Calm Act Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Ginger Booth

  “Huh. Emmett said he’s your ex-fiancé,” Cam continued, eyes dancing with mirth.

  “Oh, that Adam Lacey!” Tom helpfully waded in. “Yes, they were engaged last year when I met Dee. How’s he doing, Dee?”

  “Probably enduring a thousand jokes at his expense today,” I growled. “Other than that, he’s doing great. Lives on a cool house-tugboat parked at Staten Island. Cam, did Emmett sound…cheerful? About Adam?”

  Cam chuckled. “Sounded pretty pissed to me,” he confirmed.

  “Mm-mn, girl, what were you thinking!” Dwayne chimed in, likewise laughing at me.

  “God, this day sucks,” I said. “I want a do-over. I want more potatoes.”

  Tom beamed the news broadcast onto his big display, and turned up the sound. The edgy music and Breaking News – Special Report banner were already playing, over the pretty and brainy ex-Yale acting student we used as anchor when we wanted one. She was still shuffling papers on the desk. Amenac’s short-form logo showed behind her, on a green-to-brown gradient backdrop, praying hands shielding a tender sprout.

  The camera zoomed in on her solemn, weighty visage and perfectly glossed brown hair. She wore neat but normal layers, a thick natural wool sweater over cotton plaid collared shirt. She wore makeup, but only to accent the weathered outdoorsy New Englander look. The competition’s posers could wear elegant clothes. Our announcers had to look like they authentically lived with uncertain power and dicey weather like the rest of us.

  Granted, feeling righteous about this was silly when I knew she was an actor.

  “Good evening. This is Jennifer Alvarez, joining you from Amenac world headquarters in Totoket, Connecticut. For our broadcast today, we hoped to show you special holiday coverage of the triumphant Thanksgiving dinner yesterday in New York City. We will still tell that story.” Behind Jen, the screen showed previews of the throngs being fed in New York. Unsurprisingly, they were from my stops the day before, with Emmett. Amiri Baz and his crew had traveled on our ferry.

  “But first. Last night at 9:30 p.m. eastern time on Thanksgiving, after the city dinner reached its successful and peaceful conclusion, armed forces from Pennsylvania attacked the New York epidemic border – the Apple Skin – at West Point. The attack was without provocation, and without warning.”

  A graphic behind her explained where West Point was, on the Hudson River upstream from ‘NYC dinner’, a few miles inside the armed epidemic border. This switched to video of steaming wreckage at West Point. Medics carried off injured soldiers. I wondered just how many of the Army upper echelon had studied at West Point, like Emmett and Cam had. They’d captured easily recognizable landmarks of the campus on video, smoking in broken ruin and sheeting rain. Cam looked livid, face set in stone.

  “Penn forces used air attack craft to bomb and strafe the off-duty garrison, then dropped several thousand armed paratroopers. The surprise attack killed or wounded over a thousand New York soldiers, relaxing after their Thanksgiving duties, before they were able to mobilize their defense. The Penn forces were – utterly – defeated. Some hundred prisoners were taken for questioning. The rest were killed in action.”

  Jen skewered the audience with a Look. “The use of aircraft, and attacking another state, are both blatant violations of the Calm Act. Later in the broadcast, we’ll be speaking with Homeland Security about what they’ve learned from Penn’s POWs.” Video of prisoners on their knees, hands on their heads. “We’ll also hear from Lieutenant Colonel Emmett MacLaren, commander of Project Reunion –” Great video there of Emmett cheering with the crowd at the after-party last night. “– And the commanders of the New York and New England borders, General Sean Cullen and General Ivan Link.” Cullen was shown in field helmet, listening grimly to an aide’s report, while he stroked the altar Bible in the shattered West Point chapel. Link and his staff debated at a huge screen, showing a schematic of the attack’s approach path and origin in Pennsylvania.

  “– And others. And we will cover the most important event of yesterday. Project Reunion’s Thanksgiving dinner in the Apple Core of New York City!” Jen smiled proudly. “But before we do,” Jen hushed and looked grim, “there was also an address broadcast at 7 a.m. eastern this morning, putatively from President O’Donnell. From Raven Rock Mountain, Pennsylvania. The President claimed that he ordered this attack. And that he’d done it to stop New England insurgents, stealing from New York City.”

