Eric Thompson watched the other executives file into the large meeting room, taking their places around the long oval table. Danielle, his long-time second-in-command, sat nearby.
He smiled. “What are you thinking about?” Danielle asked.
Eric sighed. “I remember being seated at the far end of this same conference room, raising my hand to propose my audacious plan, the one that became Unlimited Partners. It seems like only yesterday, and somehow at the same time, an eternity ago. And now I sit at the head of the table.”
“You’ve earned it,” Danielle assured him. “I’ve seen it every step of the way. You deserve to be there.”
Eric looked sanguine. “And now I’m about to lead the most important meeting of this company’s short existence.” He turned to look at Danielle. “This job never gets any easier. But at least it’s occasionally rewarding.”
“Don’t fret,” she cooed. “You’ve got this!”
He smiled confidently. “You’re right, I do. This’ll be fun and terrifying, like a roller coaster ride.”
“The best ride in the world!” she quipped. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
The conference room was finally full. The television on the wall stopped displaying the “Unlimited Partners” logo, and showed a live video feed from the Oval Office in the White House. The President sat there, flanked by the Vice President, a highly medaled military officer, and a large man in a dark suit and sunglasses. Behind him, through the windows, was the usual view of the White House greens, though it had largely turned brown. In the distance, columns of smoke rose in the air.
“Good morning, Mr. President,” Eric Thompson began. “How are things?”
The President nervously looked behind him, then at the camera. “Oh…you know…the usual. How’s the mood in Millenniaburg?”
“Electric!” Eric crowed. “We’re the toast of the country.”
“While the country is simply toast,” the President grumbled. “Seems fitting.”
“We hope to turn that around,” Eric declared. “But we need to know how much leeway you’re willing to give us. We’ve all read the proposed joint statement, and parsed it as thoroughly as we can. And we like it…don’t get us wrong…it’s very diplomatic. But it was our understanding that our authority was to go further than you propose.”
“That statement is just an outline,” the President explained. “One for public consumption. We’re going to send your full authorization after this meeting, under the previously-established nondisclosure agreement. Just as soon as we hash out the final details with you, right now.”
“Can you summarize our true authorization, then?” Eric inquired.
The President exhaled sharply as his shoulders slumped. “Remember…nondisclosure.”
“We’ll keep our end of the deal, sir,” Eric assured. “What are you trying to tell us?”
The President hung his head, and didn’t speak for several seconds. When he finally looked up again, his eyes were filled with tears.
“Total capitulation.”
“What now?” Eric sounded alarmed.
“If this was wartime, we’d call it unconditional surrender,” the President continued. “Right now, the only thing holding the country together is ignorance of just how bad the real situation is. The federal government no longer has any real control. Our treasury can’t fund anything; the central bank can’t inflate the currency anymore. I can’t remember the last time we sold a T-bill. The military has gone unpaid for weeks and, at this point, has largely deserted; its members have joined the ranks of state militias, taking military hardware with them, and anything else that isn’t nailed down. That is, if we’re lucky. Some of them have joined up with out-and-out criminal gangs.”
The conference room was silent. Eric’s mouth hung open slightly.
The President leaned in. “All that’s preventing total chaos is the idea of the federal government. Our only plan is to project an image of strength until a new authority can unify the nation again.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “And we hope that’s you.”
Eric took a deep breath. “Well, we hope it can be, too. Though we’ve never taken on a project of this size. But let me assure you, we’re preparing for it as well as we can.” He clicked a button; a diagram appeared on part of the TV screen. “Our plan is to take control of the major cities, concentrating on the bulk of the population. Also, that’s where most of the chaos is. The smaller cities and rural areas have mostly avoided the trouble. It seems they already know how to behave, with or without our direct involvement.”
“And God bless them for that,” the President benedicted.
“One order from you, in particular, could drastically improve things,” Eric continued. “One that can’t be made public. But the law-enforcement community, and the military, are already accustomed to nonpublic orders, so hopefully this won’t be a problem.”
“I think I know where this is going,” the President acknowledged, sounding very tired.
“We realize our banishment policies made your problem worse,” Eric admitted. “There was no place in our system for people that simply refused to be part of the solution, so we deported them. And they took their sickness with them…to the rest of the country.” Eric leaned in. “Though you must admit, you welcomed them with open arms, out of some misplaced sense of moral superiority. Add to that your policy of not filing charges against rioters, simply releasing them, and the problem became much worse.”
“I readily admit that,” the President conceded. “I’d be remiss not to.”
“So…” Eric clasped his hands together, and rested his chin on his fists. “You need to instruct all riot-control personnel to restore order…by any means necessary.”
