Darrell Bain - The Melanin Apocalypse

President Marshall rubbed his chin and didn’t answer. He had been entertaining vague notions of colonizing some of the empty continent once the blacks all died off. Particularly the oil producing areas, like Nigeria. Joshua was finally giving him advice he wanted to hear.

“We can’t do it all, man,” Borland Newman countered, looking directly at Joshua. “We’re going to lose thirty percent of our military to that goddamned virus as is! And I just met with the joint chiefs. We need to federalize the air carriers to try getting more of our people home, particularly from Africa. Now you want me to send troops for something else? Can’t the U.N. handle it? Besides, it might be better to let them blow.”

“What!” Joshua couldn’t believe he had heard the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs right.

“Stop and think a moment. According to trends, Africa is going to become almost completely depopulated. That’s going to leave the whole continent up for grabs, just like back in colonial days. And while it’s happening, we’re going to be busier than the other great powers because of our own population mix. Where do you think we’ll stand in the world if we let the Europeans, or China or hell, even Russia take over?”

“General, there aren’t but a few nuclear plants in Africa, although we may need to keep our eye on several in the Middle East. The Muslim nations are becoming more belligerent than ever. Some of their people are infected too, you know.”

“My job is to tend to the security of the country, Joshua. And speaking of which, Mr. President, I want the rest of the National Guard federalized.”

“All of them?” the president asked mildly. “I’ve already given you two divisions.”

“Yes, sir. Every single one. And while you’re at it, start thinking about the draft—especially if you want me to divert troops for humanitarian missions as Joshua requested.”

Brenham stared balefully at the four star general, but made no other comment. He had already argued privately with the president about the matter.

“I think our own country has to come first,” President Marshall said. “However, we can try working with the U.N.”

“With what?” General Borman asked.” He shuffled the briefing papers on the table in front of him, as if to remind the president again of how thinly stretched his forces were. “We’re going to lose a good many of our expatriates as is. We simply haven’t got the facilities to get to every damn corner of that benighted continent, much less start meddling in the Middle East again. If we do anything at all, it should be to help secure only the plants that we know for certain are going to be abandoned, and if we have to, try to grab selected oil fields. But while we’re at it, you’d better get Homeland Security to pay attention to our own nuclear facilities. The way things are going, some of the mobs may try capturing one to hold over our heads.”

“For what?”

“Damn it Joshua, you know as well as I do. Most of the blacks in this country think the white race started the virus and that we can cure it if we have a mind to. That’s what I’m talking about. They may take a plant hostage and demand that we produce a cure.” He stared belligerently at the Secretary of State, willing him to understand.

“Gentlemen.” The president’s voice stopped the bickering. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll federalize the rest of the National Guard and authorize calling up the inactive reserves as well. I’ll go to Congress and ask for a draft, but don’t expect any action there immediately. You know how slow work.”

“That’s okay, Mr. President,” General Newman said. “We need to get the Guard units up to speed first.

Hell, even if we had a draft and just ran the draftees through minimal training, we’re talking several months before we’d get much use out of them.”

“Fine, General. Now for the rest of the agenda. I want you to make plans to secure those few nuclear plants in Africa, then your next priority will be to make sure the U.S. has sufficient oil to last us through this emergency. If you have to invade some country, let me know and I’ll authorize it. No, better than that. I’ll give you a written directive now, authorizing the joint chiefs to use such force as they see fit, anywhere they feel it’s necessary, in order to assure our country has sufficient energy supplies and to keep it safe and functional. I’ll have it drawn up and get it to you later in the day, after my staff dresses it up in enough ambiguous language to stymie muck-racking reporters and the opposition in Congress.

“And Joshua, I want you to work with our U.N. ambassador and see how much help you can wring out of those yahoos. Tell her…”

Despite his personal dislike of the man, Joshua had to admit that he could make a decision when warranted. This time, though, he would have to get a new secretary of state to carry out his doctrines.

“Mr. President, I’m sorry, but I shall have to tender my resignation today. It seems as though I have the Harcourt Virus. I won’t be able to work any longer.”

The other two men at the table instinctively drew back from Brenham, even though intellectually they knew they couldn’t be infected.

“Joshua, I’m very sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. I would simply hope that you’ll keep the research on the Harcourt Virus going at full speed, particularly at the CDC. That’s the only real hope for us unless some other country comes up with more than we have so far.”

“England and what’s left of the European Union are devoting as much of their resources as possible to a cure and a vaccine, Joshua. Maybe between them and us, or perhaps in other countries, we can come up with something before…” His voice trailed off, but Joshua knew what he meant.

“I sincerely hope so, Mr. President. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to go home and be with my family.

General. Mr. President.” He nodded at both of them and took his leave.

After he was gone, President Marshall stared at General Newman, who seemed to be lost in thought.

“General, is your mind moving in the same path as mine?”

Newman smiled thinly. He knew exactly what the president was thinking. “Yes, sir. If we can hold the country together, and this thing doesn’t start a world war, it will have taken care of one big trouble area in the country.”

“Exactly. No more race problems.”

“Black race problems, at least,” Newman agreed, nodding to himself. “The virus will effectively eliminate all the damn promotion quotas, outreach programs, affirmative action, interracial discord and all the other factors involving race that the army or the country shouldn’t have to worry about.”

Doug yawned despite the coffee he had consumed during the night and the two additional cups he had with the breakfast June made for them.

“Sleepy?” June asked when she saw Doug trying to cover it up.

“Uh huh. A sudden change in sleeping patterns is hard on the body. Then just about the time we get used to it, we’ll be off for a week, then on the day shift, then on the evening and so on.”

“I’ve worked days most of my career. Isn’t there an easier way to do it?”

“Sure. Stay on the same shift all the time. But with this many people, you’d always have some who didn’t like the hours, regardless of which rotation they were on.” He yawned again. “Listen, I’d better go hit the sack. Thanks for the breakfast.”

“I enjoyed doing it.”

Doug stood up and June walked him to the door. He stopped there before opening it. “June, how about when I’m on my week off? Can we get together then?”

She smiled at him. “We don’t have to wait that long. Why don’t you come over Wednesday evening for a little while if you can. Call first, though. Amelia has me putting in overtime most days.”