Richard Stephenson - Collapse

Malcolm debated on whether or not he wanted to see any more. Against his better judgment, he asked, “Computer, show me the Lincoln Memorial.”

An image of the Lincoln Memorial filled the wall. The outer structure was just as it was before Washington fell to the rioters. Malcolm felt a sense of relief, but, just to be sure, wanted to check on Honest Abe. “Computer, zoom in to the inside of the monument.”

The image zoomed in and focused on the statue of the sixteenth president. President Lincoln was sitting in his chair, hands on each arm. The man himself was unmolested, but something was in his lap.

“Oh my God!” Is that what I think it is?” Secretary Decker said with terrified eyes.

President Powers was speechless. He was no stranger to the gruesome acts of violence that accompanied war. He had seen things like this many times before, but never on American soil.

Stacy Reid had tears streaming down her face. Director Jimenez was trying to scream in anger, but instead began a coughing fit that lasted for several minutes.

Admiral Mack was the first to speak. “We have to take back the Capital. We can’t allow this to go any further.”

President Lincoln’s legs and feet were drenched in blood. In his lap was a pile of human heads, all wearing the Kevlar helmets of the Unified National Guard.

“Computer, turn that damn screen off! Now!” President Powers took a few steps and fell into a chair. Stacy could tell the president was on the verge of losing control. His face was bright red and he was breathing in and out at an alarming rate. He raised his head from his hands and swung his head from side to side, repeating the word “no” over and over.

Stacy leaned forward and placed her hand on his arm. “Mr. President, please. Please try and remain calm. Malcolm, please listen to me. You’re scaring us. Please calm down.”

Malcolm took in several troubled breaths and closed his eyes. Secretary Decker poured a glass of water and handed it to the president. Malcolm raised the shaking glass to his lips and drank.

“Thank you, everyone. Thank you.” The president paused for a moment to steady his voice. “I’m sorry if I’ve alarmed you. I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

“Mr. President, do you need to lie down? Should I call Dr. Miles?” Stacy turned and looked at Admiral Mack should the doctor be needed.

“No, no. That won’t be necessary. My wife’s doctor has his hands full at the moment. Please, I’m fine, really.”

The president finally cleared his head and regained his composure. “I’m sorry for that. I’m actually quite embarrassed, and I’m sure I can count on everyone’s discretion. The American people need to have complete faith in the office of the president, now more than ever.” Everyone in the room looked to the president and nodded their heads in agreement.

Admiral Mack quickly changed the subject so they could move forward. “Mr. President, with your permission, I’d like to report on the status of the Iranian blockade.”

“Yes, Admiral, please.” The president was grateful for the chance to regain control.

“Computer, bring up the status report from the Iranian Theater.” A detailed map of the eastern edge of the Iranian Theater appeared on the wall. “As you can see, the Enterprise and the George Washington , along with their support craft, joined the blockade forty-two hours ago. They have set up a secure perimeter in the Indian Ocean and have closely monitored for any Iranian submarines. I can report definitively that no Iranian subs have entered the Indian Ocean.”

“Thank you, Admiral; we could all use a bit of good news.”

Director Jimenez sat forward in his wheelchair. “Admiral, I hate to be the naysayer and I assure you I mean no disrespect, but how can you be sure of that?”

“A perfectly valid question to which I take no offense, Director Jimenez. We have our own submarines in the water and have set up a dragnet spanning the distance from Oman to Mumbai. Nothing passes the line without us knowing. If we wanted, we could pull up sensor reports and tell you how many fish have crossed over the line.”

Roberto Jimenez did not smile often, but upon hearing this, he did. “I’m impressed, Admiral. What about the radiation?”

“It’s getting worse. It’s continuing to fan outward from Bunker Five. The blockade is safe from the radiation for now, but the Iranians are continuing to dump radioactive waste into the air. I can’t begin to imagine the death toll in the region.”

The president returned to his desk and sat down. “What happens when the radiation hits the blockade? Will we still be able to detect enemy movement?”

“The blockade will be affected toward the surface. Depending on the level of radiation, our sensors will be ineffective from the surface down to about a hundred feet. However, if a sub tries to come to the surface, it will be easy to spot.”

The president was not happy with this development. “That’s not comforting, Admiral. We are vulnerable if that happens. If we let a submarine get past the blockade and head to our shores, well, I think we all know what’s at stake.”

“Yes, Mr. President, I understand your concern and I share it. We have hundreds of drones in the air watching the water.”

The president sat back in his chair and was silent for few moments. He thought about the blockade and once he decided he didn’t have any further questions, he changed the subject. “How bad is Texas?”

The president’s Chief of Staff hesitated. She didn’t know if the president could take any more bad news. The last thing she or anyone in the room wanted was a repeat of what happened a few minutes prior. Everyone in the room looked to her, reluctant to answer.

“I’m waiting for an answer.” The president was becoming clearly agitated.

“Mr. President, I think the best thing for us to do right now…”

“The best thing for you to do right now is not to coddle me like a child and answer my question. Or do I have to find out for myself?”

“Yes, Mr. President, of course. My apologies. Computer, show us the Gulf of Mexico.”

A map of the Gulf of Mexico and the Texas coastline spilled across the wall. The path of Hurricane Maxine was indicated by a series of lines cutting across Galveston Island and ending north of Houston. An overlay of the power grid indicated that the majority of the state was in the dark.

“Computer, display the I-45 corridor from Galveston to Houston.”

The people in the room could only hope that the image was incorrect, because the only thing they saw on the screen was water.

“This is a nightmare,” Charles Decker lamented. “We have no idea how many people drowned in that, do we?

“I’m afraid not. It’s been over a month, and the death toll in Florida is continuing to rise. It will be some time before we know the final figures in both states,” answered President Powers.

“Computer, zoom in on downtown Houston.” The president braced himself.

Houston had been decimated. The city was underwater and many skyscrapers had either fallen or were leaning over, resting on their neighbors. The flood covering Houston was filled with debris. Cars, houses, trees, traffic lights, and raw sewage sloughed around. Admiral Mack took the initiative and walked over to the screen. He raised his hands to interact with the computer and with a series of gestures, zoomed and panned around the destruction. People could be seen floating on billboards and standing on rooftops. Admiral Mack chose a section and zoomed in even closer to see a large collection of corpses that had floated into what appeared to be a large parking lot and rested against the side of a building. After a few seconds passed and recognition kicked in, he quickly zoomed out of the image and left it as it had been before.