Lethal Trajectories (46 page)

Few events shock the national psyche more than the death of a president. The loss of a father figure and its subtle reminder of human vulnerability and mortality compounded the grief. Clayton McCarty grieved along with everyone else in the White House. While he’d known Burkmeister was terminally ill, he had expected him to live for at least a few more weeks, maybe months.
I’d love to have just one more chance to say good-bye to him,
he thought mournfully.

A state funeral is the highest posthumous honor the nation can bestow on a person. That solemn occasion, steeped in tradition and rich in history, gives the nation an opportunity to pay homage to its fallen leader while individual citizens mourn in their own private ways. The time-tested protocols are precise, but a president’s final wishes are always honored. As a humble and unpretentious man, Lyman Burkmeister had asked the White House to keep it as low key as possible—an impossible feat as his passing dominated the 24/7 international news cycle.

The flag-draped coffin of the fallen former president was solemnly escorted in the ceremonial procession down Pennsylvania Avenue. The haunting drumbeat and rider-less horse accompanying the caisson carrying the president’s body brought tears to the eyes of the multitudes lining the street. Television cameras captured the moment, and people throughout the world felt the pain. A ceremony had been held in the Capitol Rotunda, where the president laid in state for a grieving public to pay their last respects.

The funeral at the Washington National Cathedral drew guests from around the world. Foreign dignitaries, heads of state, royalty and high-level government officials were seated according to the strictest of protocols, and the service was conducted by the late president’s trusted pastor.

Clayton McCarty gave a touching twelve-minute eulogy that celebrated the man behind the title. While acknowledging the former president’s many accomplishments, he devoted most of his speech to Lyman Burkmeister, his friend and mentor. With heartfelt words—often spoken in a choking voice with long, deep pauses—he described the man he loved and respected. He shared stories of his courage, dignity, integrity, deep spiritual convictions and the genuine love and concern he had for people. He explained some of the ways that he handled his presidency after learning of his terminal illness and the wishes he had expressed for
all
the people of the world.

Following the service, Burkmeister and McCarty parted company for the last time. President Burkmeister’s flag-draped coffin was put on a funeral train for the trip back home to Ohio and burial next to his beloved wife, Karen. McCarty left for the short drive to the White House. It was the end of an era.

In a sad but very real way, the passing of Lyman Burkmeister caused at least two important and positive things to happen. The first was the shift of the national mood from panic to mourning. As Americans grieved, they also realized that though the president was gone, life would still go on as always, regardless of the crisis they were now facing. It dulled the sharper edges of their fears; whatever came, they would muddle through and survive. While it was too early to quantify the change through surveys and polls, many could sense that something was changing.

The second thing was the extraordinary meeting of world leaders occasioned by the somber ceremony. Most noteworthy was the invitation extended by President McCarty and accepted by Chairman Lin and Wang Peng to stay at the White House while in Washington for the funeral.

The state visit provided an ideal opportunity for Clayton and Jack to meet with their Chinese counterparts, this time with public knowledge, which sent a powerful message about the spirit of collaboration to the world. One such meeting was held in the president’s private quarters on the second floor of the White House. There, on a cold, damp night held off by the warm glow of the fireplace, history was made.

“How are you doing, Clayton?” asked Lin Cheng, with concern in his voice.

“I’m going to miss him. He was a powerful mentor and supporter of what we are trying to accomplish.”

“Yes, he was,” Lin Cheng replied thoughtfully. “I remember well the conversation I had with him immediately following the Chunxiao Incident. Despite past differences between our countries, he seemed open to a constructive dialogue and did not leap into the condemnation of China that I’m sure many of his followers expected of him. Together with the good advice I was getting from Wang Peng, I started to see possibilities in friendlier relations with the United States.”

Nodding appreciatively, Clayton asked, “How are things going for you? Is your Politburo giving you a hard time?”

“So far so good, Clayton; they’re not jumping for joy over détente with the United States, but they’re starting to see the possibilities.”

“How about you, Cheng? How do you personally feel about the way things are going?” Clayton could see his question made Wang Peng uneasy and surmised that Peng’s boss was not one to discuss personal feelings.

“I’m comfortable with where we’re going,” Lin replied, with no hesitation. “I have no illusions about how difficult it’s going to be for both of our countries in the coming months, but we’ll weather the storm. I’ve been concerned for many years over the escalation of this maniacal cold war between our nations, and I deeply hope we can use this crisis as a springboard toward a more collaborative relationship.”

Clayton felt a warm wave of gratitude rising through his chest. When he thought about the climate-change challenges that went hand in hand with the global energy and economic issues, he knew their only chance was to act collaboratively. He thought carefully about how to frame what he was about to suggest.

“I share your concerns, and I think there are excellent opportunities for our two countries to work together after the current crisis is over. If we can learn from the immediate crisis and agree to pursue the relationship together beyond its resolution, it could be a very different world.” Lin Cheng nodded in thoughtful agreement.

“I know this is short notice, Cheng, but would you be willing to consider addressing a joint session of our Congress to share some of your hopes and aspirations for the future? If you’d be willing to consider it, I could arrange for it to happen within the next couple of days.”

Lin Cheng poured another cup of tea as he thought about Clayton’s suggestion. Clayton, Jack, and Wang Peng tried not to let their anxiety leak out into the silent room. They knew as well as Lin that this could be a pivotal moment in history. He stirred his tea slowly and sipped, buying a little extra time to think, and then answered with seven words that would shape Sino-American relationships for years to come.

“Yes, I believe I would be interested.”

A
t the time of his October address to Congress, Clayton McCarty had no idea his perfect storm metaphor would become a gut-wrenching reality by November. There were simply no precedents for the explosive fury of the storm.

