He rose, and after a moment’s consideration, spread his hands, lifted them, and conjured a two-sided map. “This is the world. A large place, land masses, great oceans and seas. Much of this world is now empty of people.”
“How many, Kim?” Fallon asked.
“Huh.” Kim pursed her lips. “Most reports calculated an eighty percent wipeout from the Doom. Even in the years since, given births, deaths, war, you wouldn’t have much population growth. A couple billion. Sounds like a lot. It’s not when you consider the Earth’s about two hundred million square miles.”
“Once a nerd,” Poe grumbled, and got an elbow jab.
“How much of that’s water?”
“About seventy percent.”
“Vast.” Fallon looked back at Mallick. “And our ability to travel over the vast seas isn’t what it once was. Lack of fuel, skill, equipment.”
“In the vast are islands,” Mallick continued. “Some are, and were, inhabited. Many are not, or no longer. And here, and here, are two.” With a gesture, he had two small islands glowing on the map. “They are habitable. There is game, fresh water, natural resources, land that can be planted.”
Interested, Thomas studied the islands, the positions. “Transportation?”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Little waved his hands. “You want to give POWs a vacation on a tropical island? Shit, sign me up.”
“Hardly a vacation,” Fallon corrected.
“Palm trees, beaches?”
The argument rolled around the table, hot words, cold ones, temper.
“Enough,” Mallick snapped when Fallon remained silent. “I’ve lived a very long time. I’ve seen the rise and fall of powers, wars upon wars. Even in my sleep, I witnessed. The light must always seek the light. In that light are shadows that must be carefully chosen. What does it matter to you if those we defeated feel warm breezes or can pick fruit from a tree? The shadow we choose is isolation. Some will never see the home they knew again. And if some build a life, even find contentment, does it harm you or yours? It softens the shadows we chose.”
“Hargrove—”
“Will live out his life with that lock and cage,” Fallon said to Little. “As will those like him. But some are soldiers, John, just like all of us. Some have families, some may make families, and with the making come to see what wrong they did.”
“Can I say something that’s just the straight practical end of it?” Duncan shifted. “Supplies, security. This way, we give them enough to get them started instead of cutting into our own resources for the duration to keep them held humanely. Do the math,” Duncan suggested. “How many pounds of meat, grain, gallons of fresh water, medical supplies, and staff? I’ve been to those islands. Yeah, they’re pretty. You’ve also got sand fleas, snakes, a rainy season, and hurricanes. You’re going to have to plant your own crops, build your own shelters, hunt your own meat, fish, figure out how to live surrounded by miles of ocean.”
“How about security?” Mick asked.
“Merpeople, primarily,” Duncan told him, and Mick nodded.
“I can live with that. We’ve got to be better than they are. If they get one of us, they’ll kill us, or toss us in a hole until that killed us. We have to be better than that.”
“I might like it better if we talked islands in the North Sea.” Colin shrugged. “But Mallick’s right. Warm or cold, it’s no skin off ours.”
“Are we agreed?” Fallon looked around the table.
“What do we supply them with?” Troy asked. “How much, for how long? What if there are children?”
“We have most of that worked out. But we need to agree on the concept before we move to that.”
“You’re The One,” Troy pointed out.
“But I’m not alone in this fight. Everyone here has a voice.”
“Then mine’s in agreement.”
Agreement rounded the table until John puffed out his cheeks. “Maybe we can toss that North Sea idea in there.”
Fallon smiled. “Let’s see how this works first.”
They worked on logistics, with Kim and Chuck—the nerd and the geek—assigned to calculate how much in supplies would be needed per man. Her father, Travis, and other empaths would work together to determine which prisoners were most suited to the choice—with Arlys helping confirm through the records, and Rachel clearing candidates medically.
With an optimistic goal of moving the first five hundred within ten days, Fallon shifted to New York and battle plans.
With her new maps over the table, Fallon looked over in annoyance at the interruption when Ethan and Max burst in.
“Sorry,” Ethan said quickly, “but you need to come outside. There’s somebody here and