her husband, who said, “It’s getting chaotic here. The crowd is surging. We’re going to have to end it here.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lights flashing, a black Expedition carrying two passengers sped on Division Street toward downtown Chicago.
The mayor moaned, “Jesus Christ! Will you look at all that smoke?”
His longtime assistant said, “I hate to say it, sir, but this looks bad, real bad.”
“What in the hell do they think they’re gonna accomplish by burning the city to the ground?”
“I’m not letting them off the hook, but the people are frustrated.”
“Who the hell isn’t? Is setting the damn place on fire gonna solve anything?” The mayor coughed, “Shut the damn window up there!”
The driver replied, “Sorry, Your Honor.”
The assistant said, “You think we should ask the governor to send in the guard?”
“At this point I don’t know what to do.”
The SUV slowed down and was waved through a police blockade on LaSalle. The smoke thickened as they approached Bellevue. The driver took a call and said, “We can’t go any further than Delaware. Fire department says it’s too dangerous.”
A trio of police cars greeted the Expedition as it came to a halt on Bellevue. The mayor got out, and a fireman clad in sixty pounds of gear pulled his gloves off and offered a hand.
“Mr. Mayor, Captain Ferguson, Firehouse Twenty-Three.”
The mayor nodded. “It looks like it’s raining fire. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“The wind is making an already bad situation extremely dangerous. These embers are already responsible for at least four fires, none major yet.”
“Captain, I know it’s tough, but can you summarize this for me?”
“Presently, this a four alarmer, but we’re responding as if it were a six alarmer as the spread rate is somewhat concerning.”
“Good, good. What’s the plan?”
“We’re attacking from the east, looking to contain this to a ten-block area from Chestnut to the Chicago River and from Main to Lake Michigan.”
The mayor silently leaned against his Expedition.
“You all right, sir?” Ferguson asked.
The mayor exhaled, “I didn’t realize the scope was so large. Is there any way we can limit things?”
“We’re gonna fight this SOB with everything we’ve got. If we catch a break with this wind, we might be able to contain it within a smaller footprint.”
“Is there anything you need?”
“Just some luck, Your Honor.”
The mayor climbed back in his SUV, and before they started moving, said, “Get the governor on the line. I want the Guard down here now.”
“Sure. Also the White House called to say the vice president’s on his way.”
“I’m going to hit the Feds up hard for funding. I don’t have a clue what this is gonna cost, but this is a disaster.”
***
Garland smelled curry as he flung his jacket on the couch and cleared the top of his ornate desk. The meeting to create a media campaign had run late and his dinner had been delivered an hour ago. He missed going to the high-profile restaurants where he was considered a major player and treated as such.
The Thai food was cold but, too busy to eat all day, he tucked into it with vigor. It had been a hectic day, but Garland felt partially satisfied with the progress he had orchestrated. The big wins were the president getting behind mobilizing the National Guard and the passage of the new crime bill. He’d pressed for weeks and finally pushed the ball over the line. The people had to know who was in charge, otherwise there would no way out of the mess.
Garland was thankful that another unexpected event, this time a violent outbreak in Chicago, helped seal the deal a month earlier than he had planned.
Garland knew it was all about messaging. The World Summit on Population fit the propaganda category perfectly and would provide a nice distraction for the press. Garland also knew the Vertical Farming project’s goal to turn the floors in skyscrapers into produce production would capture the people’s attention, and he had the agriculture secretary scheduled to spread the word on the Sunday morning news shows.
A decent day, Garland mused, but he was frustrated that he hadn’t advanced his restriction of births idea. Closing fertility clinics was just pulling a few grass blades out of the lawn. He’d begun planting that idea as a stepping stone, but there was no buy in on the real goal of limiting births to one child per family.
He hoped a series of public service announcements would help sway views. It wasn’t the opinions of the citizenry he was looking to change, but the decision makers Garland was targeting.
Closing his eyes to focus, Garland worked out a timeline for getting the restriction in place, knowing full well that the date would seem arbitrary to those affected by it.
***
“I can’t believe you’re going. It’s a waste of time.”
“The press has got to keep an eye on things. This new statute seems way overdone to me.”
“Really? You ask me, they should be hung.”
“Whoa, hold on Laura. You’re equating people stealing food to eat with murderers.”
