“You’ve said before, you wanted to see civilization come back, our nation to come back. I’m doing my best to make that happen here in Hawaii. I’m using the Constitution as a guide, but I need a little help and guidance. We’ll be in contact through the Ham radio, and I can give people your messages. It’ll help me get things going here, and who knows, it might even help on the mainland too,” Jerry said.
Tim sat there in deep thought, mulling over in his mind everything Jerry had said. He looked out the window again. He saw Robyn grab Jimenez by the hand, and the pair ran, laughing, back into the surf.
He was frustrated. He agreed with everything his friend was saying, but why did it have to be him? He did want a safe world for Robyn and Holly; a safe world where they could raise their child. But was this the way? He let out a huge sigh.
Jerry smiled. “Even George Washington became president reluctantly.”
“Haven’t I done enough?” Tim asked with exasperation.
“And now you’re even quoting Washington!” his friend beamed.
“Paraphrasing.”
“Then you’ll do it?”
“Let me sleep on it, Jerry. I’ll give you my answer tomorrow,” Tim said, but the look on his face let Jerry and Holly know exactly what his answer would be. “As long as I don’t have to make any promises to them that I can’t keep. There’s been far too many of those over the years.”
“You got it, Sar’ Major. No promises. So you’ll think about it and let me know?”
“Yeah.”
“Look at it this way, Tim. If the thought of a resurgent America spreads around far enough, an America that won’t back down to bullies, stops one wingnut like the late Captain Kangaroo, then it’ll all be worth it, to be left alone.”
“One that’ll nuke them, you mean?” Tim asked. “I never, ever want to have to do that, ever again!”
“You won’t have to, Tim.”
“Besides, I don’t have the codes anymore. They were vaporized when I turned Volivoli into a sheet of glass,” Tim lied.
No one knew that shortly after Tim and Robyn had found their home in Williams, Arizona, Tim had painstakingly copied the entire codebook over into a loose-leaf ring binder by hand, in neat block letters, and had secretly squirreled it away in his home’s basement, where it still sat today, if it hadn’t been gnawed to shreds my mice. No, he really didn’t feel bad about telling Jerry that lie.
“I don’t think it’ll ever get as far as that. I need your help, that’s all. At some point, in the far future, we’ll have a real election. It’s just these baby steps we need to take first,” Jerry said, standing. He walked over and tossed his now empty beer bottle in the garbage. “Take a few days to think it over. We’ll have a going-away luau for you on Friday, here in your back yard, and you can let me know then.”
“Holly and I were discussing having it here right before you came in,” Tim said with a little laugh.
“I’ve got to go and take care of some things. I’ll talk to you later. See you later, Ma’am!” Jerry added, nodding to Holly. With that, he departed through the kitchen door, leaving Tim and Holly to their thoughts.
Tim took out another beer, popped the top, and after expertly flipping the cap into the garbage, looked at Holly with a wry grin. “You’d better start learning the tune ‘Hail to the Chief’, and remember this, you’ll be First Lady!”
“Oh, Tim! It’s all so unbelievable!”
“And ninety-nine percent of the world’s population dying overnight isn’t?” he said, draining half the bottle in one pull. He let out a huge belch that made Holly laugh.
“That’s not very presidential!”
“Oh shit, babe. What the fuck am I going to do?” he sighed, and sank into the bench across from her.
“To be honest, I think you should do it. Just make a show of it, at the luau, and be done with it. The people will be happy, and it’ll give them some hope.”
“I still don’t know.”
“I don’t know enough about your laws, if any laws are valid anymore, anyway. Would it be legal, if it was possible?”
“That’s the thousand dollar question. I don’t know, probably not. I know there’s a definite order of succession to the office of president, and I’m pretty goddamn sure that a brigade sergeant major is not on that list.”
“Then make a show of it, like that postman in the movie. You did say you wanted the US to come back, and when it did, you hoped that they got back to the principles. Here’s your chance to help make that happen.”
“I hate the lies. If I do this, I’ll be no better than the rest of the politicians before me. I’m no politician.”
“Tim, haven’t you told a lie before, for the good of the whole? When you were in Iraq? Afghanistan? Told your soldiers one thing, a lie, just to keep morale up?”
“Yeah, but—”
“This is no different,” Holly interrupted. “These people need to keep hope alive for something greater than themselves. It’s more than simply personal survival now. The stakes are far greater.”
Tim stood and walked to the screen door that faced the back yard and the ocean. He stood there for some time without saying a word, his beer in his hand forgotten. He watched Robyn and Jimenez romp on the beach, then, without turning to face Holly, said, “Remember when you told me Taco was frightened of me?”
“Yes.”
“This frightens me as bad.”
“Tim, do you really mean that?”
“I do. I look back on the last six years and wonder. Six years ago, I was scrounging in abandoned grocery stores, hoping to find something to eat. You were doing the same thing in Colorado with Izzy, just trying to stay alive another day. For what, I still don’t know. I told Jerry a while ago the world didn’t come to an end. It would keep on turning, in spite of us.”
