First published in Uncommonalities Volume II: Bad Enough (Bratum Books)
It would’ve been bad enough without the new Chair being such a persnickety arsehole. After almost two years of tedious meetings, tedious reports and tedious comment reviews run by a tedious Chairperson, now they had to sit and suffer the tedious wrap-up meeting – in person no less – with the backpfeifengesicht of this Peter Principle poster-child replacement Chair leering at them all day.
At least this was the end of it, after today, no more committee, no more reports, no more meetings.
Job. Done.
###
At seven fifty-five the newly-minted Chair of the Virus Impact Assessment Committee nodded gently but clearly to the meeting room coordinator who, seeing the gesture, took one last look at the meeting room to ensure all was well – the screens projecting the slide presentation, the refreshments clearly labelled, the copper pitchers glistening with condensation – then quietly withdrew and closed the double doors.
It had been five years since the virus in question began working its way through the south east asiatic continent and then onto the rest of the planet, and three years since the planet’s health bodies had eventually managed to wipe it out, albeit aided through social distancing enforced by losing over twenty percent of the population. Another year after that to empanel and charter the committee, and one more year of the actual impact assessment. Five years to get to this point, the final meeting of the VIAC.
As the double doors clicked together, the windows tinted, gradually shielding the room and it’s thirteen occupants from the morning sunlight.
“It’s a shame this is a closed door session” grumbled Representative Nine. “It’s such beautiful weather here, it would be nice to finish this up early and make use of the extra daylight.”
A few heads nodded in agreement as the Committee Chair began standing to call the room to order.
“Good morning everyone”. The Chair looked around the room to ensure xe had everyone’s full attention. “We are a few minutes out from our appointed start time. It’s a pleasure to see everyone here on time, I appreciate the distance some of you have had to travel and I hope you took that time in hand to review the data for today’s agenda.”
Representative Eight cast an eye down to review the manila folder on the table, noting the condensation from her copper cup had besmirched the cover with a greenish ring, already a stain on the day’s work. The Chair continued.
“As agreed to in the founding charter, we make no personal representations here today, nor do we represent any particular political entity. I hope we can all remember to avoid using each other’s names and titles, I know some of you have worked on other committees together and it is vital to the findings of the VIPAC that we remain steadfastly neutral, unbiased and clinical in our report today.”
The Chair seemed to relish using the word “VIPAC”, enunciating it with a special attention to the “p”. Xe knew full well the official acronym was VIAC-pronounced-vee-ack, but xe had lobbied hard a year prior to include the word “planetary” in the official name and, having failed in this small but apparently meaningful mission had nonetheless decided to use the “p” in “impact” instead. A few Representatives who had been on the original committee when the previous Chair had overruled this nonsense, rolled their respective eyes.
The Chair carried on, oblivious. “As you know, the previous Chair was called away recently with some pressing obligations and as is customary the governing body chose a replacement and I’m happy to have received the nomination and I pledge to get us through today’s agenda with speed, but with firm outcomes. I believe in clear, actionable findings and I trust we all share this sentiment.”
More eye-rolling at the mention of “nomination”. The Committee rules were unambiguous; if the Chair is not available the replacement is chosen at random by computer to remove any bias in the selection. There was never any nomination, and to many of the Committee’s members the random assignment of the new Chair was perhaps the very worst outcome of all as the new Chair was a well-known stickler for detail and bureaucracy.
Representative Four raised a lazy hand, albeit without removing his wrist from the table. “I hope I speak for all of us when I say we hope to move through the agenda pretty quickly here, we’ve all submitted our comments and today should be relatively pro-forma, no?”
The Chair cocked xis head to one side and adopted a slightly quizzical, almost befuddled look, as if astonished at the lack of comprehension demonstrated by the question. “I think you’ll find there are a few bullet points still outstanding Representative Four, and I hope we can nail these down as a cohesive group today. Of course, if not, I know we have the room available to us for two more days.”
This startled a few of the more relaxed Representatives into action. This idiot was more than capable of keeping them here another day or two. Representative Six scrambled to his feet. “Motion to open item one!”. Three different Representatives exclaimed “Seconded!” and the Chair, still standing at the head of the table, glanced at the clock and noted the time as being exactly eight.
Xe smiled, stiffened, sat and said “Then let us begin. The Virus Impact Assessment Committee to review the impact of Ribovirium Coronavirus SARS-COV-2 is hereby in session.”
###
At the lunch hour, several Representatives chatted near the well-labelled refreshment table.
“We’re more than half way through, I think we’re good,” said Four. “We’ve reviewed overall scientific progress since the outbreak, global political disposition, housing and welfare, religiosity and arts and culture. I’m confident we can get through the agenda, even with the Chair going off-piste all the time.”
Six cast a sly eye toward the lone figure of the Chair, eating by xisself at the head of the table, underlining some key points on xis notepad while shovelling whatever that green stuff was into xis face.