“You steal food, you should be hung in public as a lesson, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Aw, come on, Lor. Some of these people have kids to feed.”
“I don’t want to hear any sob stories.”
Jack shook his head and headed for the door, “I’ll see you later.”
Squeezed into a corner of the E train, Jack replayed the disturbing conversation with his wife. He struggled to find a way to shake her out of the funk she was in as he got off the subway. Jack emerged out of the Chambers Street station and headed for the criminal court on Center Street. The court was housed in an intimidating building that had housed the famed civil court for decades until a rising crime rate demanded larger quarters.
Jack jogged up the endless limestone stairs into a lobby that could double as a cathedral. Aft
er clearing security, he pushed through courtroom three’s mahogany doors, amused by the thought that the cavernous courtroom, which had been the scene for some of the most famous cases in American history, was now home to trials previously considered petty.
Settling into a seat in the area reserved for the press, Jack chatted with his brethren. A stream of orange jump-suited defendants entered the court and Jack noticed that half were female and a handful were senior citizens. He studied their faces. They’re ordinary, neighbor-like people, he decided.
The bailiff announced, “All rise! The Honorable Don Gordon.”
Gordon, whose black robe hung from his thin frame, sat and pounded the gavel.
“Docket 78745. The People versus John Flannery. Is the defendant present?”
Flannery’s lawyer jumped to his feet ahead of his client, “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Does the defendant waive his right to a trial by his peers?”
“Yes, Your Honor, however, we’d like the record to reflect that the decision was based on the harsher penalties meted out in a jury trial.”
“Counselor, are you familiar with the Edible Offenses Act?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Well then, you’re not uninformed, are you?”
“Sorry, Your Honor.”
After reading aloud a summary of the prosecution’s case, Gordon asked, “Counselor, is there anything you would like to contradict?”
“We’ve stipulated to the facts. However, I have an objection to having Mr. Ferguson up here with defendants in other cases. The individuality of his case has been lost.”
“Overruled. Sit down, counselor.”
Gordon glanced at the case file and said, “Mr. Ferguson, were you shopping, well, we really can’t call it shopping, can we, at Shoprite on October Sixteenth?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“The report states that you knowingly put four pieces of fruit, apples, I believe, into your pockets and left the store without paying.”
“Yes, sir. I’m very sorry for that, but—”
Gordon slammed the gavel down. “The defendant, John Ferguson, is guilty of breaking the Edible Act and will now be sentenced.”
Ferguson’s wife and family let out a unison gasp.
His lawyer asked, “Your Honor. may I address the court?”
Jack held his breath as Gordon waved a hand.
“Your Honor, I would like the court to know that Mr. Ferguson has never been in trouble before. This was an aberration. His family was hungry and they—”
The gavel pounded again. “Fourteen years, to be served at New York’s MCC Federal Penitentiary.”
Ferguson’s wife wailed as the bailiff approached her husband.
The lawyer said, “Your Honor, we beg you to consider a softer sentence. Mr. Ferguson was only trying to feed his family.”
Gordon held up his arms and crossed his wrists. “It’s the minimum.”
Jack’s stomach shifted as the judge called out the next docket. It was going to be a depressing day.
***
Laura was in bed watching the eleven o’clock news when Jack finally got to their apartment.
“You could’ve called, you know. I made you dinner.”
“I’m sorry, but I was so caught up working. You know how it is.”
Laura frowned. “More than I care to.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“For starters, all you do is work. If I don’t stay on the job, I’d never see you.”
Jack started to unbutton his shirt. “I’m sorry, but you know how important my work is to me.”
“I guess I’m not important then.”
Jack sighed. “Come on, don’t say that. You know that’s not true.”
“Well, that’s how you’re acting. I’m a distant second at best. You always said ‘us’ had to be the most important thing, but now that you’re a big-shot reporter—”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t put my job ahead of you or anything.”
“Really? When’s the last time you spoke to your grandmother? I told you, I don’t know how many times, that she’s very upset. I can’t believe the way you’re treating her.”
Jack stood speechless.
Laura pointed to the TV and raised the volume.
“Oh, my God! Look at this. It’s disgusting.”
Pictures of bloated-bellied African kids, starving to death, with their mothers wailing away, rolled by as a narrator warned viewers not to waste food. As the images moved to stacks of infant-sized coffins, the narrator’s deep voice insinuated that their parents shouldn’t have brought these defenseless children into the world, knowing they could not feed them.