“And you’re right,” Holly said, toying with her now empty Coke bottle.
“In spite of it all, humanity has come back. I’m not so sure about ‘civilization’, but man has shown it can come back. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing right now.”
Holly went over to Tim, put her arms around his torso and hugged him, resting her head between his shoulder blades. She held onto him tightly, not saying a word.
“I look out at those two kids playing in the water, and thank fuck they’re okay. Keeping those two safe, and you and the baby safe, is my number one concern. I’m so sick and tired of making decisions. Let our good ensign start up a merchant fleet, that Aussie guy start up the railroad again, and Jerry can have his little enclave here. I just want to get us all back to Williams and be left alone.”
“Are you afraid of the power?” Holly asked into his back.
“Yes. I had that kind of power once, absolute power, and it scared the hell out of me. I never understood what kind of person would actually search out and desire that kind of power.”
“It’s intoxicating, some people thrive on it.”
“I certainly don’t. It’s corrupting. Turns even the most honest man evil.”
"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men," Holly said.
“So now you’re quoting, who? I remember it was some Brit, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“Aye, John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton, first Baron Acton in a letter to Bishop Mandell Creighton,” Holly said with a little smile Tim couldn’t see.
“It looks like I’m not the only one in this screwy family that can pull obscure quotes from dead men out of my head.”
“Aye, we are that, a family, Timothy. Let’s get changed and go for a swim, shall we?”
“Splendid idea, let’s!” Tim said in a dramatically effected British accent. “And afterwards, we shall polish the wainscoting!”
“Smashing idea, Sergeant Major!” Holly squealed, and headed off to the bedroom to change into a swimsuit.
Tim watched her leave, admiring her long ponytail swinging from side to side as she sash
ayed out of sight. He finished off his beer, and with a shrug of his shoulders, followed her.
Chapter 3: Absolute Power
At the same time that Tim and Holly were preparing for a swim in the warm waters of the Pacific Ocean, almost five thousand miles and six time zones east, a corpulent, middle-aged man dressed in what had once been an expensive, tailor-made Brooks Brothers suit was sitting behind a massive polished wood desk inside the Oval Office. His gray hair was combed perfectly, and reading glasses were propped studiously atop of his head.
He was sitting in a leather chair, custom made for another man who was no longer the President of the United States. He faced out through the thick, bullet proof windows that looked out onto the now overgrown Rose Garden and vast lawn, that had now become a meadow. The sun had set an hour ago, and in the dim twilight of the cold Washington evening, he saw what was left of the city’s skyline silhouetted by a fire somewhere off in the distance. He’d have to find out what was burning, again.
When he heard someone come into the room behind him, he spun his chair to face another man, dressed in an US Army officer’s uniform. His silver general’s stars on his epaulets sparkled in the lantern light. Despite all of their efforts, they could not keep the power on in the city. The few coal powered generating stations near the city had long since burned through their meager supply of the fossil fuel, and no one had yet been able to get any of the nuclear power plants back on line. Most had their computers fried by the electromagnetic pulse of the Event so many years ago, and were now just useless relics of a bygone era.
The officer came smartly to attention and. “You called for me, Mr. President?”
“Yes I did. What’s burning this time?”
“I’m not sure, sir. It may be one of the older neighborhoods going up in flames. No one lives there now. Most of the residents are out in the suburbs.”
“Are we in any danger here?”
“I don’t think so, sir. I’ll send someone to find out.”
“You do that. How many residents do we have now?” the man asked, picking up a crystal tumbler and filling it with what was once very expensive triple-malt scotch whiskey.
“Our latest census brings the population up to about five thousand, sir, here in the city. They’ve come from all over the country. There are a few other settlements in the outlying areas, not too far from here.”
“Good. Do you care for a drink, General?”
“No thank you sir,” the man said, wishing he could sit down, but like a good officer, he stayed standing for his Commander in Chief.
“Suit yourself. I’ll have one, I think,” he replied. “What else can you tell me?”
“No a whole lot, sir. Some things have been happening out in the Pacific, though I’m not sure what. Just dribs and drabs we’ve been able to pick up on the Ham bands. It seems like there was some kind of battle a few months ago.”
“A battle? A battle between whom?” the fat man asked.
“From what we can pick up, there was a destroyer, one of ours. Its captain had turned rogue and was going around the whole ocean terrorizing whoever was left.”
“That’s interesting. Is that all?”
“We don’t know much more than that. We do know that someone has been accessing some of the satellites,” the general said cautiously. He’d learned a long time ago only to give certain information to the new ‘president’, because he was known to fly off into fits of rage.
“Accessing the satellites? How can they do that?” the man calling himself the president asked, anger starting to boil up.
