“Outstanding! Let’s get this show on the road. Senator Wilson, if you please, kind sir.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Arthur Wilson approached the podium and began his introduction.
“Citizens of the Pacific States of America, today marks a milestone in the short history of our nation. President Howard Beck has given the fine city of Seattle the distinct privilege of hosting the very first State of the Union address. I could spend the better part of an hour lauding the praises of our very own founding father, but his accomplishments speak for themselves. We owe President Beck a debt we can never repay. Democracy is alive and well, thanks to this man.” Senator Wilson raised his arm towards Howard in a gesture of pride and friendship. Howard mistakenly thought that was his cue, so he stood and walked toward the podium. “Well! I see the president is anxious for me to take my seat. Ladies and gentlemen, the president of the Pacific States of America.”
For the next three and a half minutes Howard stood awkwardly at the podium, forcing a smile and nodding his head in thanks as over one hundred thousand people clapped and screamed with enthusiasm. Men and women wept openly as they tried to process the torrent of emotions overtaking them. They had spent years living in panic and crushing despair as their country fell to pieces around them. For the first time in as long as they could remember, they felt pride in their country; the man at the podium was the living embodiment of hope.
Howard waited until the applause abated and let the pointed silence hang heavily in the air for a few seconds. He studied the first line of his speech and surprised Max and Elizabeth by going off script. “You know, it’s funny. I’ve read this speech a dozen times, memorized it actually, and it didn’t occur to me until this second just how extremely powerful the first three words are: My fellow Americans. That phrase means a lot more now, doesn’t it? Every president in recent memory opened his speeches with it. We hardly took notice of it, but it means so much more in these dark days. You see, the madman on the other side of our borders stopped using that phrase early on, and he’ll never say it again. I’ll tell you why: Simon Sterling doesn’t see the citizens of his nation as ‘fellow’ anything. They’re not citizens… they’re his subjects. He’s elevated himself to a god-like status—an error made by many dictators and monarchs throughout the course of history—with horrible consequences.”
Howard paused for a moment to reflect and emphasized every word, every syllable, of the emotion-laden proclamation that followed: “He. Must. Be. Stopped!”
The crowd went wild. Howard had to wait the better part of a minute for the cheering and clapping to subside. “Our nation is strong, our resources are strong, and our resolve is even stronger. We cannot continue to live in such comfort and security while our brothers and sisters in the Unified American Empire are being held hostage! We must rescue them from oppression! We must rescue them from a power-hungry madman who covets his own supremacy above the needs of his people! We must unite our borders, Pacific to Atlantic, and make whole the United States of America. Above all else, we must return our beloved nation to her people!”
Again, the crowd erupted in a deafening display of approval. Max and Elizabeth stood in awed silence. Never in their wildest dreams would they have guessed Howard had so much emotion brewing within him.
“The commanding general of our armed forces, General Richard Dupree, is currently preparing an invasion force that will liberate the former state of California from UAE rule. Before this historic mission can begin, I need your help. I will ask for your sacrifice in the coming days. I’m counting on the good citizens of Seattle to do their patriotic duty and answer the call to protect democracy, to liberate the downtrodden souls from beneath the oppressive thumb of Simon Sterling. Tell me, Seattle, are you up to the task?”
The crowd exploded in a roar of unanimous support. They were ready to lay down their lives for their president.
“In order for the liberation of California to begin, we require transportation to get our troops to her shores. This magnificent vessel upon which I stand will be needed in the coming battle. The good people living on this boat will need new homes. I thank them for their sacrifice, and I’m counting on the good people of Seattle to see to it that they have warm beds to sleep in and food on their plates. What say you, Seattle? Will you join me in this noble cause?”
Once again, the crowd erupted in rapturous applause. Max leaned over to his wife. “You gotta give it to him; the man’s a genius. Yesterday, Richard said these people were ready to chain themselves to the bulkheads so the military would have to forcefully remove them. Howard just turned the tables on them. Now the people of Seattle are going to escort them off the boat like they’re celebrities.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Simon Sterling was standing in the dressing room of the master suite of his Colorado home. His tailor was taking his measurements so he could set about the weekly task of altering Simon’s dozens of suits. The Italian had been a master tailor for the better part of three decades and had suffered his fair share of men whose obsession with clothing bordered on psychotic. Most of them insisted on monthly fittings; the tailor thought they were overdoing it, but took their money just the same. Simon Sterling’s preoccupation with fashion and appearance took obsession to a new level. He never missed his Monday morning fittings. The tailor was terrified of the president and lauded him with praises customarily reserved for models about to hit the catwalk.
Simon curtly waved the tailor back a few steps. “Stacy! Stacy, my dear! Could you come in here, please?”
Simon cocked his ear to listen for his top advisor’s approaching footsteps as he admired his impeccable suit. “Stacy! I’m in here.”
“Good morning, Mr. President. I see the new suit arrived!”
“What do you think?” Simon turned to face Stacy and slowly swiveled left and right to properly model his new duds.
“Handsome as always. You know how to wear a suit.” Stacy faked a convincing smile for the man she despised.
“My taste for fine clothing has grown increasingly difficult to satisfy these days. This suit took nearly four weeks to get here.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Well worth the wait.”
Stacy did her best to dismiss the thought of the countless number of Americans going without food, shelter, or medical care while this monster went to outrageous lengths to secure overpriced clothing to compensate for his insecurity over being short in stature. “Mr. President, the suit is truly remarkable. It looks great on you.”
“Thank you, my dear. Once Mr. De Luca works his magic it will look even better.” Simon smiled at his tailor and nodded, signaling his dismissal.
Simon shrugged off his jacket and turned to Stacy. “Mr. De Luca is fantastic at what he does. He was the most sought after tailor in DC before the collapse. It was a fortunate turn of events that he was visiting family in the Denver area when The Pulse stranded him here in Colorado. Once the dust settled, he hitched a ride here to the front gate and insisted on seeing me. I welcomed him in with open arms. The rest is history. What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Regional Governor Prince is slated to be here sometime between noon and two.”
“What? I thought we were having lunch? Why such a broad window? Where is she?”
“I honestly don’t know, Mr. President. I’m sure she’ll fill you in when she gets here.”
Sterling grumbled as he headed to his office with Stacy in tow.
“Mr. President, I want to discuss something with you, something you go out of your way to avoid when I mention it.”