  Cut to General Link, belligerent: “Well, that’s a crock. Pennsylvania knew what we were doing on Project Reunion, from day one.”

  General Cullen, sad and pitying: “If the President believes that, he has been misinformed by bad advisers. As the military governor of New York, I bless Emmett MacLaren for proposing Project Reunion. The Apple welcomes help from New England, upstate New York, and New Jersey, with open arms. The military governors – we were in complete agreement about this.”

  Admiral Huyck, Navy of the Northeast (first time I’d read that phrase!): “Do we even know that was President O’Donnell? I’m sorry, but if he were my Commander-in-Chief, wouldn’t he be commanding the Navy, General Cullen, General Link – all of us? Not just – Pennsylvania. At no point did the Commander-in-Chief tell us that he took issue with Project Reunion. It’s not as though we did this in secret. This is a vast humanitarian relief mission. Millions of people are involved.”

  Emmett, soggy and smudged with soot: “Uh-huh. Look, we knew we had a problem with Pennsylvania. And this wasn’t their first attack on Project Reunion. We have a lot more to talk about there. But the question was – do we give up on the survivors of New York? Heroes like the Manhattan survivors we shared Thanksgiving dinner with yesterday? No.”

  Karl Abramson, New York director of Homeland Security: “Say what? Humanitarian relief doesn’t violate the Calm Act. Bombing your fellow Americans, without warning or provocation? That’s treason. With or without the Calm Act.”

  Prefaced by that, Amenac played O’Donnell’s speech, edited ever so subtly. Illustrating his remarks – we only had audio, after all – Amenac played video from the attack on West Point. The wounded. Then the starving people of the Apple receiving food yesterday. The first broadcast images of Ty Jefferson and his band under white flags at the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. Volunteer survivors, and hazmat-suited service men and women, carrying emaciated children to be taken into quarantine. The donation trains, as the people of the Northeast contributed their own food to support the quarantines and Project Reunion. The volunteer trains. We’d never shown any of that footage before. And we didn’t explain it now.

  People this morning on the dock had seemed a little confused, dismayed and defensive when we listened to O’Donnell. There was none of that in Tom’s office tonight. Only outrage. We weren’t very close to the garrison troops, where they watched. But I could hear the growl of their reaction.

  More sound-bites crowded onto the end of O’Donnell’s speech, without preamble.

  Prime Minister Durand of Canada: “That speech betrays a dangerous level of ignorance on the part of the American President. All of Canada – the world – knows the truth of Project Reunion. Why doesn’t he?”

  General Charles Schwabacher, military governor of Ohio and West Virginia: “The President is misinformed. Ohio, the Virginias, Maryland and Delaware – we are fully apprised of Pennsylvania’s...actions.”

  Cam sat up ramrod-straight when Schwabacher came on. His face glowed. “Was that your play, Emmett?” he breathed. We all looked to him to explain. But Cam shook his head, focused on the screen.

  Amiri Baz, Pulitzer prize-winning war correspondent: “Doctor Aoyama, I’m told this was actually Pennsylvania’s second attack on Project Reunion.”

  Dr. Tom Aoyama, lead epidemiologist for Project Reunion: “Yes. Pennsylvania infiltrated our pilot quarantine on Long Island. They suborned my assistant, Dr. Clarke Whitfield. We were very fortunate to uncover the plot before any damage was done. Aside from discrediting me, their plan was to release weapo
nized typhoid into Connecticut, via refugees released from the Camp Yankee quarantine. And thus discredit all of Project Reunion.”

  Amiri: “My God. That’s a terrorist plot.”

  Tom, nodding: “It certainly would have spread terror. There are millions of good people in Connecticut. Trying very hard to help their neighbors in New York.”

  We all shot Tom a thumb’s-up, and he happily grinned like a fool.

  Amiri: “Director Abramson, do you believe Homeland Security has prevented this bio-terrorism attack on the Northeast?”

  Abramson, New York Homeland Security: “I believe so. You have to understand, there are tens of thousands of volunteers and armed service personnel involved in Project Reunion. But we have procedures in place. We also... We have evidence, that this wasn’t the first bio-terrorist attack on New York. We have evidence that the initial, overwhelming, Ebola outbreaks in New York – those were an intentional attack. By elements in Pennsylvania.”