“We’re not sure, sir. It could be someone with access to the DoD computer network. We haven’t been able to pinpoint anything. It’s almost as if the network is blocking us,” he replied uneasily, sweat breaking out under his collar despite the coolness of the room.
“Was your expedition successful?”
“Yes and no, sir. The one and only Blackhawk we had flying crashed, as you know, a year ago, taking the pilot with it. We’ve found no other pilots in the last census of survivors. We had to mount up a ground survey, and it took them months to find the wreckage of Air Force One.”
“Were they able to locate the Package? The Football?” he demanded.
“No, sir. The wreckage was strewn over several acres of land, in what looked like an overgrown soybean field in Iowa. They spent three weeks looking and didn’t find a trace of it.”
“Damn it!” the president swore, slamming down the tumbler on the desk, carelessly spilling the whiskey. “Do you think someone has it?”
“We don’t know, sir. Our guys came back a few days ago, after having been stranded in a blizzard for weeks. They said it didn’t look like anyone else had been through the area, but we just don’t know anything more,” the general said, voice trembling.
“General, I asked you here to tell me what you know, not what you don’t know. Do you think whoever is accessing the satellites has it?”
“Sir, with all due respect, we have absolutely no way of knowing for certain.”
“With all this technology laying around, and all these survivors coming to us, you still have no way of finding out anything? You have not been able to get one more aircraft in the air?” the president demanded. “Someone has to have it! And I want it, do you understand!”
“Yes, sir. I understand completely. We’re working on it,” the general said.
“So let me get this straight, General. You’ve found the plane, but haven’t found the package. You tell me you’re getting ‘dribs and drabs’ of information about some battle in the Pacific. You know someone has been accessing the satellites, but not who. Tell, me, has our envoy to Europe reported back?”
“No, sir. He sailed in September. We got word he’d landed in the UK, and then was heading for the continent. I don’t expect him back here until spring.”
“Yes, it is almost like the way it was two hundred years ago, it takes forever to sail there. We need to find a pilot, and we need to find a plane!”
“I concur, Mr. President. However, I think we need to find more food for everyone, and soon. We’re running out fast. We don’t want another incident like last winter,” the general said gravely.
“Yes, the riots were unfortunate. We were able to quell them effectively, as I recall,” he said, an odd smile crossing his face, which made the general even more uncomfortable.
“I’ll get the major to form up some more supply parties tomorrow morning, sir. Each time, we’re having to go further and further out away from the city. We got as far as Philadelphia to the north, and Atlanta, to the south last time.”
“Start heading west, then. How about the venison hunts? Aren’t they still working?”
“The deer are starting to peter out around here. I’m afraid we’ve thinned out the herd too much.”
“Well, General, aren’t you just the bearer of fantastic news this evening? I’m getting rather tired of you telling me what you don’t know and what you can’t do.”
“Sir, we are doing all we can!”
“General, you find out who has been accessing my fucking satellites! You find out if this person has the Football. You send the scavenging parties out for more food. Find out what this hubbub about some goddamned battle was about, and you will get these things done, is that understood?” the president said, with barely contained rage.
Even in the lantern light, the general could see the man’s face burning red with anger. He had to get out of the room soon.
“Yes, sir, loud and clear, sir!”
“Because, General, I am the goddamn president of the United States, and they are my fucking satellites, and my fucking codes!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Someone is accessing the satellites and computer networks, and he’s using them under my name, my goddamn authority! That, General, is against the fucking law!” he screamed, and then his voice became barely a whisper, evenly calm. “And when you find him, you will bring his head to me.”
“Good, now get out of my sight. You sicken me,” the president spat.
The general quickly spun on his heels, exiting the Oval office. He made his way through a darkened White House, which eerily reminded him of a tomb, a monument to a thought and a people who were dead and buried. The thought sickened him, almost as bad as the man he’d just left.
President, indeed! The man calling himself the president was actually the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, eleventh in line of succession to the office of president, and the general thought it extremely ironic that this person, in his old office, was supposed to improve the lives of his fellow Americans, and now was the head of a decaying city, in a forgotten country.
He exited the building through a side door that once was reserved for servants and staff, which was flanked by two heavily armed guards, who didn’t even budge at his passing. He stepped to the curb, pulling on his heavy overcoat to ward off the frigid night air. A Hum-Vee pulled up at the same moment we was fiddling with the buttons, and he jumped in. It was being driven by another officer, this time a Navy Lieutenant Commander. The man put the vehicle in drive and headed off.
“Where to?”
“Back to the Pentagon,” the general said quietly.
“How’d it go?” the sailor asked.
“Do you really want to know?”
“That bad, huh?”
“Not as bad as last time, but bad enough. He wasn’t happy at all,” the general said, involuntarily shuddering even though the Hum-Vee’s heater was on full-blast and actually felt like the inside of an oven to him.
“Did you tell him about the launch?”
“Are you crazy? If he finds out someone launched one of his nukes, he’ll come unglued!” the general told his companion in horror.
One Man's War Page 5
