R. Ruggiero - Brushfire Plague

Both Cooper and Dranko looked at him in shock for several seconds. “What?” was all that Cooper could finally manage.

Mitchell looked like a schoolteacher teaching the slow class, “You wanted to know what we did here. So, I’ve told you. I’ll tell you the why and then maybe you’ll understand. We had to do this. Mankind was killing this planet with his extreme wastefulness and lack of care. You’ve heard of global warming, haven’t you?”

Cooper responded first, “Of course.” But, Dranko was quick to follow, “Yes, I’ve heard of it. The threat has been a little exaggerated hasn’t it?”

Mitchell’s long arm reached out, pointing a slender finger aimed right at Dranko, “You see! This is exactly why we needed to act. The threat has, if anything, been under-exaggerated. The scientists, using skepticism and caution as their religion, only released the most conservative estimates, the most proven, of the coming damage.”

Dranko fought on, “But there were a bunch of scientists who disagreed and said there was nothing we could do about it.”

Mitchell shook his head back and forth and looked truly morose, “You see? No, there were a handful of scientists who disagreed with the scientific consensus. But, of course you heard from them quite a bit, seeing as they were funded quite well by the likes of ExxonMobil. There are a handful of scientists who deny the existence of nearly every scientific theory. It doesn’t mean those theories aren’t accurate.”

Cooper had grown impatient, “Yes, I get it. It’s a threat. I knew some said it could have catastrophic consequences. But, do you mean to tell us that you started this plague to stop it?”

“That is exactly what we did. The world needed a Reset. A breather from the bustling economic activity that was belching carbon dioxide into the atmosphere at rates that would lead to runaway global warming, and a catastrophe for civilization as we know it. So, we designed this plague to do just that.”

Cooper exploded, “What are you mad! You killed millions of people…including my wife!”

Mitchell replied coldly, “Actually, we expect the plague and the short-term civil disorder that will follow to kill between 500 and 750 million people. Gross Domestic Product will decline 20-30% for the next two to five years and it will take a decade or more for it to reach current levels. This respite will slow rising carbon dioxide levels dramatically, as well as give the world more time to see the effects of global warming and—finally—adopt the medium and long-term measures we need to avert worldwide catastrophe. Do you see now why we had to do this? I am sorry for your wife’s death. But, her death will give your son a future he can actually survive in. Name one mother who wouldn’t make that trade?”

Cooper looked on in exasperation at him, “Have you no faith in democracy? Yes, progress was slow, but we would have figured it out and done the right thing.”

Mitchell scoffed and his words dripped with scorn, “Progress was slow? Progress was non-existent. Figure it out? Not in time. The democratic peoples of the world traded calamitous scientific warnings for SUVs and tons of plastic crap made in China. Worse yet, they did it without even thinking for two seconds about the choice.” As he continued, his voice rose toward crescendo, “Think about it! Ninety-nine percent of the world’s best scientists told us that if we did not lower our greenhouse gas emissions we would leave our children, and certainly our grandchildren, a planet with vastly diminished ability to support civilization. What was the answer of the most educated and free population the world has ever known? In short they said, ‘Good luck with that, I’m going shopping.’ That was what your precious democracy gave us.”

Cooper gathered himself, “Yes, democracy is slow. But, it works. You took the easy way, the shortcut, and you took the lives of hundreds of millions of people to satisfy your cynical view of the world. The democracies—while slow—took on the great challenge of fascism and defeated it. We solved the crisis of the hole in the ozone layer and acid rain through democratic action. What right do you have to do what you did?”

Mitchell’s eyes were like steel, “When you see a fire, you act. You put it out. You don’t wait for a committee to decide what to do. That is what I did. You should be thanking me.”

Something clicked in Cooper’s mind, “Then show me. Prove to me why this would work and why it was the only way.”

Mitchell’s eyes brightened with optimism again. He took the next ten minutes showing Cooper graphs, charts, memos, and numbers all showing just what he had told Cooper. Midway through, Cooper stopped him.

“Hold on, pull that memo up again. Who was that one to?”

Mitchell didn’t hesitate, “A Mr. Thomas Wilkins.”

“Who is that?”

“He is a strategic advisor to the President.”

Cooper scratched his chin, “I thought I recognized his name. He was a big fundraiser during the campaign, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. Yes, he was.”

“So, the President knew about this?” Cooper could not contain his shock.

“Well, there is plausible deniability and all that rubbish,” he said waving his hand dismissively. “But, yes he knew. As did the major leaders in Congress and strategically placed corporate leaders. I assure you, the right people knew.” Mitchell’s pomposity irked Cooper.

Now, it was Cooper’s turn to let out a low whistle, “Continue, please.”

As Mitchell brought the presentation to a conclusion, Cooper handed him a flash drive that he had found lying on the desk, “Now, I want you to save all these documents and files onto this drive.”

Mitchell’s face clouded in fear, “Whatever for?”

Cooper smiled, “I’m going to give you a chance to be a hero, since that is what you think you are. I’m going to tell the world what you have done and you can answer directly to them.”

He involuntarily staggered a step backward, “Don’t be silly. The world is far too emotional right now. History will judge me a hero, but not now.”

“Well, I cannot abide lies or those who tell them. And, I have a greater faith in the American people than you do. After all, I lost my wife and I haven’t put a bullet through your brain, despite the opportunity. Maybe you’ll be as lucky with the remaining six billion people left on the planet. Now do it,” he gestured towards the flash drive with the pistol.

Mitchell grimaced at him, but he set to work saving the files. Cooper kept a close eye on him to make sure they were, indeed, being saved. After several minutes, Mitchell tossed the flash drive to Cooper.

“You know you will be making a huge mistake if you release those documents. You will be making a huge mistake for your son.”

“What do you mean?” Cooper shot back.

“You know what I mean. Right now, the plague is petering out. You’ve probably seen it for yourself. No new infections for the past 24-36, hours, right?”

“Right. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Already, for some the plague is now no more lethal than the common flu. In a few days, it will be like that for everyone as it mutates to its less lethal stage. Yet, society around the world teeters on the edge. If you release the information you have, you will send it over the brink, at least here in America. Think about it, all of society’s major institutions colluding in this great scourge? The rioting you’ve seen so far will look like child’s play. Not to mention what the rest of the world might do to America for unleashing a Weapon of Mass Destruction that has hit every country around the world,” Mitchell finished with a satisfied smile on his face.

The truth of his words burned in Cooper’s gut. He knew he was right. Mitchell saw the look on his face and seized the opening, “You don’t want your boy, to grow up in that America, do you? I’ve given him a chance at a decent life…and his children’s children…don’t steal that away from him for some hollow sense of revenge.”