  Jennifer Alvarez, Amenac narrator: “A program note. Amenac will be airing a special report from Homeland Security later in the week. Among the topics will be the case against Pennsylvania. But now, on a happier note,” Jennifer broke into a beatific smile, tears of pride standing in her eyes, “let’s turn to the Project Reunion Thanksgiving dinner, in New York City.”

  Amiri Baz: “I’m speaking with Navy Captain Gil Flores, the officer charged with coordinating what must be one of the largest single-day soup kitchen operations ever attempted. Captain Flores, it’s the night before Thanksgiving. Are you ready?”

  Captain Flores: “Ready or not! Yes, we’re ready. We’ve done test runs. We have dinner stations set up throughout the Apple Core and North Jersey. Tables and supplies and troops for crowd control. Everything but the food, and that’s cooking as we speak.”

  Amiri Baz: “How many people do you hope to feed tomorrow?”

  Captain Flores: “Half a million. Yeah. It’s amazing. The outpouring of food donations across the Northeast has been...amazing.”

  That went on for a while, Flores and Baz outlining what the Thanksgiving operation entailed, how much food, a map of the dinner stations. Video clips of the donation stations, the food trains. The cameras caught Emmett and me looking around the harbor before dawn, with Amiri’s hushed voice-over, ‘three hours to first dinner.’

  I was as rapt as anyone at the video coverage on the ground, showing the guests at Soho, Chelsea piers, Midtown. The interviews, asking thin guests what this dinner meant to them.

  A quick sample from other boats, taken with phones. Adam: “Happy Thanksgiving from the Coast Guard, in Hoboken New Jersey!” His houseboat-mate: “Happy Thanksgiving from the Merchant Marine, in Queens!” Another: “Happy Thanksgiving from the Navy, in Brooklyn!” Another: “Happy Thanksgiving from the Army National Guard, in the Bronx!”

  Emmett and I grinning, with our masks temporarily down around our necks. “Happy Thanksgiving from the Army, and Amenac!” said he. “From the Midtown Ferry Terminal in Manhattan!” said I.

  Baz zeroed in for an in-depth interview with us, about our relationship and role in Project Reunion. Then photo opportunities with our leadership table. The voice-over continued with Emmett sharing about his hero-worship of the leaders he’d met in New York. How he hoped Project Reunion could leave them stronger, as well as take refugees out. Baz asked if he was worried about disease spread, from all this. Emmett said they had their procedures, and so far, illness levels were similar to a winter Army garrison.

  And more. Including Adam’s after-party in Staten Island. Emmett and I showed up in several video clips there. Including the moment of impact. Someone was filming us as Emmett got the call about the attack on West Point, and kissed me good-bye.

  “On a lighter note,” Baz shared with a grin, the camera back on him in some destroyer-based conference room today. “Dee Baker, Colonel MacLaren’s partner and a co-founder of Amenac, was stranded at Staten Island last night, when MacLaren took his destroyer up the Hudson River to West Point. Fortunately Baker’s ex-fiancé was also at the party –”

  “No...” I groaned.

  “– so she spent the night with him, on his houseboat moored at Staten Island. The teasing today has been merciless, in New York Harbor.”

  Jen Alvarez laughed at me from the screen. “And that’s our report. From all of us here at Amenac and Project Reunion, we hope your Thanksgiving was overflowing with gratitude. Good night.”

  “I’m going to kill Carlos Mora,” I groaned.

  “Well, like I said, Dee,” Cam offered, in mocking consolation. “We’re your friends regardless of your relationship with Emmett.”

  “Now, which one did you sleep with last night?” Dwayne inquired. “Was he shown?”

  “The Coast Guard officer,” Tom supplied with a grin. “The male model, Adam Lacey.”

  “Ooh! Oh, honey, he’s much better looking than Emmett,” Dwayne assured me. “Is he as good in bed?”

  I glared at Dwayne, as Cam’s phone rang. “Hey, Emmett! Yeah, she’s right here. We were just watching the.. Yeah.” He handed me the phone, and hustled up the others. “We’ll just leave Dee alone to talk to Emmett,” Cam said.

