Tuesday, June 30, 2009
[dilemma for the day] new series, part one
After the coup, the loyalists crammed on board four mini-subs and fled for the uninhabited island they'd predetermined to secretly live on ever after. The island was so configured that cover was excellent, in the form of caves in the hill, there was wildlife and they'd brought seeds and the necessities of life. The subs were well armed but those remaining twelve missiles had to be used sparingly and only on genuine 1st world targets, when absolutely necessary.
They surfaced in a little bay and a reconnaissance crew went ashore to ensure the island was as deserted as they'd calculated. To their dismay, they found four war canoes and soon found the warriors. In their parley, by sign language, a surly type indicated that they were an advance party from their own island a thousand kilometres away and this island had been chosen as the place the tribe would settle.
The fugitives had a problem.
The surly type picked up on this, began making demands, then got nasty. Spears were raised and were about to be be thrown when the Lieutenant whipped out a handgun and shot the surly one in the leg. The warriors appeared stunned, then all fled further inland. The crew returned to the sub and communicated on secure channel with the other three subs.
Immediately, they looked outside and the warriors were swarming all over the subs, hacking at the surface with their spears. Enraged, they jumped into their long war canoes and started paddling at great speed for the open water.
'Sir,' said Captain Laurence Sanders to his superior officer, 'if even one of those canoes makes it back, our cover is blown and either we'll have a whole island full of warriors to contend with but even more likely, GPS will pick up their return, at speed. That will interest our former nation's new rulers greatly.'
'What do you suggest, Laurence?'
'You know as well as I do, Sir,' he answered. 'We have to take out every last one of them before they get too far out to sea. If we take them out right now, they'll drift back to shore. Past the point, they could drift anywhere.'
'NO!' screamed the senior officer's wife. 'No, that's pure genocide.'
'Emma,' said her husband. 'What would you suggest?'
'Talk to them, let them see how much damage we can inflict if we wish to, destroy their canoes but don't kill them!'
'If our missile hits their boat, the boat and crew disintegrate.'
'Sir,' advised Lieutenant Adam Brothers. 'At a minimum, it would take four of our twelve missiles - total wastage. And what if we really need them for the usurper's fleet later?'
'We'll put it to the vote immediately. There are six men, six women and I retain the casting vote. We either fire in the next two minutes, before the lead boat reaches the point or we don't fire and we'll have to try to ram their boats and save some of the crew.'
'Which would leave us in permanent danger on the island from their attack, especially at night and if any escaped, we'd be right back where we were,' muttered Laurence.
'Right, no time to lose,' snapped the superior officer. 'If you vote to shoot, the ultimate responsibility is mine because that is what I'm voting to do. So, all of you. To shoot or not to shoot? Come on people, no longer than a minute to decide. Any hesitation I'm going to count as a yes.'
What is your decision, reader?