The President’s eyes shot open, alarmed. “It has to come from you, Mr. President,” Eric intoned. “It can’t come from us. For one thing, they don’t know us yet. But more importantly…if anyone looks to blame someone for this in the future, that responsibility needs to rest with an entity that no longer exists.”
The President looked stricken. “I understand. I agree.” He made a gesture to the military officer; he nodded somberly and walked off camera.
“This should solve a lot of your problems at once,” Eric explained. “Once you make a show of force, those on the fence about rioting are likely to stop. When the looting dries up, there’ll be food and supplies available to law-abiding citizens. And of course, there’s no point in feeding people that have no intention of contributing to the world around them. Sad as it is to say…they’ve chosen to be parasites, and we need to maximize the survival of contributing members of society, if we’re to have a future.”
The President buried his face in his hands. “How did it come to this? I know these people aren’t the majority, but they cause an outsized amount of damage. Still…how are there so many of them?”
Eric grimaced uncomfortably. “Well, I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I talk to some very smart people, and I’ve heard some pretty solid explanations…what’s happening in the country is in line with what evolutionary biology calls ‘r-selection’ versus ‘K-selection’.”
The President looked up, his tears flowing. “I’m not familiar with that. Can you give me an executive summary?”
Eric sighed. “I can try. So, r-strategy and K-strategy are two psychological tendencies that living creatures use to ensure survival. R-strategy assumes infinite resources; K-strategy accepts limited resources. R-strategy encourages quantity of offspring instead of quality, K-strategy focuses on quality, as in survival of the fittest. R-strategy is the mentality of prey species.”
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“It sounds like the rioters,” the President conceded.
“That’s my viewpoint too,” Eric agreed. “There’s a growing acceptance in some circles that welfare policies, and copious illicit income, especially from recreational drugs, lead to people adopting r-selection.”
“I see,” the President grumbled.
“And obviously,” Eric continued, “K-selection is the mentality of predator species. It’s a more natural fit for human beings.”
“Are you making excuses for human predators?” the Vice President accused.
“With all due respect, Mrs. Vice President, we are predators,” Eric countered. “Our eyes are in the front of our heads. If we were prey, our eyes would be on the sides, so we could look for predators. And we have teeth for grinding, tearing flesh, and pinching off; in short, biologically speaking, we’re predatory omnivores.”
“Well, I find your views to be highly offensive!” the Vice President protested.
“You can try to deny biological reality, but you’re not likely to succeed,” Eric quipped.
“What?! How dare you!” she screeched.
“For Pete’s sake, Hannah, that’s enough!” the President scolded. She shut her mouth, her eyes burning. “We’re here to capitulate, remember? We’re hardly in a position to defend our leadership.” She didn’t reply.
“I have so many advisers,” the President commiserated. “So many academic think tanks, so many credentialed experts trying to get my ear. And yet I’ve never heard of this before, even though it answers so much.”
“It’s the old struggle between truth and popularity,” Eric opined. “When the truth becomes unpopular, society goes straight downhill. Personally, I think social media makes it worse; unpopular truths can literally be shouted down. That doesn’t help anyone.”
“But what could they possibly have to gain from keeping me ignorant of this?” the President pleaded.
“I’ve long believed it was a Faustian bargain to ensure re-election,” Eric answered.
The President looked up. “How do you mean?”
“Generous public-assistance policies created an underclass dependent on the government,” Eric explained. “Superficially, that made the government more powerful, more relevant. In order to survive, this underclass had to continue to vote for politicians that would give them what they needed. That encouraged politicians to give them more, taking from the productive and giving to the unproductive, thereby encouraging nonproduction. This created a terrible feedback loop that has destroyed democracies in the past. When more than half of the people vote their hands into the wallets of less than half of the people, society goes straight downhill.”
“I thought you said it was when the truth became unpopular,” the Vice President interrupted, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
“Either one is sufficient,” Eric countered. “In our case…both have happened.” She didn’t reply.
The President buried his face in his hands again. “We were just trying to help them!”
“It’s like the old saying goes,” Eric pointed out. “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”
“Is that from your Holy Book?” the Vice President mocked.
The President’s gaze suddenly became very steely. “That’s enough, Hannah.” He gestured to the dark-suited gentleman. “It’s time. Do it.” Without a word, he grabbed the Vice President by the hair and began to drag her away; she shrieked terribly. Just out of frame, the back of the guard could be seen bending quickly toward the ground, followed by a loud thud. The screaming stopped instantly, replaced by pained groans. As the conference room watched in stunned silence, they could hear a door opening and closing, followed by what could have only been the sound of a gunshot. Seconds later, the guard returned and, without saying a word, simply nodded to the President, and returned to where he had been standing, once more glaring into the camera.
