Original Position

Much like the environment, the government had used "policide" to manage racial tensions, a term used to describe the attempt to publicly kill a crisis through extensive policies. It was an effective agent: many came to believe that problems treated with policide were dead. In truth, the government had effected legislation to accord itself an absolution from the hell that its self-denial would breed. In its wake, large expanses of time passed without incident: temperatures were generally favorable, and overt racism had seemingly ended. But sometimes, wildfires raged across the midwest and a black family was torn out of their home in the night by an angry mob. Sometimes, families sold future generations to conglomerates to feed themselves. In many ways, it was easier to deny what was happening to the world most of the time. But when the extreme cases started to happen more frequently, the time had come for a reckoning. Fate had launched its new product, anti-policide, and the adjuvant was a global pandemic.

***

The ad hoc committee, dubbed the Veil, was formed by the government, but forced to separate from it. In a press release, the United States government had declared this dissociation was due to unethical research practises. Insiders knew that was code for the committee's refusal to serve a US agenda.

The Veil recruited Peacemakers. They gave them money and a little black book, which they said was the key to solving all of the nation’s crises. They spread them across the country, promising a personal and social transformation as reward, and a cool $20,000 if that wasn't enough. They largely went unnoticed, except by the vigilant eye of the United States government. That is, until the pandemic hit.

Within a matter of months, it seemed, the country was on fire. Rioters took to the streets every night to oppose police brutality. The virus was killing at an alarming rate, and the health system failed to take care of the disproportionately affected black and impoverished people. In the summer, wildfires roared in California, and in the winter, Texas froze. These storms often extended into Mexico, but interestingly, the Coast Guard only monitored their progress until the border, despite the fact that the Border Patrol now occupied most of northern Mexico in an attempt to curb coyotes shepherding in la migra.

***

It seemed to Stephen Wentworth that despite the country's self-pronounced deluge of progress in recent years, what with its presidential background checks for prospective nominees, overhauled police training and mandatory diversity training for all children at the age of 10, there was still a sickly undercurrent of division. That's why he was surprised when he got the call from a government committee that he was needed for the coveted position of Peacemaker. He was sure that the committee had been dissolved: there hadn't been Peacemakers in years. He and his siblings grew up worshipping Peacemakers, especially after what had happened to his father.

***

Stephen sat in the board room, rubbing his arm from the needle the guards had pricked him with on the way in. He sat alongside four other individuals: three men, and one woman about his age, who smiled at him. Stephen smiled back. She seemed strangely... familiar.

Suddenly, an elderly woman at the head of the room rose and began to speak. She wore all white. Stephen noticed four other members of the panel, all dressed similarly.

"The five of you will be flown across the country to covertly effect change, armed with intel about upcoming attacks related to five crises that our nation presently faces."

Stephen looked around at the others. They all looked so calm and self-assured, as though they were born to conquer the country's most divisive problems, let alone during a pandemic. He felt like a kid again, full of childhood bravado but so unsure of how to act on it. When he touched down in his city, where would he start? Who was he to lead the country out of this mess, a veritable re-founding father? Did he really think he could rewrite history?

The elderly woman continued.

"Some of you may be wondering why such a formerly celebrated committee has waited so long to engage more Peacemakers. I'm afraid the reason is the same as the one for which you were masked on your way in: the United States government is hunting us".

At this, a couple of the men blanched, stirring in their sits. Stephen glanced over at the woman, who had no reaction. She looked so familiar to Stephen, but he couldn't quite place her.

"Health. The environment. Racism. Poverty. And one crisis that shall not be named. These are the 5 crises that face our country today."

With cold assertion, the committee decreed that all 5 be of equal worth in remedying the dire state of the earth. Their indiscretion was initially received with unanimous approval, as each Peacemaker had been hand picked for some previous trauma, some unimaginable fuel for vengeance, tempered, of course, with a perspective that only the other four could offer. The woman continued.

"We have remained in darkness for years, waiting to emerge only in a time of utmost need. Now is that time. This pandemic has had its way with the world, with a virus for which a vaccine won't be ready for at least six months. In the interim, we project several potentially catastrophic events that could permanently demark the fabric of our democracy, or what's left of it. You five will operate in total secrecy, avoiding death at every turn to rewrite the history of this nation".

***

Stephen parachuted out over his city, a light breeze billowing his clothes. He was ready to tackle any of the 5 crises. Already, he had a sense that all of the crises would be intertwined, and that despite his efforts to focus on just one, he would inevitably have to address all five.

