Authors: Rich Goldhaber
“Eighteen weeks ago a highly virulent strain
of Ebola began spreading throughout the world. It
was unique in several respects. First, it could be
transmitted through the air, and the airborne virus
was highly contagious. Second, unlike previous
forms of the virus, patients could transfer the disease prior to their showing any symptoms. Third,
exposed persons became contagious two weeks after infection but didn’t show symptoms until four
to six weeks after exposure. Finally, once exposed,
the disease was 100 percent fatal.”
“I’m getting to that. It looks like about one
person in one thousand is immune. The CDC
doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s genetic, but probably
not; more likely some form of innate chemical protection some people have, and this protection appears to be totally random; young, old, black,
white, male, female; it doesn’t matter. The CDC
checked out the survivors, and they can’t find any
virus in their blood. So it doesn’t look like they’re
carriers of the disease. For unknown reasons, all
the virus in their bodies is gone.
“Because people were contagious long before they showed symptoms, the disease spread at
lightning speed across the world. Even our Carrier
Task Forces were affected because of travel between land and sea and between ships at sea. The
only areas probably not affected are in remote sections of the Amazon Jungle and other isolated areas around the world.”
Doctor Fleming frowned. “I wish I knew the
answer. At this point the virus needs to run its
course. I worked up some mathematical projections given certain assumptions. If the lifespan of
the virus is similar to previous strains of the virus,
and that’s a big if, I’d give it another one to two
months, but if this virus can survive outside the
human body for long periods of time then all bets
are off.”
Sanchez thought for a few minutes and
then addressed his senior officers. “Okay, so let me
see if I understand. If we return to our base now,
we are unlikely to find any of our family or friends
alive, and we have a chance of becoming infected
ourselves. If any of us become infected, the whole
crew might die. If we wait for a couple of months,
we still won’t have friends or family alive but we
may have a better chance of surviving.”
Gordy Phillips, the ship’s Executive Officer
and second in command said, “Captain, the way I
see it, we no longer have responsibility to protect
the United States from our enemies. Our responsibility right now is to the survivors in our own
country. We need to find a way to help them. I
suggest we begin a tour of our coastlines with a
focus on the big cities. We may be able to make
contact with small groups of survivors and get
more up to date information without leaving the
ship and risking exposure to the deadly disease.”
Sanchez answered with tears in his eyes,
“Marty, my wife and two children are probably
dead. So are my mom and dad and two sisters.
Your wife Rachel is also probably dead. Think of
the odds. I’ll bet if we ran the numbers, our crew of
143 sailors might have only one or two relatives
who made it. That’s just the way the numbers will
work out.
“I’m thinking about another problem. There
is no Federal Government. There probably aren’t
any functioning local governments anywhere in the
country that’re in a position to help their residents.
I haven’t made use of my degree in behavioral psychology since I graduated, but here’s how I think
this will all play out.
“There will be two distinct groups of survivors. The good guys will want to work together for
the common good. They’ll probably band together
in small groups, and they’ll almost become like
clans. Maybe in a few years some of the clans will
join together. They’ll be trying to work together to
bring things back to normal.
“Unfortunately there will also be groups of
bad guys, the misfits; the types of people who want
to get something without working for it. There will
be some egotistical leaders of these groups who
want to take things from the good guys. That’s just
the way our species has always been, good guys
and bad guys. We need to be the protectors of the
good guys. We’re going to need to help keep the
peace and ensure the good guys win. Am I making
sense?”
Lieutenant Charlie Westerbrooke said,
“Captain, unfortunately I think you’re spot on.
We’ll need to appeal to our crew’s sense of duty.
You need to convince them of the worthiness of
this new mission, and all of the officers, including
myself, have to be 100 percent committed to this
effort.”
Captain Sanchez went around the room,
asking each of his officers to vote on Gordy Phillip’s
plan. There was no reluctance on the part of any
officer. They were unified in their commitment.
Sanchez said, “Okay, I want the entire crew
mustered in the mess area ASAP. Marty, Dave, and
Lester, you guys shut the ship down and just keep
her in a stationary position. The rest of the officers
will join the crew as we work through this problem.
Any questions?”
There were none, and Captain Sanchez lifted his phone and punched in the number for the
public address system. “Attention all crew members. This is Captain Sanchez. As you are all
aware, there has been a global pandemic. We have
lost all communication with the outside world. All
crew members, regardless of whether you are on
duty or not, will meet in the mess area in ten
minutes. We will discuss the situation in detail and
review our game plan. That is all.”
The captain and most of the officers walked
into the mess area. The Chief Warrant Officer
shouted, “All hands, attention!”
Captain Sanchez said, “At ease gentlemen.
This is going to be an informal meeting. Please feel
free to interrupt with your questions, and we will
have a free exchange of ideas after my introductory
remarks.”
The mess area already quiet suddenly became totally silent. Sanchez looked around the
room at his men; he was proud of them all; they
were the best crew he had ever led.
“Gentlemen, each of you may know much of
the facts that I’m about to discuss. I know the
grapevine on board this ship is very efficient.”
There was brief laughter from the crew, and
the captain’s little joke provided relief to the men
who had been in a high state of stress for many
weeks.
“You all need to understand the facts today.
There are medical facts, political facts, and of
course there are some facts affecting each of our
personal lives. These discussions will be very difficult, but they are necessary, because we must decide our course of action within the framework of
what we know.