“That was a long time coming,” the President explained. “She was responsible for a lot of our more disastrous policies. Besides, one more death is hardly going to be noticed, given what’s about to happen. But most importantly, I want to make something perfectly clear…I’m completely on board with whatever it takes to fix the problem. This country will be put back on the right track…by any means necessary.”
Eric managed to speak. “I’m glad to hear that, Mr. President. I just wonder how much better off we’d all be if you showed such resolve earlier.”
The President smirked. “I don’t have to stand for re-election anymore.”
That broke the tension; the conference room erupted in laughter, though it died down quickly, replaced one again with a stunned moroseness.
The President sighed; he looked much more relaxed now. “Is there anything else you need from me, at this time?”
“Just one more important issue,” Eric answered. “States are not currently allowed to declare bankruptcy. They need to be able to. And they need to let cities declare bankruptcy. Not all of them allow that. But there’s no other way to deal with the massive leveraging.”
“Sounds reasonable,” the President agreed. “I’m sure you can’t afford to bail them all out.”
“Actually, Mr. President,” Eric corrected, “we don’t plan to bail out any more.”
The President looked up, startled. “What? Why? I thought that was how you worked. You assumed Millenniaburg’s debts, and bailed out any number of small towns. You’ve been very consistent about that.”
“That was an incentive, for those that got on the bandwagon early,” Eric related. “The holdouts are not going to be rewarded for their sloth. At best, they’ll get non-voting stock. But that’ll only be for assets that are still in good shape. We don’t expect there will be many of those.”
The President frowned. “I guess that wasn’t entirely unexpected.” He looked down at his desk briefly. “We’ll send out an updated joint statement, for your approval, very shortly. But before we part…is there anything you can do to help us? You know we need as much help as we can get, with what’s about to go down.”
“Actually, there is,” Eric shared. He looked up at the conference room. “I think you can all go now,” he announced. “The business-oriented portion of this meeting is over.” Most of them practically jumped out of their chairs, striding quickly for the exit, a few throwing haunted looks over their shoulder back at Eric, before closing the door behind them. Eric sighed, and turned to Danielle. “Too much truth for one day, I guess.”
“The truth is rarely popular,” she quipped.
Eric addressed the President. “We had a similar problem in the early days of Millenniaburg, before we opted for banishment. We can send you a series of shipping-container drones; we’ll fly each one away as soon as you fill them up with your dead. And for the ones who are still alive…we can retrofit a device into your prisons, which will kill them efficiently and place them in a shipping-container drone, in one step!”
The President managed a wan smile. “I’ll pass that on to the interested parties. I predict that service will be getting a lot more business in the near future.”
“Good business is where you find it!” Eric quipped. “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. President…notwithstanding.”
“Indeed.” He clicked off the video feed.
Immediately, Eric slumped. “What’s wrong?” Danielle asked, concerned.
“We’re back in the mass execution business,” Eric pined.
“It’s only temporary,” Danielle reminded. “Also, you had to know that you couldn’t just deport your problems away.”
Eric turned to Danielle and smiled sadly. “I know…but it was so easy to forget that. Deportation was so bloodless. And the cities receiving our exiles were so arrogant about it. Somehow, I felt like the problem was solved. But it was just deferred.” He buried his face in his hands. “I’m not like the President; I don’t have that killer instinct.”
“And what happens if you blink?” Danielle asked. “Mass starvation? Fighting for scraps? The parasites dominating the creators by virtue of sheer violence? Until there’s nothing left and everyone starves? In that scenario, the useless are going to die anyway. This way, not only do the useful get to live, but the useless die in a much more humane way, and valuable resources are preserved. Just remember, you’re on the side of good here.” Eric looked up at her; she continued. “And good triumphs over evil…but sometimes good has to be more violent and even nastier than evil.”
Eric chuckled. “You’re right, of course. I just have to suck it up for a while. They only need to be culled to the point where their self-destructive way of life can’t dominate anymore.” He took a deep breath and exhaled evenly. “And I just need to keep telling myself — it’s only temporary.”
“Besides, you’re missing a very important detail!” Danielle cheered.
Eric’s brow wrinkled. “What?”
“Today was an historic day for Unlimited Partners! What do people normally do after a major victory?” she asked, smiling coyly.
Eric blinked a few times. “Oh, right. I lost my focus and completely forgot.” He slammed his fists to the table. “It’s time to party!”
“Mass celebration,” Danielle corrected, waving her finger.
“Oh, right. Gotta keep it classy. Black-tie affair at the convention center?”
“I was thinking more of the state fairgrounds,” Danielle offered. “Concerts, food, games, face painting, that sort of thing. I’m sure I can find a large hall for your formal gathering.”
“Sounds perfect,” Eric agreed. “Something for everyone!”