Episode 103.1 - Murphy's Law

In a dark room, United States Representative Jackson Murphy sat alone, a bottle of whiskey -- the good stuff -- at his left hand; a Smith & Wesson .357 revolver in his right. Not that he knew, or cared, what the calibre of the handgun actually was, as long as the bullets fit. And he knew they would; he stole them when he stole the gun.

The truth was, Jackson Murphy hated firearms; they were more up the alley of his old rival and golfing buddy Tom Starks. Tom had shown Jackson this particular weapon with pride, and the Congressman was honestly sorry to have stolen it. He’d add it to his lengthening list of sins.

He poured another finger of whiskey. Then another. Then he forgot about fingers altogether and filled the glass. Outside, the chaos was just beginning. As the folk singer said, it didn’t take a weatherman to know which way the wind blows. The situation would decay before it got better. The cloned organ donors -- once a great personal triumph for Murphy -- would continue in violence for a while. They would settle down once they had a good meal, but would never cease to be dangerous. Worse than that, the entire population of the country had just doubled in a single day, and half of these new citizens were completely without any sense of law and order, of morality, of anything other than their own needs, wants, and fears.

And, when it came right down to it, the Congressman couldn’t help but feel more than a little responsible for it all. When the so-called Donor Laws were passed as an amendment to the Health Care Act, he and his comrades had celebrated. No longer would American citizens have to wait on a long list for needed organ transplants. No longer would they have to hope and pray a match could be found while they were still alive. Thanks to Congress and the President, people would soon be able to find a lab-grown organ donor all of their own. They had finally caught up to European medicine, and were finally making the use of American ingenuity that those in England, France, Germany, parts of Asia and the Middle East were already enjoying.

The Donor Law. The Murphy Act, actually. His legislation. He hadn’t merely cosponsored the bill. He had written it. It was his legacy. His gift to the American people.  Congressman Jackson Murphy, tears in his eyes, took another swift drink of the whiskey before setting down the glass for the last time. He hadn’t prepared a note or an explanation. People would understand.

And indeed, when the news came that Jackson Murphy, US Congressman and author of the Donor Law, had been found dead in his hotel room of a self-inflicted gunshot wound, nobody hiding in their homes, televisions turned down to avoid attracting undue attention, was really surprised.