He landed softly in the middle of a spectral street, arriving to... nothing. He had expected an angry mob, a riot, or diseased people in the streets. But the city was quiet. No cars or people's voices were to be heard. Something was wrong. A horrible mistake had been made. How was he to help the country if nothing was happening? Where was the chaos, the oppression, the danger?

He felt embarrassed. Maybe they had just given him a soft problem, something easier to handle. He checked in to the safehouse marked on his tablet, and waited until the nighttime call with the other Peacemakers.

At midnight, all of them connected to their tablets to discuss the day's work. The first man had made grounds on prospectively dampening all dry Californian forests, the second was launching a country-wide movement to establish black lives matter, and the third was organizing a cybersecurity hack to redistribute funds from corporate banks to the poor. They were all bold initiatives, and they needed more than the allotted $20,000. Stephen was relieved to hear the girl - who called herself Maya - announce that she had landed in a city whose healthcare was evidently under control. When it turned to Stephen, he admitted that he, unlike the others, had very little to show for his first day's work. By process of elimination, he worked out that he was apparently expected to address the mystery crisis, but had no leads of any kind. They all wished each other good luck and hopped off the call, except Maya asked Stephen for a quick word.

When it was just the two of them on the call, Maya whispered that felt in danger in her city. She had barely shown any resistance to the populist movement established there, but on the way home she felt eyes on her.

"I don't feel safe here, Stephen. After you mentioned you didn't have much work to do there, I thought I would ask if you can help me in any way. I need more protection".

Suddenly, in the webcam's field of view beyond Maya's head, the door burst into her safehouse and a group of men rushed over to Maya. Stephen watched in horror as they smashed her head into the desk and knocked her unconscious. The tablet upended and Stephen could only sit, frozen in terror, as he listened to the men drag her body out of the house. One man was still in the room though. He picked up the tablet and stared at Stephen with a calculated menace.

"You have until sunrise to wire over your 20 grand, or she's dead". The man carried the tablet over to a running vehicle, and showed Stephen Maya, who was now bound and gagged in the backseat. The engine roared to life and the man hopped in the vehicle, ending the call.

Stephen felt sick to his stomach. His head pounding, he began to pace the room, running through his options. He had to remain focused on ending the 5 crises. That is what he was here for. He had to figure it's what Maya would want. But something more instinctive welled up inside him: a love for this singular being. Maya was a human. Once she was safe, they could enact change on their own, without $20,000 or a government plan. With that, he wired the $20,000 to Maya’s tablet. He fell asleep terrified, hoping he made the right choice.

***

Stephen sat on a terrace overlooking the ocean. A man dressed in all white, who Stephen recognized as one of the Veil's members, approached him. This morning, he had been picked up by a helicopter from his safehouse and brought here.

"Stephen, do you know what your crisis was?”

Stephen felt on edge, uncertain. “I have no idea”.

The Peacemaker sat beside him. “It was apathy. You see, our experiment was legitimate: we took ordinary citizens and equipped them to exact change. But another crisis faces this country, and that’s apathy. Some people come from a position of indifference and choose to not involve themselves. You were our experiment within an experiment, Stephen. And when you chose to save Maya, you renounced your apathy and proved to the committee that this crisis, too, can be conquered. But of course, it was a symbolic gesture: Maya, your wife, is alive and well”.

The Veil member flicked his hand and Stephen watched, stunned, as the same man who had demanded the ransom on the tablet led Maya into the room. She sat down beside Stephen and they embraced with fierce passion, wordlessly exchanging love and gratitude.

The Veil member continued. “When you arrived to the Veil briefing, we injected you with a drug that targeted your fusiform gyrus and induced temporary prosopagnosia. We were, in fact, able to control when you could recognize your wife’s face, but not your emotions toward her. Your decision to wire the money to her from an original position, when you did not know who she was, was entirely your own. You proved that apathy can be overcome by love. Your wife was in danger, much like minorities, black people, the impoverished, the environment and our health care program. And you assessed the decision from an original position, as much as one can realistically do in such a crisis. Why don’t you open your book, Stephen?”

Stephen was crying now. He opened the book, a small black Moleskine. On the first page was a title: “I tried”. Under it, an empty list save for two words: Stephen Wentworth.

The Veil member smiled. “Because in the end, Stephen, maybe taking on these pains for yourself means one less person has to. Maybe, the whole world will have to know this pain before it can end for everyone. You don’t need $20,000 or a government policy to do so. Now get out there and fill that book with names!”

Goodness knows there was still time. The year was only 2521.