The Galloway Speech

For All Nails #327: The Galloway Speech

by Johnny Pez

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"The influenza epidemic of 1946-47, which crippled the war effort and had been caused in part by the conditions of war, claimed 25 million deaths worldwide."

-- Robert Sobel, For Want of a Nail ..., p. 361

Galloway Point

Michigan City, Indiana, CNA

19 May 1946

The familiar ritual was made unfamiliar by the absence of Ferdinand Billington, Owen Galloway’s legal advisor, right hand man, and closest friend. It had been a month since Thripshaw’s Influenza had claimed Billington, and Galloway wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to his friend’s absence. Billington’s former assistant, Brendan Pierce, had quietly stepped up and assumed his duties, but he could never replace Billington. No man could.

But, as the old saying had it, the show must go on. For twenty-three years, the vitavised weekly performance of the Galloway Playhouse had been followed by a speech by Owen Galloway. For the people of the Confederation, the play and the speech had become a part of the regular routine of life, and Galloway himself was looked upon as the conscience of the country. It was an odd role for a locomobile magnate to play, but the 1920s had been an odd time.

It sometimes seemed to Galloway that the times were getting steadily worse. First had come the financial panic ten years back and the terrible unemployment that followed, then the war, and now this influenza epidemic sweeping a battered world. In country after country, the sickness spread among soldiers and civilians alike, filling hospitals to overflowing. Some had predicted that the Confederation, the great neutral power, would be spared, but three months back the hospitals in New York City had begun filling. By then, the scientists were saying, the infected-but-not-yet-ill people of the city were carrying the sickness to the rest of the country along the Simmonsways. Galloway was vividly aware of the terrible irony that his own company’s locomobiles were responsible for spreading the sickness.

Galloway would have enjoyed nothing better than the opportunity to step away from the vitavision camera and mourn his friend’s death in private. However, he had chosen to become a public figure, and his unique place in the Confederation’s public life came with a set of unavoidable responsibilities. Now more than ever, the North American people needed to see their trusted companion in his accustomed place. Now more than ever, he needed to be a source of wisdom and unity in a nation suffering a terrible crisis.

Here in the library of his mansion, Galloway sat and waited. He glanced to his right, where a vitavision set was tuned with the sound muted to Michigan City’s National Union channel. The third act of Cardenes’ The Mark of the Fox was approaching its climax, and with the drama’s end, it would be time for him to speak.

The vitavision camera was sitting in front of him at its accustomed distance of fifteen feet, with Mr. McIntyre almost hidden from sight behind it. The cameras had become smaller and sleeker with the years, while Mr. McIntyre had become larger and plumper, as though he were steadily absorbing the cameras’ substance. But even this familiar sight had undergone a transformation, for Mr. McIntyre was wearing the by-now-commonplace surgical mask. Galloway resisted the temptation to tug at the elastic band holding his own mask in place.

Galloway let his eyes fall to the top of his desk, the same one he had sat behind for twenty-three years. As always, a microphone inscribed with the NUBS logo rested before him, but the glass of water that had always sat to its right was gone, since he would be unable to drink from it while wearing the mask.

The director, Mr. Padbury, stood next to Pierce on Galloway’s left. His predecessor, Mr. Heath, had left five years before to work for the Company’s marketing department. Mr. Padbury said quietly, “Five minutes, Mr. Galloway.”

Galloway turned back to the vitavision set, where the Fox was engaged in the climactic swordfight with his enemy Captain Alvarez. The villainous Captain Alvarez was vanquished, the Fox revealed his true identity to the beautiful Doña Catalina, and the final credits rolled.

“Ten seconds to air, Mr. Galloway,” said Mr. Padbury, then counted down the last five seconds and ended with, “We are live.” The red lamp at the front of the camera came on.

“Good evening, my friends,” Galloway read from the roll of paper that unscrolled in front of the camera. “I hope you’ve enjoyed tonight’s production of The Mark of the Fox by Simon Cardenes. I must apologize for the fact that tonight’s production was not a live broadcast. Due to the danger of spreading Thripshaw’s Influenza among the cast and crew, we were forced to rebroadcast a filmed recording of a production which we first broadcast live eight years ago.

“This is the ninth week that we have rebroadcast a filmed production. For more than two months now, our country has been caught in the throes of a terrible epidemic which daily claims the lives of our citizens. Every day, I watch along with the rest of our nation as Doctor Russell gives his daily briefing on the state of the influenza, and our government’s countermeasures. FN1

“In the last week, some members of the Grand Council have formed what they call a ‘bipartisan committee’ urging Governor-General Hogg to end the government’s countermeasures and ‘open up’ the C.N.A. These Councilmen do this in spite of the fact that the number of known cases of the influenza continues to rise, along with the number of fatalities caused by it.

“Doctor Russell has responded to the points raised by these Councilmen, and I believe he has satisfactorily addressed them. It will be time to reopen the C.N.A. as soon as the government’s testing and tracing program has progressed to the point where any outbreak of the influenza can be identified and contained, and not a moment sooner. Any other course of action would exacerbate the severity of the epidemic, and the damage to our nation’s economy, which these Councilmen claim is their primary concern, would be increased rather than lessened. The reforms that Mr. Hogg has instituted at the National Financial Administration will serve to safeguard our nation’s business community more than any premature attempt to re-open the C.N.A. would.

“The effort to respond to this terrible disaster, and to minimize the damage it has inflicted, has required many sacrifices by the North American people, and will require many more sacrifices, before the danger has been dealt with and the lives of our people have been secured. I am proud of the fortitude that the North American people have demonstrated. The best qualities of our people have been on display in the course of this crisis: our discipline, our compassion for our fellow men, and our commitment to science and reason. These are the qualities that have sustained us, and these are the qualities that will allow us to prevail.

“My friends, thank you all for watching. Good night.”

The red light went out, the paper ceased unscrolling, and Owen Galloway let himself sag in his chair. Mr. Padbury said, “We’re clear,” while Mr. McIntyre began shutting down the vitavision camera. Galloway turned his head to look at the vitavision set, where the National Union Broadcasting Service logo appeared briefly before the introduction to the network’s late night news broadcast began. A masked servant entered the room, and at a gesture from Galloway switched the vitavision set off.

Galloway rose to his feet, thanked Mr. Padbury and Mr. McIntyre for their assistance, and left the library, accompanied by Pierce. “Mr. Pierce, I think I shall retire for the night,” Galloway said as the two men made their way to the mansion’s main hall.

“Very good, Mr. Galloway,” said Pierce, and the two men separated as they made their way to their rooms. It was with a sense of relief that Galloway removed his mask as he climbed the stairs to the private wing of the mansion. Tomorrow he would return to the task of running a multi-billion pound industrial conglomerate on a war footing in the middle of a global epidemic, but tonight, for a few hours, he could relax.

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For All Nails #328:

Forward to 1 June 1949: Broken Regiment.

Return to For All Nails.