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They'll deny it, of course. They'll pretend to be shocked that the President of the United States would say something so terrible. But I have read what they wrote over the past ten, twenty, thirty years, and I have done something unforgivable: I remembered it.
Sane people will do all they can to preserve every human life that can be preserved. Only the utterly uncompassionate will take satisfaction in the thought that the nictovirus will "reduce the surplus population."
Yet even now, these very voices pretend to be compassionate. They claim there is something unfair or even racist about forcing Africa to suffer this epidemic alone, and demand that the quarantine of Africa be lifted. What is their purpose? To allow the nictovirus to spread outside the confines of Africa and kill off a third to a half of the human race.
Here is the truth about these people: They want us dead. They have always wanted us dead—along with five and a half billion of our fellow human beings. But you and I and every other decent, compassionate person on this planet take the opposite view: We are determined to save every life we can by preventing the spread of this disease until we have developed a vaccine or an effective treatment.
"Too intellectual," said Cecily.
Mark, Nick, Lettie, and Annie were all in the living room with her, watching the President's speech on Fox News. Mark insisted on Fox because that was the news channel Dad always watched when there was any kind of important story.
"I understood him," said Mark.
"You're an intellectual," said Cecily. "I rest my case."
"I understood him," said Nick. "And I'm a videogame addict."
"It's about time we had a politician with a brain who thinks we have brains too," said Mark.
"Well excuse me for not having a brain," said Lettie, "but what does global warming have to do with the sneezing flu?"
"Didn't you know that global warming causes everything?" said Mark.
"Don't be sarcastic," said Cecily. "Lettie is like most of America—she has no idea what the President was saying."
"Maybe it was his strategy," said Mark. "Sound really smart so that the people believe you, imply that the global warming people are trying to spread the plague, and voila: You've just demonized all your opposition."
Cecily recognized the echo of her own skepticism in her oldest son, and nodded glumly. "I hate it when Torrent plays raw politics like that."
"Is he right?" asked Nick. "Are there people who really want to cut the human race in half?"
"There is a segment of the environmental movement that believes the human race should never rise above a population of about half a billion," said Cecily. "They don't advocate doing it by means of an epidemic, but presumably they will think that cutting the human race in half is, to put it crudely, a step in the right direction."
"So he's right," said Nick.
"He's right-zsV said Cecily.***96?
"Hey, you're the one who advises him," said Mark.
"I didn't advise him to demonize the environmental movement."
"Bet it works, though," said Nick. "I mean, they have to deny what he said, right? So they have to come out in favor of the quarant
ine, right?"
The phone rang. Cecily ignored it.
"Um, Mom," said Lettie.
"Um, Lettie," said Cecily, "there's nobody I want to talk to. If you're so worried, answer it yourself. But I'm not talking to anybody. Tell them I'm dead."
Lettie got up and walked into the kitchen, where the cordless phone hung on the wall. "Hello?"
"She's going to say you're dead," said Nick.
"Maybe it's not for me," said Cecily. "Did you think of that?"
Lettie walked into the room, talking into the phone. "I'm sorry, she's dead."
