Emperor of the World
Chapter 1 of a fictionalized history of the future of a world very much like our own
Chapter One
Thugz Mansion, Periphery City
"This is like that nightmare when you see the cliff coming and know there is nothing you can do to stop the train." As he so often does, Dash voiced what we were all feeling. I prayed silently to a God nobody else in this room believed in to open minds and hearts to our better nature, to our desire to care about others and feel unity with them. What we were witnessing right now did not make me feel confident.
Darnell had gotten us all together at Thugz Mansion to watch the election results in his apartment - just a few dozen of his closest friends. He had invested heavily in his own news gathering and broadcasting network - the technological challenges of evading censors and jammers were so intense that only a very few had the resources of knowledge and money to accomplish it - so we were able to watch what was really happening. His display wall was divided into 12 different windows, the top two rows showing his and other alternative news feeds, and the bottom row showing the WolfNews, NMSBC, CNNBC and UniMundo broadcasts, just to get an idea what the average citizen was being told.
On WolfNews, the anchor was talking while a screen behind her showed scenes of masked men fighting with police, throwing flaming projectiles at buildings and being tased by drones. "More rioting by anti-Democratic protestors broke out in The Capital today when President Thedump's victory was announced. Police have the situation under control and the ringleaders are being arrested as we speak. Now to Charlie with a report from The President's victory party!"
Meanwhile FreeNews 1 showed drone video of a mile-long column of demonstrators marching down Capitol Boulevard toward The Presidential Mansion behind a banner that said "DEMOCRACY NOW! DON'T STEAL OUR ELECTION!" The transmitter in my ear switched from the vapid Charlie Vox to the audio from the drone: the combined voices of thousands of people chanting, "COUNT THE VOTES! COUNT THE VOTES! COUNT THE VOTES!" Surrounding the chanting were the buzzing and humming of the police drones hovering over the column. A small picture-in-picture square showed a young Latino who started speaking:
"What you are seeing is a demonstration called by the Open Air Movement to protest the Election Board's announcement two hours ago that it had found widespread fraud at 1200 vote collection locations around the country and would not count the ballots from those locations. The Board spokesman refused to identify the affected locations or any specifics of the fraud.
"All of the anecdotal reports we are receiving from locations that say their ballot boxes have been confiscated by Federal Police are from predominantly middle and lower income Black, Latino and Muslim neighborhoods, and college campuses. Many of these locations reported people having waited in line for hours due to the lack of ballot collection locations nearby, and security checkpoints checking identification and searching personal belongings.
"A little over an hour ago, the Open Air leaders issued a call for people to march peacefully on their cities' Federal buildings to demand that all votes be counted. We are working now to gather whatever news we can of events all over the country. At this point, we only know of this march in The Capital, and demonstrations in both New Core City and Periphery City. We are unable to confirm broadcasts on other networks showing violent clashes with police. Stay tuned and we will bring you what we can when we can."
"So what's going on over here, Father Vincent?" a deep voice rumbled in my ear with a soft laugh just as a big hand clapped on my shoulder. Darnell stood behind me. "What's the vote count?"
I shrugged. "I haven't seen any results yet. Just demonstrations and Thedump having a victory party like he's already won." I pointed to the right, where AltTV's anchor was starting to speak with "RESULTS" in big block letters behind him. We both turned our attention to the top right corner of the display. The room fell silent as everybody else clued in that we were about to start getting results.
"With polls closing on the east coast, we can start giving results. Polls have just closed in 19 states. We have enough precincts reported to call 6 of those states. The rest are at this time still too close to call. We can call...." He ran down the states, and when he was done, we all stood there in disbelief: AltTV was calling all six, including New Core, for the President.
"Bullshit!" cut through the silence. Everybody turned toward the voice. I had to turn all the way around to see Dash over by the bar, Cheri to his right looking stricken. "There's no fucking way New Core and all those other states vote for Thedump. The demographics and the history just don't work. He's overreached. It will be obvious to everybody."