“Is it xis or xers with this one, I always forget”.
Nine looked horrified at Six’s question, visibly shrinking from the subject, but Four had no such qualms.
“Who gives a xit?” he punned, pronouncing the word with a healthy dose of disdain.
Six snorted. “Ha hah!, “xit”. I like it.”
Four and Six had been the driving force all morning, carefully keeping the meeting on track despite the Chair’s inclination to get a little too “into the weeds” on most of the agenda items.
Nine wobbled forward. “We’ve been at this for a year now, with monthly videocons to make sure everything stays on track. This final meeting should really serve simply to tie a ribbon on the whole proceeding, I mean, what else is to be done, honestly? Wrap it up and wait for action from the governing body, they can empanel a new committee and try again.”
Six sighed. “I know you really want to get out into the sunlight, Nine. We can bang this out, I’m sure of it. All that’s left is the ecological review. I want to be out of here by three as well. I have a really, really long way to go.”
Nine quavered. “I’m thinking of taking a day or two extra here, just to get the Vitamin D, you know?”
Six nodded his understanding. “Let’s see if we can get started a few minutes early, no need to stand around here chatting. Let’s get back to work.”
The group murmured their agreement, and began reclaiming their chairs.
The Chair looked up from xis pile of greens and smiled. “We can talk and eat right?”
Four looked over, and with an extremely straight face replied, “Clearly.”
###
The ecology impact was relatively clear. During the course of the virus and its ensuing disease the animal population boomed, climate change slowed, pollution dropped by over seventy percent. Cities had cleaner air as the populace stayed home and therefore did not drive. Factories stopped belching smoke and pollutants into the environment. Manufacturing, for the most part, had slowed, except for the medical requirements. Masks and gowns and gloves and ventilators were manufactured in vast quantities, of course, but overall the ecological impact was positive. The effects, however, were alarmingly short-lived.
Representative Eleven was hammering this home.
“Despite the clear positive outcomes, the general population took the earliest chance possible to resume killing the planet. This is clearly a negative outcome and I motion for our findings to clearly state this. Assuming the governing body will undertake a secondary exercise these findings should be clearly guiding for the next VIAC.”
Nine jumped in. “Looking at these numbers it’s clear the larger, denser cities simply refused to carry on distancing causing two major secondary contagions. As soon as the weather turned for the better people were congregating outside. I think it’s somewhat understandable, people want to be out in the sunlight but still, they had every chance to consider their options for reducing their ecological impact.”
Six reviewed the paperwork, abundant with pretty charts and colourful numbers.
“22.9% mortality. Over a billion and a half dead. Two major resurgences and dozens of flare-ups of a virus that clearly could overcome antibodies. By the end of the pandemic the world’s surviving workforce was unemployed to the tune of 17.3%. National economies failed, and yet a damn baby boom? Nothing in these numbers make sense. Some of these reports show political leaders trying to restart their economies after less than eight weeks of their first peak. It’s mind-numbing stupidity. Clearly no matter what else we review, the impact of the virus on the global climate was overall non-existent. Sure, a blip in pollution, a slight slowing of the environmental temperature, and a, let me see here, six to eight year delay to the water levels becoming critical. But overall? Still on track to kill the planet in another 35, maybe 40 years. Clearly the next committee has their work cut out for them.”
The Chair leaned forward, surveying the twelve representatives gathered in the room.
“You do know we are still empanelled? Until we close this proceeding and issue our final report we have unilateral authority?”
Four and Six eyed each other, silently debating who would respond first. Four won.
“This is a power no VIAC Chair has ever exercised, and certainly your predecessor spoke against it in the extreme.” Four took great pleasure in pronouncing “VIAC” without the “p”.
He continued, “It is there for last-ditch reasons only, not to be used lightly. The understanding is we review the impact, and then we assess it. This is what we have done. This is all we need to have done. This is what we need to deliver to the governing body. In peace times especially, this power should be reserved for the governing body to exercise, not some VIAC that really, really wants to wrap this up.”
The Chair gave an almost perceptible shrug. “I would caution that the governing body makes their rules clear and unambiguous, the power is there, we’d be fools not to at least consider it. It would certainly help us get through this report if we can present a clear go-forward decision. As Chair of this committee I feel it is my duty to clearly follow and enforce the rules set forth by the governing body.”
Four shifted his weight and replied “I would caution that some of us want to go home. I would caution that Nine here really wants some sunlight. I would caution that Darin, I mean Six has an incredibly long journey ahead of him. I would caution that the rules clearly state you need a two thirds majority to even exercise committee authority. I would caution that we have less than thirty minutes left in today’s session, and if we don’t wrap it up I would caution you might have a mutiny on your hands. At the very least, Nine here will likely quit so he can spend a day or two in the sunlight and not in this tinted box of bullet points.”
