Plague

CHAPTER 23

The Ritz-Carlton sat on three acres of beachfront property and looked like a photo out of a tourist magazine. Normally, crowds swamped the hotel’s two pools and half a dozen tennis courts. A restaurant there named Ice served lush Hawaiian inspired cuisine on a large veranda that was open year round.

But that’s not what it appeared like now. As Samantha pulled up on her Ducati and parked, she thought it looked like a crime scene. News crews had set up on every inch of property they were legally entitled to and the rest of the space was taken up with military and police vehicles. Sam’s parking spot was across the street in a paid lot and she jogged over to the hotel. The concierge informed her that they were not allowed to take any more guests.

“No,” she said, “I’m with the CDC; the government. Please call Ralph Wilson and let him know I’m here.”

“Certainly. One moment.”

Samantha stepped back from reception and watched as a man spoke to another concierge, asking him if there was any way off the island. The concierge said there wasn’t and the man began to grow upset and swear at him. The concierge glanced to a group of police officers that were standing by the door and Sam could see him suddenly fill with courage.

“Sir,” he told the man, “I really don’t give a damn what you think. You can take your attitude and blow it out your ass for all I care. Now either get out of my face or leave my fucking hotel.”

Nerves were frazzled, Sam thought. This situation was frustrating enough but throw on top of that a looming food shortage and the closure of all businesses and you had a populace on the verge of violence. Attempting to be a courteous customer service rep for your company at that point was nearly impossible.

“Ma’am?” the concierge said to Sam. She turned and walked back to reception.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Wilson stated that he would like you to meet him at his table inside Ice. It is the restaurant at the end of that hallway and to the right.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Samantha made her way down the hallway and to the plush restaurant decorated in gold and black. The hostess pointed her right to Wilson’s table. He was seated indoors though the veranda looked much more pleasant. The table he was sitting at had views of the parking lot out the windows and his back was against a wall as he ate pasta out of an ornately decorated bowl.

“This place looks nice,” she said, sitting down across from him.

“Expensive as all hell. But I figured I wouldn’t be getting a decent meal after tomorrow. How’s everything at the recreation center?”

“A little over two hundred patients. We seem to average one new admittee per hour.”

“I looked over the list. Have you noticed how many were police officers?”

“No, I haven’t had time to go through it.”

“Honolulu Police have small numbers, around nineteen hundred officers. Over a hundred of them are in your rec center. And those are only the ones that have actually sought medical attention. I’m betting a fair number have stayed home.”

“It’s something to keep an eye on I suppose.”

“It’s more than that,” Wilson said, taking a sip of the red wine that was on his table. “There are certain professions that a society cannot survive without. The first is maintenance crews. Our infrastructures require constant maintenance. Projections have shown that, without maintenance crews, the city would not be able to function within one month. Within three months, nature will have taken back what we took from it. The city would be in ruins, just like what you’d find in Rome or Constantinople. Just with taller buildings.

“The second profession a society cannot survive without is police officers. If the police force is disabled it’ll mean chaos for this island.”

“It’s just a small percentage now. I’ll call the chief and make sure he switches up the crews and has them protected for their shifts.”

“That won’t be enough. He needs to run on a skeleton crew of volunteers. As the outbreak spreads the police will be more fearful of contact. They’ll be as good as on vacation anyway.”

“I thought you wanted to maintain order?”

Wilson took a large bite of pasta and finished chewing before speaking again. “There was a fascinating study conducted at UCLA. It was done by graduate students in the sociology department. They wanted to test enticement of crime in minority populations, but that’s not what the study became famous for.

“They would park luxury cars in high foot traffic areas and leave the doors ajar. Not wide open, but far enough that anyone walking by would notice. They left Cadillacs and BMWs and Lexuses on this abandoned strip of land next to an empty retail shop with no one around, so that the pedestrians felt that they wouldn’t be caught if they felt like rummaging through the cars or taking them. For days, nothing happened. Not a single person even opened the car door to see what was inside. One day some kids were playing outside and they hit a baseball through a window of the retail shop that was about twenty feet away from the car. Within three hours, seven people had rummaged through the car and one tried to steal it. The next day, they had to abandon the experiment because too many people were attempting to steal the car.

“It was perception, Sam; that was the point of the study’s findings. Society itself is a perception. When the people saw the broken window they perceived the car as abandoned rather than simply stopped there. They saw chaos and responded appropriately. If the police presence is strong, the perception will be that there are a lot of police officers. If the presence isn’t strong and the perception is that there isn’t enough police, people will revert to the state of nature and turn into animals.

“What the chief needs to do is have a minimum number of officers driving around the cities, parking in high crime areas. They don’t have to do anything, just park there. It will be enough to create the perception we’re looking for.”

The waiter came by and asked if Sam wanted anything. She asked for a Perrier and fiddled with the fork and napkin that was laid out in front of her. “I can’t believe we’re even discussing this.”

“I know. Lack of order is a difficult thing to grasp when you’re accustomed to having order, but that’s the way it is. By the way, the governor’s orders don’t apply to us. You can freely leave the island if you need to but you have to travel by military plane.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled. “The first time we met, you had stayed up for two days straight preparing a report on the contamination of a well in a small town in Oklahoma. Do you remember that? I was so impressed with you that I knew you would be the type of person that would rise in the CDC, if you wanted to. I think one day, Sam, you’ll be handed my job. When that day comes, I want you to ask yourself one question: can you handle not having anyone in your life? I have no wife, no children. I’m away from home over two hundred days out of the year. It’s not a life everyone can handle. You need to decide if this is the path you want to take. Don’t take that decision lightly.”

He suddenly appeared melancholy and Samantha didn’t follow up with any questions. She figured it was something he would discuss when he felt the urge, although he had once mentioned in an offhanded comment that not having children was the biggest regret of his life.

“Anyway,” he said, taking in a large breath, “why don’t you stay and have dinner with me? Then decide if you want to stay or leave the island.”

“I have plans.”

“Oh, that Duncan fellow, correct?”

“How could you tell?”

“His face lights up when you enter a room. I’ve dealt with him a few times; he’s a decent man.”

The waiter brought her Perrier and she opened it as Wilson sipped more of his wine. They sat in silence a while, enjoying the calm atmosphere of the restaurant. She couldn’t tell if it was really calm or if it was just comparatively calm to the chaos and tension that were building outside of these walls, but it was relaxing nonetheless.

“I better go,” she said. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Samantha, in a few days, when the data’s compiled and digested, I’ll have a much better picture of what’s going on here. If it turns out to be what I think it is, I’ll be having you sent back to Atlanta.”

“What? Ralph, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“This isn’t about that. You don’t know what can be unleashed here. This will become a fully military-run operation and there’ll be no need for us anyway. But we’re not to that point yet. I was hoping you’d go back voluntarily but I had a hunch you wouldn’t. I just wanted to tell you so there are no surprises. Now go have fun before they close everything.”

Samantha left the restaurant and as she started her bike, she noticed for the first time how empty the streets were. The sun was high though it was late in the evening and there were no clouds.

She wondered how it was that a paradise like this could be harmed by anything.