  “But I want to stay!” Dwayne objected.

  Cam hauled him out of his chair, and the three of them exited the office, still laughing.

  “Hi, honey,” I said tentatively.

  “Don’t call me ‘honey’!” Emmett yelled in my ear.

  23

  Interesting fact: Dr. Clarke Whitfield was eventually executed for crimes against humanity. Homeland Security strung her along for several months, giving her extra days of life in exchange for further information. But her fate was non-negotiable after she admitted her role in weaponizing Ebola for use in New York City, and then abusing her position in Long Island to cover her tracks. The lead scientists on the Ebola weapon project escaped to South America. They were never found.

  Voilà! My apologetic, groveling demeanor vanished in the blink of an eye. “Don’t be an asshole, Emmett. Look, I apologize on purely PR grounds. Not for anything I did. You left me stranded in the middle of New York. Fair enough. You were busy. So I slept on Adam’s boat. Also, fair enough.”

  “That’s not – Gah!” Emmett blew out slowly.

  Screw it, if he was going to do his southern torture 15-second pause thing, I needed a pastime. I shifted over to Tom’s desk, spawned an anonymous browser window to sign in, and brought up Project Reunion broadcast traffic reports on the monitor.

  Strange. They must have limited the broadcast to the Northeast – minus Pennsylvania – to prevent any pesky server load issues. Yikes. It seemed like half the Northeast had watched already, or was still watching. Traffic there was still rising. Oh, there it went. The mirror servers across the U.S. completed replication and started to stream the broadcast.

  “– ex-wife used to call me ‘honey’,” Emmett was saying, when I guiltily recalled we were in the middle of something. “That was a knee-jerk reaction.”

  “So? Apologize.”

  “...Uh-huh,” he growled. “I apologize for barking at you.”

  “Cool, so here’s the desensitization round, honey. Honey, honey, honey, honey with jam, peanut butter bananas and honey sandwich, honey ham, honey pot, honey trap, land of milk and honey –”

  “Uh-huh. Enough, Dee.”

  “Ooh,” I said. “The broadcast just went out to Canada and Mexico. Zooming out... Yeah, Europe, Asia, world-wide.”

  “You’re watching Amenac traffic? While we’re talking on the phone?”

  “You pissed me off. Honey.” Cool it, I warned myself. You love this man. This conversation is important. Like I ever listened to myself. “Sorry, Emmett. It’s kind of a big moment for the media side of Project Reunion. And I was offline being seasick down the length of Long Island today. They did all this without me. You paused to think. That gave me time to wonder...”

  “Uh-huh. So how’s it going?”

  “This may break the
records of Tom’s broadcast – Christ!”

  “What now?” Emmett sighed. Cam stuck his head back in to check on me. He wandered in, curious, when he saw what I was talking about. The conference display was still set to echo Tom’s monitor. Dwayne and Tom followed him in.

  “Pennsylvania just lit up! Emmett – we’re finally reaching Pennsylvania!” I cried in triumph. “Solid borders on the west and southwest... Starting to glow on the northern border with New York state... Wow, the whole New Jersey border just lit up solid. I don’t know what these blue things are.”

  “Radio broadcasts, maybe,” Cam suggested.

  “Should be some radio broadcasts around the periphery of Pennsylvania,” Emmett said.

  “That’s what Cam just said.” I zoomed in on a blank area. “Huh, there’s this dead spot in the middle of the southern border.”

  “Raven Rock Mountain?” Emmett suggested.

  “Raven Rock Mountain,” Cam said.

  Irritably, I punched Emmett on speaker so they could hear each other.

  “You’re right. Aw... They’re not going to let the President see it? We’re not getting traffic inside the Penn border,” I sighed.

  “No power or Internet inside Penn,” Emmett and Cam said, in more or less the same words at the same time.

  “How’s traffic outside the Northeast?” Emmett added.

  “Zooming out... Holy. Cow. Still rising everywhere in North America. If they have Internet, they’re hearing about this tonight.”

  “How about Europe?” Emmett asked.

  “It’s after midnight in the UK, Emmett... I take that back. I guess a few people stayed up, huh?”

  “A lot more than a few,” Cam said, for Emmett’s benefit. “Not much outside the UK in Europe, Emmett. It’s later there.”