“I know, the Feds are rolling out these announcements to warn people to not have children. I just did an article on it. So, you can see I’m doing important work—”
“Stop it, Jack! I don’t want to hear it.”
“Okay, okay, sorry.”
As Jack was leaving the room, his wife said, “There’s a kale salad from the garden in the fridge, and the tomatoes in the pot are nice and ripe. I just picked them.”
Chapter Nineteen
Listening in via headphones, both Garland and Secretary of State Martin Ryan were in the Oval Office sketching out ideas and opinions for the president as Johnson spoke on the phone.
“I think we’ll be able to do that if that’s what it’s going to take, Indira.”
The president flashed a smile as he ended the call.
“Thank you, Prime Minister, without your support there’s no way I’m going to get China on board.”
“That wasn’t too painful,” Johnson said as he hung up.
Ryan took his earbuds out and said, “Not surprising, given what India’s up against.”
Garland said, “And how. This morning’s embassy brief reported worsening food shortages in Calcutta and Delhi. It’s getting critical.”
Ryan added, “You ask me, it’s the drinking water that’s going to choke them.”
“Figures, we finally get someone we can work with and they’re about to fall apart,” Johnson mused.
“Let’s get the premier on the line. We’re pretty unified, and we’ve got plenty of political cover to amp things up, policy wise.”
“You’re supposed to save the best for last, not the worst. When’s the last time Xiamen ever cooperated with us? That diddly-squat missile nonsense with North Korea?”
“Maybe, but now he’s on his heels,” Garland said as he asked the president’s secretary to phone China’s leader.
Rogers said, “We know they’re about to ration drinking water. They’ve been trying to hide it, but like all their other secrets, it’s gotcha time.”
“Bill’s right, he may posture, but the Chinese have no choice. Even the UN is reversing its ban on GMO foods.”
“He loves to give us a hard time, always taking the opposite position of ours, but we need to come out of this summit unified. If we do, the people can’t raise objections, with virtually every nation on the face of the planet implementing similar policies.”
Garland said, “Sir, before we finish, His Holiness wants to have a word.”
Johnson said, “About?”
“The Pope wants the summit’s agenda amended to include a religious, moral aspect. He feels the increasing lack of faith and moral decay must be addressed.”
***
Laura’s disappointment over Jack’s obsession with covering the biggest story since the coming of Jesus didn’t stop her from secretly following his reporting. She picked up the paper and broke into a proud smile when she saw Jack’s name under a New York Time’s headline that spanned the entire paper: Johnson-Led Summit Yields Unified Response.
A wide-angle photo of over a hundred world leaders, with President Johnson dead center, preceded the text:
President Johnson successfully navigated the varied interests of nations around the globe at the historic population summit. The White House organi
zed the high-level meeting hoping to unify the globe’s response to rising food and water shortages. The three days of talks, testy at times, between nations with divergent interests and resources, took place at Capitol Hill and featured leaders from every corner of the globe. Though some countries are food exporters and others dependent upon imports, world leaders settled on a two-pronged strategy of increasing production and reducing the growth of the populace.
The most controversial issue, other than an unconfirmed rumor of a discussion on euthanasia, was the agreement to restrict births in order to slow the rate of growth in the global population. India’s resistance, rooted in its pro-life culture, was a stumbling block overcome by what sources say was on overly generous aid package footed by China and the United States. Other major initiatives achieved include a thirty-billion-dollar fund to research and develop food sources, the worldwide adoption of GMO products, and an agreement to rescind laws banning the use of pesticides and fertilizers, even those considered harmful.
More contentious was the failed attempt to hammer out an agreement to share resources with countries when a dire need arises. The discussion was tabled and a committee formed to develop a decision matrix that would trigger aid to a nation and what nations would be mandated to contribute that aid.
The urgency of the situation combined with the United Nation’s removal of the ban on Genetically Modified Organisms, also known as GMOs, helped to soften any opposition. The United States unilateral announcement before the summit that legislation was going to be adopted banning births by artificial means and restricting births to one child per couple went a long way in bringing China on board. Additionally, over the past year several nations facing more imminent threats had released policies that have gone even further than those announced yesterday.
The Final Enemy Page 11