The early shock waves from the Saudi crisis, in the form of rising energy prices in October, intensified in November and worsened thereafter with each passing day. Entire sectors of the economy staggered. Airline travel plunged and with it the hotel, restaurant, and vacation travel sectors dependent on airline traffic. Global commerce slowed to a crawl as de facto tariffs, in the form of increased shipping and distribution costs, acted like a brake on economic activity. The increased costs of extracting, processing, and shipping raw materials made virtually all end products more expensive. The price of food skyrocketed, reflecting the built-in cost components of fossil-fuel derivatives such as fertilizers, herbicides, and pesticides, not to mention other oil-based production costs. Consumer discretionary spending cratered as every spare dollar went toward the purchase of gas, food, or heat.

The global financial markets crumbled as unemployment rates in industrialized countries eventually reached Depression-era levels in excess of 25 percent. Safety nets evaporated as workers cashed in household savings, 401(k) plans, and other investments just to make ends meet. Families and communities focused increasingly on meeting the bare essentials of their existence as government institutions, overwhelmed at all levels, were unable to meet the needs of the citizenry. Looting and civil unrest were on the rise in America, and law enforcement efforts—like everything else—were hampered by a lack of funding. Famines and water shortages were taking their toll globally, and the ensuing migration of destitute populations in search of food and water created a proliferation of local and regional conflicts.

The unshakable belief in technology as the panacea for conquering all challenges faltered in the face of the immutable laws of supply and demand. Even Mother Nature joined the fury by producing the worst winter in recorded history. For good reason, historians would later draw on McCarty’s challenge and dub the period from October 2017 through March 2018 the Winter of the Perfect Storm.

Like everything else, the American political scene was in chaos. In an off-year election, the few incumbents forced to run for office were thrown out. President McCarty’s vice presidential nomination of Elizabeth Cartright was finally approved in early December, after a stubborn challenge from Senator Collingsworth and his allies. Congressional approval was also given for the newly formed Department of Energy, Transportation, and Climate-change headed up by Secretary Peter Canton.

Wellington Crane and Senator Tom Collingsworth initiated their road shows shortly after President McCarty’s October address to Congress. With the so-called McCarty Manifesto clearly in their sights, they launched their Taking Back America campaign with phenomenal success. In each of the first five cities holding rallies, they drew overflow crowds. Crane was tireless in his attacks on McCarty and his attempts to take away American liberties by rationing gasoline. “Big government run amok” became his mantra, and he seemed unstoppable.

As the perfect storm worsened, his audience started to change. Even die-hard followers grew leery of complaints and demands for quick fixes without potential solutions to back them up. When pressed, neither Wellington Crane nor Tom Collingsworth had any ideas to alleviate the crisis. Like the proverbial emperor without clothes, they were found to be long on bluster but light on solutions, and with it their appeal began to wane. By Christmas, they were forced to discontinue their road shows because of embarrassingly poor turnouts.

Never one to miss a beat, Wellington Crane declared victory and announced the closing of his road show as part of his patriotic effort to save fuel and reduce hardships for followers unable to attend for financial reasons. As a sop, he agreed to half an hour per day of increased airtime (and advertising revenues) to ensure that all Americans had access to his wisdom and experience.

The good people of Mankato’s Life Challenges Co-op fared better than most. They learned something about themselves and their ability to survive by working together. While facing grave challenges, they always managed to keep food on their tables and roofs over their heads, heat for their homes, and transportation to and from work for those still fortunate enough to have jobs. Pastor Veronica was gratified by the results and pleased to see a marked increase in church attendance.

Hundreds of similar grassroots organizations formed throughout the country, rekindling a long-lost spirit of self-reliance. People recognized that the government was overwhelmed and help would have to come from their own personal efforts—either as individuals or in collectives like Veronica’s co-op.

The McCarty administration gained traction and support as the crisis worsened. Realizing that McCarty was not to blame for the unpleasant steps needed to treat the disease, the American people began to appreciate his clear communication and to believe in his no-nonsense approach. He was there on the front lines, accessible to the media. And, as Americans so often do in a crisis, they rallied around their president.

The omnibus energy and climate-change program McCarty proposed to Congress in mid-November, entitled the Energy and Environmental Freedom Act of 2018, was debated and approved in record time. The EEFA-18, as it came to be called, incorporated most of the initiatives outlined in Safe Harbors.

McCarty told the American people that things would get worse before they got better, but held true to his promise to implement the EEFA-18 in early January 2018. America answered the clarion call for action by shaking off its long hibernation and launching a sustained energy and environmental plan that should have started decades earlier. The EEFA-18 backed a massive public and private planning effort to build a national smart-grid electrical infrastructure along with a coast-to-coast high-speed electric rail transportation system with connecting points in between. A new push for low-cost loans spurred the growth of meaningful alternative-energy and demand-reduction programs tied to a strategic national energy plan. Federal preemptions removed the local red tape that so often stood as a barrier to innovation. No one expected immediate results, but the collateral benefit of jumpstarting job creation for the construction of a new clean energy infrastructure pulled many back from the economic brink. America had at last identified the crisis and was now determined to address it with a national resolution not seen since World War II.

The federal government began the lengthy and painful process of living within its means. Lower-priority government programs were discontinued and resources redeployed for rebuilding America. Federal payrolls were slashed 15 percent along with congressional salaries in a show of shared sacrifice. Social Security, Medicare, and other entitlements were frozen and citizens forewarned that entitlement reductions would commence in June 2018. Commensurate budget cuts and reallocations were also made in debt-ridden state and local governments throughout the country.