Nine shrank a little, embarrassed to be singled out, but mumbled assent, he was looking a lot more pale than when they started this morning. Being inside all day, especially in darkened rooms, was especially not good for his health.
The Chair took a slow, deep breath. “Here’s what we know. The virus took hold rapidly. It crippled the world economy in less than twelve weeks. It killed a fifth of the population in less than a year. It rewrote everything everyone held dear, and yet within two years of the last confirmed new case, governments around the world were already jockeying for new powers, three wars broke out, and the resulting manufacturing boom of weapons and supplies wiped out every ecological gain made in the preceding years.And I would caution you, sir, that there are twelve representatives here, all of whom have equal vote. My role, as Chair, is to ensure the procedures are followed correctly, that we provide our deliverables, and that we act in the public good.”
Ten, who had been quiet most of the day, rapped his knuckle on the table. “What would get us out of here? If we can’t agree on the impact assessment, what action, if any, would the governing body consider action enough that means we can at least recess?”
The Chair had an easy response. “Release COVID-24”.
Four winced.
First of all, COVID-24 wasn’t the name of the virus, the virus’ name would be Ribovirium Coronavirus SARS-COV-4. Ribovirium Coronavirus SARS-COV-3 had proven to be less effective, not to mention the nearest source was several light years away from the target planet while there was a small stockpile of COV-4 on the next rock over, a mere six or seven light-minutes away. Second of all, firing another virus at the planet would mean the committee would be meeting for the next twenty-four months to document the activity, which would all end up in a second impact assessment. On the plus side, no way in hell would this meeting be going on tomorrow. He looked over to see Six stroking the longer of his two beards.
“If we launch the next virus now, assuming we have a majority, I assume we would wrap up here and meet in a month via videocon?” said Four. “Nine here would be able to replenish his chlorophyll and Six can get comatose for his ride home?”
Chair shuffled some papers and traced a pen down a list of items on the paper in front of xim. “Absolutely. We would simply add the next virus to the agenda and I’d need some bullet points for next month’s meeting, but otherwise, yes, we’d be done here.”
Nine gelatinously quibbled with the excitement of soaking up some extra sunlight.
Four: “A vote then?”
Chair: “Motion to vote on releasing a secondary virus to either reduce or eliminate the destructive mammal population on Planet 3, System Alpha-D 17, G-9, thereby reducing the negative impact of industrial activity on the natural ecology of the planet.”
Six: “Seconded”
Representative One: “Aye.”
Representative Two: “Aye.”
Representative Three: “Aye.”
And so on.
The vote was unanimous.
The Chair breathed relief. Xis role as Chair was now cemented for at least two more years, if not the full five. “Thank you all for your fantastic input, and your time and attention to this matter. Safeguarding the habitability of all Grade 3 and above yellow sun planets is a priority of this administration, and I’m certain our efforts will not go unnoticed.” The Chair looked around the room, hoping for some congratulatory sentiment on a job well done, but as a tri-gendered Quilvian xe knew full well the depths of disappointment these gatherings could plumb.
“Only one task remains then, do I have a second?”
Four glanced at Six, shrugged, and said “sure, I’ll second. Be done with it.”
The Chair made a note on xis notepad, underlined it, then took out a small handheld device. Xe keyed in the necessary passphrase, and pressed send. Just over 3,440 light years away a small puff of smoke appeared on the surface of Planet 4, System Alpha-D 17, G-9, known locally as Huǒxīng, Ares, or Mars. From that puff ejected a small missile, with a smaller warhead at the tip, containing billions of smaller organisms, soon to be known locally as SARS-COV-4. The missile began accelerating into its seventeen day journey to Planet 3, System Alpha-D 17, G-9, known locally as “Earth”.
Nine, now visibly translucent, flailed a limb of some kind, and the Chair pressed a button on the table. The double doors opened, and the meeting room coordinator entered.
“Could you help our representative from Capella outdoors please, he is in dire need of some sunlight.” The Chair turned to Representative Nine and added “And thank you Nine. Your commitment to the agenda in spite your photosynthetic needs are much appreciated by the group.” With that, the Chair clapped all three hands, the two outer hands gently clapping onto xis motionless middle hand. The rest of the committee grudgingly joined in, applauding Nine away as the coordinator wheeled him out into the rays of this system’s second sun, a red dwarf but still, there’s a pool and a bar and seven more hours of sunlight.
Four looked at Six. “When’s your flight, Six?”
Six looked up. “We’re gavelled out Barall. You can say “Darin” now. Tomorrow morning, but they have the new freezers here, it only takes an hour pre-flight.”
“So… bar?”
“Bar.”
Four and Six walked out, ignoring the Chair’s pleas to make sure their notes went into the shredder by the door and headed to join Nine poolside.
“How’s the kids?”
“Sick at home. With the wife.”
“Maybe you should stick here with Nine…”
They both laughed, and walked over to the waiting bar.
