The Aegis Solution (58 page)

There were no other questions. Pierce, his air of competence slipping slightly, looked at Wilson.
"Wilson, do you think it's really happening?"

Wilson allowed a weak smile to crease his face. "We know for certain that the pathogen is
happening. With the call Leah heard from Faulk's man, Kennerley, and the radio reports heard by the
Clements' family earlier, there doesn't appear to be any doubt. As far as the failure of the vaccine, of that
we only know what Kennerley said to Leah when he believed he was reporting to Faulk. With regard
to the last, and most profound, aspect of your question, have we really been selected to be saved while
the rest of the world dies? I believe so, Milton, but only time will tell."

Pierce gently nibbled on his bottom lip, his eyes avoiding contact with everyone at the table. It was
clear that he was in a pitched battle between giving in to his emotions, and his need to remain calm and
in control. No one spoke as he wrestled both sides. The muscles on his jaw tightening, he exhaled
heavily and asked, "What else should we be doing?"

Sweezea was the first to speak. "The Air Force guys didn't leave their crane, did they? I wouldn't
want the people outside using it to get on the roof."

Pierce shook his head. "No. The salvage team checked after reading the note. They must have
transported it out and then departed with it."

"Getting in!" Tillie barked. "Elias, the drainage tunnel. If the people outside find it, some snakes
aren't going to stop them."

"You're right. Tim, will you and Crabill round up the bombs and head down there? We need to
collapse it."

"Aren't those just firebombs?" she asked. "They won't destroy it, will they?"

Sweezea grinned at Tillie. "Good question. The answer is that culverts are also called RCP, or
reinforced concrete pipe. It's the ‘reinforced' part that's critical. They are embedded with rebar, or
reinforced bars, when they are made. Those bars are tempered with heat. If you get them hot enough,
the tempering fails, the rebar violently distorts, and the concrete collapses. Those bombs will get the
concrete and the embedded steel plenty hot enough."

Elias said, "Do it." Sweezea jumped up to leave.

"I'm going, too," Tillie volunteered, standing. Sweezea knew better than to object.

As the two left, Leah commented, "Speaking of perimeter defense, we should probably patrol the
edge of the roof. Who knows how creative the people outside might get."

"I'll assemble a detail for that," Pierce offered. "Such a horrific tragedy, leaving those folks outside.
We don't even know for sure that they are infected."

"I've been thinking about that," Elias spoke softly, attempting to crystallize what had been a vague
idea. "The people on the outside are still basically within the protective blast of wind that is sheltering
Aegis, or at least they might be. If they are not yet infected, maybe the pathogen won't reach them."

"What are you suggesting?" Wilson asked, clearly interested in the direction of Elias' words.

"Do you think we might be able to save them?" Lisa said hopefully.

"I'm not sure. I wanted to talk it through with all of you. Wilson, what you said before, about each
of us being the kind of person who deserves to start a new society on Earth, really hit home. I'm having
a problem reconciling that with locking the people out and having armed guards patrolling the perimeter
with orders to shoot to kill."

Wilson began to speak; however, Elias raised his hand. "Please, let me keep talking for a minute.
I'm not positive it makes any sense, but I'd like to put it on the table. If civilization is disintegrating that
rapidly out there and people stop coming to Aegis soon, and I realize that's a big ‘if,' then maybe that
final bunch outside the wall won't get infected."

"Are you talking about letting them in?"

"No…I don't know. Maybe not right away. Maybe we monitor them, lower food down to them.
From what we've heard, the bug is incredibly fast-acting. Maybe if they are alive in a day…two
days…and no one else comes to Aegis…maybe then we let them in."

Everyone was silent.

Pierce finally broke the silence. "That seems much more humane than just locking them out and
forgetting about them. They deserve a fighting chance."

"At the risk of sounding harsh," Wilson countered, "we have the continued existence of the human
race on our shoulders. We have, apparently, been provided with help and protection, but at some point
the decisions are ours to make. And making the wrong one could be catastrophic."

"Couldn't we take it a step at a time?" Leah suggested. "We have a more than sufficient supply of
food and water. Couldn't we lower enough to sustain them for now, and decide in a few days what our
next step is?"

After reflecting on her proposition for a moment, Wilson spoke. "The single most significant
unknown for us is how long we must survive within Aegis. We know for a fact that additional shipments
will not be forthcoming. How can we say that we have an ample supply of food when it is possible that
we will need to remain within these walls for a year? It may take every morsel in our stores to keep all
of us alive until it is safe to emerge from Aegis."

The image of the future, as painted by Wilson, caused all of the people around the table to visualize
the upcoming weeks and months, each scenario painted with the perspective and the fears of that
individual. A somber silence fell over the group.

Wilson continued, "I fear, as time marches inexorably forward, that we will be faced with some very
distasteful and harsh decisions, decisions which will test the limits of our intellect and our humanity.
This question today is merely a sample, the first of many. I believe it is critical that we understand two
things as we wrestle with each of the impending dilemmas yet to come. The first is that we recognize
the burden we carry. Our very existence, as the populations of the world succumb to extinction, may
be the last hope for the continuation of mankind on Earth. We must never lose sight of this. Every
choice, large or small, must be viewed through the lens of this duty."

Wilson paused and Elias asked, "And the second?"

Wilson's eyes riveted to Elias. "The second? Why, that is obvious. Mankind…our species…must
be worthy of saving. Otherwise, what is the point? Therefore, despite the unknown answers to our
questions, I don't see any reason we shouldn't take that first step, and feed and cloth those poor souls
outside our walls."

