In his Boston offices, Knight Fowler was looking across his desk at a scientist bearing bad news. The man was prematurely balding, pale, and under-exercised, a faded man in his fading thirties, an earnest innocent, devoid of political sophistication. “I thought you should see these results right away,” he said.
“Why don’t you just give me the essence?” Fowler said.
“Okay. Several months ago you asked our demographic research section to run some simulations concerning dramatic population reductions.”
“Thinning out.”
“Yes. Thinning out. ‘Reducing the world population load,’ I think you called it.”
“Exactly. What have you found?”
“As you requested, we assumed that the three disease outbreaks that are causing trouble at the moment are pandemic, and go through the human population without medical intervention. No antibiotics. No vaccines.”
“You meant the really bad ones, that are already causing fatalities in India and New York—TB 6, Staph 7, and AIDS type 23?”
“Yes, sir, that’s the deadly trifecta. Here’s the bad news: We confirmed something I was particularly concerned about: There is a negative cascade effect. We’re calling it the Panda Cascade. We named it after the trend to extinction when the wild Chinese Panda lost its habitat. The computer models show that a deadly tipping point is reached when populations—like the Panda habitats—are just not strong enough to rebound, at least without high tech assistance. You take away the high tech assistance and they do not make it. It works out that the same model will apply to all human populations…when they are deprived of technology.”
“But there still are Pandas in the world, correct?”
“Yes, but only because they have become, in effect, human pets. The Panda population is maintained by artificial insemination. The entire species is now dependent on human technology.”
“Go on.” Fowler was shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
“Like the Pandas, we humans have become so dependent on technology that, without it, we can die out. We are easy prey for disease. Worse still, the deadly trifecta will be much more dangerous than in any past pandemics. Over the years, we’ve been in an arms race with the microbes. They will win unless we come back at them with the most advanced medicines available, the kind that Vector and Edge Medical produced. The kind that are now banned. The timing is also significant. Within ten months, every continent and island not already affected will soon be contaminated. The projections are truly startling. We face a population drop so sudden and catastrophic that the remaining population approaches non-viability.”
“Non-viability? What does that really mean?”
“An irreversible trend to extinction.”
“Good grief. Surely, you are exaggerating. I thought a certain percentage of the human population always carries an immunity to any particular disease.”
“Sorry, Mr. Fowler. That was true for the Black Death, and even for the early versions of AIDS. But these are super-pathogens, enhanced by decades of competition with modern medicine. And we’re talking about multiple pandemics coupled with the breakdown of civilization’s immune systems. We know that crowded, undernourished populations are disease incubators. But it is a modern myth that such disease epicenters can be safely allowed to burn themselves out. But every point on the globe is physically connected to every other by modern transportation. Disease propagation has never been more rapid; it is inevitable. And because antibiotics propagate equally fast among the wealthy everywhere, the pathogens can adapt ever more rapidly. A hundred years ago, 98% of the population of a continent could potentially die in a pandemic. In this era, assaulted by ramped up pathogens and a cluster of intersecting pandemics, humanity could go away entirely.”
“But extinction? Surely, you are overstating the risk? What about Asia? India? Africa? You must mean virtual extinction, centered in the ultra-high tech centers, particularly in Europe and America.”
“Sorry, sir. Our computer simulations project a ninety-nine percent probability that we will arrive at a point of no return. This will likely be the last generation of Homo sapiens.”
“Everyone? Everywhere? Come on!”
“Based on the technology-loss projections due to the Commission’s seizures of medicines, destruction of research facilities, we are rapidly disarming humanity against these diseases. EVERYONE. EVERYWHERE. You may recall that the Chinese and the Indian governments and all the Third World countries all signed on to technology retirement.”
“Couldn’t the medical technology be recaptured toward the end? Rebuilt?”
“Toward the end? Sir, I’m afraid that you’ve hit on the essential problem. The end is the point of no return. That is the beyond-all-hope point. It is definitely less than three years away. We can’t rebuild medical technology right away. The required infrastructure is too sophisticated. By the time things get so desperate that individual countries might try to break out of the treaty regime, it will be too late. Neither the Chinese nor the Indian drug industries were ever quite up to the challenge. America’s Edge Medical and Vector Pharmaceutical were the last enterprises with the technology and production capabilities to keep up with the new pathogens.”
There was a silence while Fowler struggled to assimilate all this. “Go on,” he said. His tone was suddenly bleak.
“It is a scale problem. Too little technology; too many clever pathogens; and ultimately the isolated pockets of human survivors would be too small to come back. Think of the Mountain Gorilla or the Neanderthal. And just like other extinct species, shrinking food supplies will be the final nail in the coffin.”
Fowler was now in shock. “You said this was a computer simulation?”
“It wouldn’t have been possible without the outlawed AI technology we are using.”
Fowler’s heart fell. How could he get the word out without revealing his own technology violations? “Can you make a convincing case without revealing it was a computer simulation?”
“Sorry. Then it’s just some wacko science fiction story, sir. Not enough credibility.”
“Do your best—your very best. The people I need to talk with need to be fully convinced, but my other friends could prosecute us for using banned technology.”
“I’ll get a team together. This will take time.”
“A small team. Show me the names. Rush it. No expense spared. This is ultra-confidential.”
“Of course. When do you want another report?”
“The very second you have something I can use.” The bearer of bad news left. Fowler put his head down, hearing the door close. After a few minutes, Knight Fowler picked up the phone—then he thought better of it. Who the hell can I talk to?
——
Knight Fowler’s hands were still shaking later that day when he dialed Longworthy’s private line. “Rex? I have a simple question and I want your word of honor that we did not talk. Agreed?”
“Of course,” Rex said. “You sound upset.”
“Upset? You might say that. What if population thinning got completely out of control? What would the Sisters think?”
“Knight, this is rhetorical question, right? We both know their ideology. They wouldn’t object at all.”
“What if I told you that… Rex, I have just learned something rather chilling from our very best people. What if humans could suddenly reach an irreversible point in this thinning process? A point of no return?”
There was a very long silence. Knight could hear Rex Longworthy’s labored breathing.
“How soon?”
“I have one estimate. Within three years.” Fowler had barely whispered the answer. The phone clicked. “Rex? Rex?”