“Intel 1, if I’m not mistaken.”
The soldier nodded. “That is correct. But the consensus—”
“They trumped the consensus five years ago. You might remember.” She rubbed her temples. “I wish we had more time to consult with them.”
The lights flickered momentarily, then steadied. York glanced around the ceiling and then back at the Colonel.
“They’re still working out some kinks in the new electrical regulators,” he said.
York shook her head and turned back to the window. “Decades of prep time and what do we do? Repeat the same mistake the world over! The pretty digital magic, all wired up here, the Pentagon, White House! Look at the damn walls! Everything gutted now! 1970s wiring is our salvation! Sophisticated environmental, solar-powered-what-have-you duct-taped to rusted generators. I’m starting to think that when it’s all said and done we’re going to blow it all up and the damned forests out there are going to swallow what’s left of us.”
She tried to focus, but the crushing weight of the crisis and the lack of sleep was breaking down her will.
“It’s not just us,” the Colonel answered. “Every country is struggling with this. Some have it easier: North Korea was so damn paranoid that even the worm is slowed there. And the third world doesn’t have enough of a modern architecture that they’re relatively intact from the direct effects. But the indirect effects are equally crippling, Madam President.”
“Yes, yes,” she said, waving him off. “The world is flat as the pundits like to say. A sneeze in Beijing or Washington gives a cold to the world. You know what it feels like now? Not like a cold, but like that plague Ebola is eating its way through the arteries of civilization! It’s like the world were a giant hive, and now it’s degenerating into thousands of isolated and panicked islands.” She tried again to focus. “Market report?”
“Securities trading restrictions have effectively brought them to a standstill. The viral bidding is completely out of control. Destabilizing. The evaporating monetary base, huge capital movements into and out of banks by the worm — they’ve frozen lending and shut down more and more banks. Liquidity is gone. Commerce has coming to a standstill. The food riots are growing and taking root in some of the most populous regions of the globe. Hell, right here in America.”
“More reports?”
“New York. Chicago. Atlanta.” The Colonel paused. “We’re losing control.”
Remember, remember the fifth of November.
When York didn’t answer, the Colonel coughed. “It is the consensus of the Joint Chiefs and what remains of the military advisement panel that we should implement Directive 51.”
York glanced sharply over her shoulder to glare at the Colonel. The rest of her body followed and she walked deliberately to her desk. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees, the scarred walls of hanging circuits and controllers feeling like violated strips of her own body.
“So it’s come to that.”
The Colonel spoke quickly. “The situation is critical. Standard Constitutional protocols are hampering our ability to respond to this crisis. It’s urgent that we temporarily suspend the government and act under the emergency directive.”
York nodded. “It’s frightening how well prepared the United States government is to abolish the United States government.”
“You would be overseeing all the branches, Madam President. Nothing is abolished. Power is only concentrated.”
“Yes, with the executive. With me, as you note. That is exactly what frightens me.” She sat down behind the desk and sighed. “I know about REX84, Colonel. You remember the Readiness Exercise of 1984? My father served on the Senate panel that authorized and buried it.”
The military man stiffened. “That was an important first step, Ma’am, the first real plan to cover something outside of nuclear war. It was needed! We weren’t ready for every contingency.”
She nodded, her fingertips pressed against each other. “I know. We’d seen it happen to other nations. Well, after REX84, all a president had to do was declare a State of National Emergency and bang! The machine would kick into full gear. Martial law. Military control of state and local governments. Detention of citizens who were scored as national security threats.”
“Simulations were run. It’s the best way to contain such crises. Maybe the only way.”
“But Directive 51 goes one step further, doesn’t it? Bush and Cheney made sure of that. At least with 84 we had a Constitutional structure, a president answerable, in theory anyway, to Congress and the Judiciary. But here comes 51, paying respects to the three branches of government, to separation of powers. But bottom line? The president has unlimited power.” She cough. “At least I won’t be called chancellor. But we don’t kid ourselves, do we, Colonel? Not when survival is on the line.”
Concentration camps. Military rule. Dictatorship.
“Everything’s temporary. Reversible once the crisis is resolved. Meanwhile, we can have some breathing room. We can act without the delays of Congress and the fiscal limitations! The only other option is to invite collapse of this government!”
The man was red-faced. York arched an eyebrow.
“So the analysts predict,” he said, passing his hand over his scalp.
“Here’s a mouthful for you, Coloneclass="underline" Ermächtigungsgesetz. German for Enabling Act. You heard of it?”
“No.” His face appeared strained.
“Passed by the Nazi-controlled parliament in 1933. They called it the ‘Law to Remedy the Distress of the People and the State.’ My father also taught about it in law school. It suspended constitutional authority and placed absolute power in the hands of the Chancellor, whom you may have heard of.”
“Ma’am, we aren’t Nazi Germany.”
“Neither was Rome, but it was easier for them, too. In hard times just turn over power to a strong leader. Doesn’t usually end well.” She laughed, closing her eyes. “Here we were the last twenty years, repeating the mistakes of the Weimar and serving as a script for George Lucas and Alan Moore. Do I make a better Susan or Palpatine, do you think?”
“This isn’t fantasy. This is serious. Look what’s happening! There’s a lot of concern about how to maintain order and preserve the nation through this catastrophe, Madam President. There are growing and serious divisions in the military.”
Her head cocked to one side. “Is that a threat, Colonel?”
He paled. “No, Madam President, what I mean is—”
She stood up from her desk, gripping its edge. “What you mean is that order — more to the point, loyalty to this office — is being lost. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, Colonel, what you’re telling me is that the military no longer has confidence in civilian rule. I see the beginnings of a coup.”
“You misunderstand—”
“Out!” she shouted, walking around the desk. “Go back to your handlers and tell them that they had better not underestimate my support. We’re at a precipice, Colonel, both externally and internally. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to bow to any pressure to burn our Constitution. Go back and tell them that I will ignore Directive 51. Tell them that they need to make their choices, and that those choices will define them for the rest of their lives!”
After a final, panicked stare, the man dashed out of the room. York stood in front of the door, trembling, pressing her fingertips to her temples again.
NORAD. The command structure there was solid, loyal. At least she hoped it still was. The location was even more secure. She would make arrangements to relocate the principle elements of government. But she had to move quickly. They were at a tipping point. The irony. She was as vulnerable here in this doomsday locker as anywhere.