Pierce waited for a time, giving anyone who might have an objection a chance to voice it, before
he concluded, "Then it's settled. We will provide food, water, additional clothing, and blankets, since
I doubt any of them expected or planned for the cold temperatures out there."

For the first time since the meeting began, Samantha spoke up. "This isn't right."

"Why, Sam?" asked Matt.

"It isn't just us we're talking about; it's all those people standing outside that door and all of the
others inside Aegis. We're sitting in here deciding whether we should give away their food. Shouldn't
we ask them? Shouldn't they get a vote?"

Wilson drew in a deep breath, clearly planning to respond, when Pierce spoke up. "Miss Clements,
what you are talking about is a democracy."

"Right! Isn't a democracy the best way to govern?"

"This may come as a surprise to you but, no, it isn't."

She hesitated, startled by his response, and stammered, "I…I don't…why not? That's what America
is…was!"

"Actually, it is a republic, not a democracy."

"What's the difference? We vote."

Pierce was in his element. He had, in fact, been preparing for this discussion his entire life, his
position and his arguments finely honed by years of arguing with, at first, his sister, then countless
others. "Numerous papers were written by our founding fathers. They referenced intense and
occasionally heated debates on this very subject. The truth, Miss Clements, is that Americans do not
vote on any thing; it is not our role to pass laws and make decisions. We have only one task to perform
as citizens, and that is to vote for candidates. It is up to the elected officials to pass laws, to set priorities,
in other words…to govern, the exception being the occasional proposition or referendum within the
states. In fact, we do not even technically elect the President. That decision, according to the
Constitution, is made by the electoral college which, originally, was intended to be a group of the wisest
and most trusted members of each community, appointed at the state level, who would then travel to
a meeting and, without further input from the populace, select our leader."

"But it doesn't work like that anymore. Except for a couple of close ones, the person we've elected
is the one who gets the job."

"True. I'm talking about the original intent. Ever since the Seventeenth Amendment, which took
effect in 1913, we also now directly elect senators. But at the time the Constitution was signed, senators
were selected by the legislatures of each state."

"Really? I didn't know that. Why did they do it that way? It sounds elitist."

Pierce smiled. "The concept of checks and balances. The House of Representatives was the
people's house. Congressmen were elected directly by the voters. The Senate, chosen by state leaders,
was intended by the framers to be the cream of the crop in terms of intelligence, wealth, education,
experience, and the like. Over our early history, the litany of bills proposed and passed in the House
reflects people attempting to govern in their own self-interest. You would be amazed at the nature of
some of those bills. A large number would have been, essentially, handouts to the public. Had the vast
majority of the proposed legislation passed, America would have been bankrupt a century ago. Since
the bills were then turned over to the Senate, they quickly died, never reaching the desk of the President
for a signature.

"And the reciprocal also worked quite effectively. The Senate, in those days, frequently proposed
legislation which would support, enhance, and subsidize business, industry, and the landed gentry. In
other words, they, too, pursued their self-interests. When these bills stepped over the line and created
a blatant handout to industry, for example, the legislation failed to survive the House. Insofar as
constitutional power, the two interests were balanced. If the, as you described them, elites in the Senate
wanted something, they had to modify it, temper it, and make it palatable to the House, whose only goal
was to obtain the best deal it could for the people. And the reverse was true. When the House wanted
something that would benefit the general population, they had to make it attractive to the Senate. The
system, before it was modified, was designed to give both sides equal power so that only legislation
which made sense for the job creators, wealth creators, and industry builders...as well as for the workers
and the citizen population in general...could pass. And if the pendulum swung too far in either direction,
the Supreme Court was standing by to swing it back."

"I still don't see how this relates to our situation here."

"I have digressed a bit, but only to provide context. As you can see, Jefferson, Madison, Franklin,
and the others knew that pure democracy was as tyrannical as any dictator or monarch. That was why
they placed so many layers between the voter and the final piece of legislation – to temper that despotic
tendency of the population."

"Are you saying that people, when they vote as a group, would do bad things? I don't think I
believe that. People are basically good."

"You are right; for the most part, they are. On a one-on-one basis, a person will help another, even
to his or her own detriment. But pure democracy is nothing but mob rule. And the mob mentality is
something quite different; this difference is exacerbated and compounded by the privacy of the voting
booth. Let me ask you a question. Do you believe, in the late 1950s and early 1960s, that had it all been
put to a popular vote, the Civil Rights Acts would have passed? Before you answer, I'll tell you that,
according to the polls, according to all measurements of public opinion, they would not. Nor, in the
previous century, would slaves have been freed. Women would not have received the privilege of voting.
We would not have entered World War I or World War II, at least not until the enemy had reached our
shores.

"There are nearly countless examples of our leaders making decisions contrary to the will of the
public, occasionally destroying their own political careers in the process, to do what they perceived to
be the right thing. In many cases, history has judged them as having been right. In many cases, not. But
the point is, that is how our republic was intended to work."

"So you're saying that if we walk outside this room right now and present the facts to the crowd,
asking them to vote on whether we share the food or not, they'll vote against it?"

"No. What I'm saying, Miss Clements, is a far worse indictment than that. The sad truth, as any
student of history will tell you, is that the crowd outside this room will vote either way, depending
entirely on how the so-called facts are presented."

"You lost me."

"It's quite simple. If we were to pick the most gifted orator among us to sell them on the idea of
lowering food and water to the people outside, they would vote to do so with a large majority. If, on
the other hand, we presented a persuasive and frightening argument against the idea, it would be soundly
defeated. This was proved, conclusively, during pre-World War II Germany by Hitler. Our founders
knew this. That is precisely why we must decide what to do and then present our position, and only our
position, to them, as eloquently as possible."