Contracting Empathy

“How the hell could this have spread so far without us knowing!?” The President’s chief of staff was apoplectic, not unusual for the man. Furious tended to be his default setting. Rumor had it that he had started cursing in German when he was really mad, perhaps an affectation.

“Well?” The NIH director looked at the US map on the large screen with confirmed cases plotted on it and back to the chief of staff. “We don’t know. The symptoms are difficult to differentiate from… uh, other things.”

“Scheisse! How is it contracted?”

“We don’t know. We haven’t been able to isolate a virus or bacteria. We don’t know if it is spread through water, food, contact, or air.” This was going as poorly as the director assumed it would.

“What does the CDC say?”

“The scientists at the CDC have all been laid off. The DOGE techs there say it isn’t their problem.”

“Verdammt! The President won’t be happy!”

From a police report in Colorado Springs, Colorado- 'The perpetrator, Kenneth Bates, was the person that called 911 to say his neighbor, Roy Kantz, was trespassing. This was the third time this month we have responded to a call from either Bates or Kantz. When we arrived at 11:36am, Mr. Bates was standing over Kantz with a pistol in his hand. After disarming Bates, we determined Mr. Kantz had been shot in the left leg and we called for an ambulance. There was an idling lawn mower next to them, about half of the Bates’ front lawn had been cut. The rest of the lawn was very long. When I asked Mr. Kantz why he would mow the Bates’ lawn when they had been feuding, he said he wasn’t sure but it seemed like a nice thing to do since Mr. Bates had a bad leg. Mr. Bates stated that he was ‘defending his turf’.'

In Moberly, Missouri more than 400 people turned up on an abandoned block to build homes for the homeless. By the end of the week there were twelve new homes and more than 700 volunteers. All of the materials were donated by local stores. No one organized it and the only stated reason was that it seemed the right thing to do.

In Walla Walla, Washington the Penitentiary warden released all 2400 prisoners. When asked why, the warden stated that all of them were very, very sorry. Local residents took in those prisoners who had nowhere to go after their release. The warden has been detained by the FBI and many prisoners have been sent to other prisons.

“What the hell is going on!!?” The President was furious. He had his full cabinet in the Oval Office. None of them spoke. “A… a… a virus that makes people nice!!” He shook his head and sat back down at his desk. “Crime is down all over the country. Goddamn criminals are flooding across the border and checking in with Border Patrol, who are letting them come in! Police are helping people instead of doing their jobs. My voting base is being friendly with commie liberals, for Christ’s sake!!!” The President looked around at his Cabinet. “How the hell do we stop this?”

The room was quiet. The NIH director sighed. “Sir, we haven’t isolated the virus yet, but we’re absolutely certain it is airborne…”

“Well, Jesus, we’ll make it a law to wear masks! That seemed to work pretty good on that cofvefe virus. Get all those scientists back, too! We need to find a cure fast!” The President was pale under his colorful make-up.

“Sir, one of your executive orders made it illegal to wear masks…”

The President slammed his fist on the desk. “Then make a new order that makes it illegal to not wear a mask! Am I not the King! All of you get out of here now. Do whatever it is that you do.” As the Cabinet members headed for the door, the President bellowed at them. “And put on your goddamn masks!!”

“Steven, get Vlad on the phone.”

“Vladmir! Donny here… uh huh… yes… it’s here, too… of course you know. What are you doing about it there? Uh huh… yes sir… maybe. Uh, we don’t really have a Siberia or gulags… Yeah, maybe Canada… hmm, that’s a lot of people to shoot. Yes, yes… okay. My pleasure, thanks!”

Soldiers from opposing sides of the Pakistan/India border ate dinner together, sharing food and showing pictures of their children. There was talk of marrying daughters and sons. Drinking was abundant. No cows were slaughtered.

Pirates from the east coast of Africa brought large bags of fruit out to freighters passing by. Warring revolutionary factions in nearby countries stopped shooting innocent people. Stopped shooting any people, in fact. There was talk of coalition governments.