“First, here’s the medical situation. About
eighteen weeks ago the world was hit with a highly
infectious strain of the Ebola virus. At first the experts thought this would be just another outbreak
they could control with the usual isolation protocols. Unfortunately, they were wrong. This new virus could be spread through the air, and people
were contagious long before they exhibited any
symptoms. Once infected, the disease has proven
100 percent fatal. Some citizens, about one in a
thousand, for unknown reasons, appear to be immune against the virus. Before communications
broke down with our base, the CDC predicted, except for people who had not been in contact with
others for several months, everyone in the country
would be dead, except for these fortunate people
with a natural immunity.”
There was not a sound from the sailors in
the mess area. Sanchez, after a brief pause continued. “Being immune seems to be a totally random
occurrence, so it’s not like a few families survive
and everyone else dies. I’m not an expert on mathematical odds and probability, but it seems pretty
clear to me that only a few of our crew, maybe one
or two of us, might have a living close family member. My wife and two children are probably dead.
Your wives and children, your fathers and mothers, your brothers and sisters are all probably
dead. Those are the medical facts and we need to
accept them.”
Sanchez looked around at his men. Many
were close to tears; all were grieving in one way or
another.
One of the sailors who worked in the torpedo room raised his hand. “Captain, how can we be
sure about the fatality rate? It seems the CDC
didn’t understand things in the beginning. Maybe
they got the death rate wrong too.”
“Tony, that’s certainly a possibility, but in
communications with our base in Bangor, they
were predicting the same types of numbers. At our
last communication before the system shut down,
the last remaining person who understood how to
communicate with us said the death rate on the
base was already above ninety percent, and he and
most of the remaining survivors were already
showing symptoms.”
Everyone was processing the information
and Sanchez allowed a full minute of silence before
he continued. “So gentlemen the question is quite
simple; what do we do now? Unfortunately, the answer is very complex. I have discussed various options with your officers. We are all in agreement as
to our next steps, but I want to share our thinking
with all of you because you may think of some alternative course of action that might be better.”
The crew had never heard their captain or
any officer ask for their inputs in any major decision affecting their lives, but they seemed to all
understand the wisdom of Captain Sanchez’s approach.
“Your officers believe our military mission is
essentially on-hold. There will be no need for a
strong military to provide security to our country
for many years to come. The situation in the United States is no different than in any other country.
Our mission now is to help our country’s survivors
anyway we can. Doctor Fleming feels the period of
contagion will dissipate in the weeks ahead, and
we may be able to land on our soil in a few months
without fear of becoming infected, but he admits
this is just an educated guess on his part.
“It makes no sense to head back to our
home base now. We all would risk death. If any of
our loved ones are still alive, they will probably be
alive a few months from now when it’s safe to return.
“Instead, I propose we begin a monitoring
and surveillance mission of the United States
coastline. We will attempt to communicate with
survivors but from a safe distance. We will not risk
exposure to the disease. Our goal will be to determine where survivors are grouping together, and
begin to understand what their needs might be. We
will try to help out as best we can without risking
the health of our crew.
“I believe this will be a mission worthy of
the high standards of this ship and its crew. I will
now open the meeting up to questions.”
A sailor who worked the weapons area
asked, “Captain, surely there must be other submarines in the fleet just like us.”
Sanchez answered, “Good question Fred.
We have tried to establish contact with not just
other submarines, but any of our surface ships
and without success. As you know when we left
port, many of our sister ships were returning. We
happened to leave port just before the beginning of
the outbreak. Other ships leaving port later were
already infected, and returning ships were infected
as soon as they arrived home. As for the surface
fleet, as all of you know the military travels between ships on a daily basis. If it’s not transferring
crew, its delivering food or other necessities. We’ve
never seen a disease as infectious as this one. A
sneeze could infect a hundred people; someone
touching a doorknob could infect another dozen
people; that’s why the disease spread so quickly.”
A sailor who worked the galley asked, “Sir,
we only have provisions for another month. You
said we might need to stay out for several months.
How will we replenish our supplies?”
“Greg that’s a great question, and to be
honest none of the officers have thought about
that. I’m guessing we may be able to find a deserted island where we can find some food. We may be
living on coconuts and wild game for a few weeks,
but I think we can make due.”
There was silence for a few minutes, and
then Chief Warrant Officer Cotter spoke, “Captain I
can’t speak for the whole crew, only myself, but I
believe given the facts you have presented, you and
the officers have made the best possible decision. I
want you to know I will do whatever needs to be
done to support your decision.”
Captain Sanchez spoke, “Thank you all for
your support. If any of you would like to have some
private discussions with me, I am available at any
time. Crew; dismissed.”
After the officers met, they all agreed the
crew was 100 percent behind the ship’s new mission.
After breakfast George, Jessie, and I left on
our day’s assignments. We took three cars, because we had no idea of what to expect, and we
might find some other survivors along the way. We
headed north on Route 41 and then switched over
onto Livingston Road. Our first stop was Jessie’s
house where she wanted to find the information
her father had collected on solar power systems.
Jessie lived in an upscale gated community. We
bypassed the security office by driving through the
exit lane.
Jessie’s home was one of those typical Tuscan style single story sprawling structures so
common in the Naples area. We parked in front,
and Jessie led us through the front gate and into a
beautiful courtyard. Flowers were dying now from
lack of water, but you could tell someone in Jessie’s family loved to work in the garden. As if sensing my impression, Jessie said, “My mom loved to
keep the garden up. It’s too bad everything is dying
off.”