There were tens of thousands of Russian soldiers deserting their positions. The remaining Russian soldiers in Ukraine were given hot meals by the towns they had invaded.

Calming chaos spread through the world.

“Elon! Come in, come in!” The President was shaky and had to speak loudly to be heard over the noise of the pressurization machines that had been set up in the Oval Office. “Oh, I see you brought a child again… Ah, multiple children. Fantastic… Make sure they keep their masks on!”

Musk wore his usual jeans and suit jacket with a black t-shirt that said ‘404 error not found.’ He also had five children under the age of six with him. The monsters quickly spread through the office. The President knew they would break something.

“Mr. President, I brought back some of the CDC scientists we fired. I think the new operating system for the computers I installed will help them isolate this new virus! I’ve put my best people there to supervise. We should have this terrible disease licked in no time!”

“That’s great, Leon. I hope… Jesus Christ! Put that down! Rush Limbaugh gave that to me. I had it gold-plated to fit with my décor! I… I cherish it!”

Musk rushed over to wrestle the object from the boy who had pulled it off a shelf. “No, X-ray42, don’t touch things!” Musk examined the item. “What is this?”

“It’s the last microphone Rush used on his radio program.” The President took it and placed it on a higher shelf than it was before.

“It, um, sort of looks like a penis.” Musk came over to look at it closer.

“Well, it’s not! I think the gold-plating ran a little bit.”

The five children ran around the President’s desk screaming “PENIS!” over and over. The President was visibly shaking. Musk gathered his children and left the office.

The President pressed the button on the desk talky thing. “Steven, get Kennedy on the line. Yes, now!”

“Robert! How is the new mask law working? Oh… start arresting them then. What do you mean you don’t think it’s healthy? Uh, no, castor oil isn’t going to protect them. I don’t care! Listen, we’re gonna have a vaccine for this thing soon… Christ, I don’t know what’s in it! They haven’t made it yet!. Oh yes you will!” The President slammed the phone down. “Moron!”

“Steven! Get me Little Marco!”

The virus spread fast. There wasn’t a country on the planet that didn’t have infections. There were rumors that the virus had been isolated, but no one seemed to want to make a vaccine to get rid of it. Wars had ceased and criminal activity was almost nonexistent.

The Heritage Foundation, the right wing think tank, gathered in the mountain resort they always used. Service people wore masks, but the billionaires and power magnates met in a pressurized room to discuss what to do about the virus and how to return the world back to the way they wanted it. Russell Vought was the introductory speaker and the crowd was primed to cheer and clap at his every incendiary comment, but when Vought cryingly admitted that the Heritage Foundation was wrong and mean, members hurriedly masked and left the resort. Vought continued to give his speech, but only the servers and a few sobbing members remained.

Social media was impacted heavily by the virus. Trolls stopped trolling, influencers became honest, bots argued with each other. Non-profits, however, were soaring with record donations.

Many countries called for elections, the politicians falling over themselves trying to explain what they could do for everyone. It was difficult to tell the difference between them. Canada changed very little.

“Leon! No children today?” All the lights in the White House were on, even though it was the middle of the day. The new dome surrounding the building had no windows. The President picked at his Big Mac and fries. It took three hours for the McDonalds’ delivery to make it from the dome door to his desk. The burger tasted off and the fries were cold and wilted.

“No, Mr. President. Their mothers aren’t letting me bring them.” Musk looked pasty and ill. “I think they might all be infected anyway.”

The President was grumpy. “Yeah, probably, this virus is getting a lot of people. I think the scientists we brought back aren’t even trying to solve this… No one is even complaining about my executive orders anymore.” He squished his burger. “How’s the space thing coming along?”

Musk became more animated. “Great! We’ve got three crews working on the station and we’re getting more material up there every day! Only two rockets have blown up in the last week.”

“Yeah, too bad about that crew. Well, you gotta break eggs to make a McMuffin. When will it be ready?”

“A couple of weeks. We should be able to get the first group of VIPs up there the moment we finish construction. Will you be in the first group, Mr. President?”

“I think so, if NASA can have my rocket ready by then.”

“I can have a rocket ready for you, Mr. President”

“I think I’ll wait for NASA, Leon.”

The world was changing. People still went to work every day and most worked harder than they had before. Employers started paying more because, hell, they felt their workers should be making more money. Consumers were researching their purchases, often paying more for items if the cheaper product was made with child labor, used poor management, was earth poisoning, or just not as good. Schools were full of children wanting to learn and teachers excited to educate. Volunteerism was, world-wide, at an all-time high.

North Korea, perhaps the strictest of authoritarian regimes, suddenly relented. South Koreans poured into the country, intent on helping their neighbors. Kim Jong Un decided to pursue a career in his passion, professional golf. He changed his name to Ron Jackson, for reasons he alone knew.

The virus was still virulent, but because it had not harmed anyone, was left to run its course. Many thought it was a gift of God. Maybe it was.

“Mr. President, we’re approaching Trump Station.” The pilot spoke through the President’s helmet earpiece because the orange man was not about to take the helmet off. He was strapped in a tiny chair and had never been as terrified in his life. He was in a tin can that had been strapped to a rocket.

“I will stop all funding for NASA the moment I get off this garbage heap!!” he yelled in his helmet.

“Sir, if you’re trying to say something, you’ll have to hold down the mike button on your arm.” The President folded his arms and pouted. The pilot continued, “Connection with station in 3… 2… 1… Engaged.” The capsule shook and popped in an alarming way. The President was certain death would come at any second.

“Mr. President, follow me.” Musk was in black jeans and t-shirt. The shirt had ‘Galaxy Quest’ written on the front. “Hold onto the rails until you get used to the lack of gravity.” He turned around in time to see the President vomit into his own faceplate. “We’ll make a quick stop to get you cleaned up, Mr. President.”

Hours later, the President fumed in his ‘quarters’, a four by seven foot cubicle with a bunk and straps. According to Leon, they were the only two with private quarters. So cramped. In fact, the whole station was incredibly tiny inside. How were they going to fit two hundred people in here?

Over the next three days more people arrived, the best people. One ship with FOX reporters did explode. Luckily, the President had a lot of FOX people on his staff, so reporting by good media could still be done. Today he would welcome all of them in the mess hall/conference center, then they could get to work on reconquering the Earth.

The conference room was packed shoulder to shoulder. The President took his place at the podium and gave his best glare at his audience and the cameras. Leon stood just behind him.

“Good evening, America. As you probably know, I’m speaking to you from Trump Station, way way up in the sky! I will stay up here until we can destroy the terrible virus down there. Don’t worry, I am safe from the virus here and in complete control of things in our cherished nation. I will return! I … uh, what is it, Leon?”

“Excuse me, sir. Might I say a few words?”

“Uh… yeah, go ahead.”

Musk regarded the people crowded into the mess hall. “You can shut those cameras down. Welcome, crew! I have some exciting news that some of you already know. Trump Station isn’t actually a station, it’s a ship! We’re going to Mars!”

The President had been concentrating on his best glare so he wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. “W…what?!” The crew was shocked.

Musk laughed. “I know, I just went and did it. You’ll thank me later. We’ve lost Earth. Now we need to adventure!” People were shouting. The President was speechless. Musk continued. “I sent supplies ahead of us. We’ll have enough equipment to live on Mars! A new world to conquer!”

“This is prepossaurus… pretoperist… this is not what I want! You will keep this station right here!” Leon was a fool.

Musk rubbed his chin, a look he thought made him look a genius. “No, Mr. President, the station is a ship. I guess we’ll have to name it something else… maybe something with an X in it. You are the President, but I’m the captain of this ship, so…” Musk smiled. “I am in control of the ship and we are going to Mars!”

It took more than a decade for the people of earth to fix the myriad problems they had inherited. Science had advanced considerably now that everyone was working together. The ship earth built to check on the Mars colonists only took four days to reach the red planet. The supply ships that Musk had sent there were mostly in bad shape. Trump Station could not be found.