What Dash meant would be obvious to everybody was that the President's people had rigged the election - as we all had known he would. Electoral interference of all kinds had been on a gradual rise since 2016, and had been particularly shameful last time when Thedump was elected. Even so, he had barely won. Last time, New Core and most of the other northeast states had gone Blue -as they did nearly every election for a hundred years. Most polls before the election had shown Blue candidate Barbara Gimpel with a solid lead. These results were completely anomalous and highly suspicious.
"And it's so unnecessary. He was going to win anyway. He did it because he's a petty little dictator. He did it because he and the gangsters around him don't take any chances. The Blues sent out - for the second time in a row - the worst possible choice of the options they had to fight him. I mean, what the hell does Barb Gimpel stand for? All she's done her whole career is try to show how Red she can be, and now she's losing her mind. They sent an old woman losing her mind out to fight a bully. A woman who was on the same side of the same issues that made working class voters pick this fraud over the last Blue lifelong corporate shill.
"I get the politicians. I get the party establishment. They're getting paid and you don't cross your boss. It's the voters that defy my understanding. I mean, these people, these older voters, all their lives they've been complaining that all politicans are on the take and don't represent them. They've been saying they want to get money out of politics, want politicians who don't answer to big donors, politicians they can trust, politicians who will fight for the things that matter to the people. One finally comes along and they run the other way. They all rally around EXACTLY the kind of politician they spent their whole lives complaining about. And why? For that, I have no answer."
"Because they're stupid!" Darnell spoke up. Everybody laughed.
"Results have been coming in, and we are now able to call several more states: President Thedump has won North Cackalacky, South Cackalacky, Sennetsea, Pittsahoy, Midlinoia and Chimigan. The President is now fewer than 50 electoral votes from victory, and Barbara Gimpel is only projected to win three small Western states and Cascadia."
Silence smothered the room. There had been so much hope three years ago that the atrocities of Thedump's administration were so bad they would shock the Merkan voters into tossing him out of office. When Ilana Azteca Cortez launched her campaign and started gathering huge crowds, won the first three primaries, we started to really believe. Man, we started to believe that not only would we get rid of Thedump but that Ilana could finally give us a President who would fight for the change we all need.
Then came Black Saturday, when all the other candidates suddenly dropped out and endorsed Gimpel, right before Massive Monday. From that point on, we all knew. We tried to fight it, but deep in our hearts, we knew.
"Because they're scared," I found myself saying into the silence. All eyes on me. "They are old and they are scared. The world is scary. Death is scary and death is getting closer. They are scared of the president. Revolution is scary - change is scary. They are scared and they just want stability and security and calm."
"Fear makes you stupid," Darnell replied.
"Yes it does," I agreed.
"It is obvious that the Blue Party will never represent the working classes again, that it merely exists now to corral voters who see themselves as more liberal than the Reds. It is just another institution enforcing the control of the capital class over society," the mellifluous voice of Talia flowed into the room from the other side. "We will only get representation and leaders who will fight for the working class if we form a new party and become those leaders. Yes, the system is a two party system. Yes, we would lose most races at first. Yes, we would cause Reds to win more than they do now, but as we have seen, what does that matter to us? Red? Blue? Neither side's wins are for us. But if we stay together and we fight and we build and we continue to represent the working classes, we will grow.
"It is either that, or submit. That is the choice before us. To submit is to dance in a fantasy in a gilded cage on a ship that is sinking."
The silence when she stopped speaking was as if time had stopped, as if God had suspended us in a gap between moments. I looked around and I noticed that only a few people remained in the room. While we were speaking, most of the revelers had slipped away. My gaze crashed into Dash's; he was noticing the same thing I was. He started talking:
"And we will lose people," he said, and he indicated the room with a wave of his hand. Everybody looked around and then focused back on Dash. I noticed a flash of sudden understanding in a few faces. "But look who is still here." People looked around again. This time when they returned their attention to Dash I saw confusion. "You're the most accomplished, the smartest, the most committed, the most disciplined of all the people who were in this room ten minutes ago. If you stay and you work together and fight, you will get things done, and those people will come back, and they will bring friends. When things get tough, they will leave again, but if you stay true, you will overcome, and they will return again. And each time, our cause will get stronger, and eventually we will prevail, because right wins when good people stay committed to the fight.
"And then at some point in the future, another generation will have to do it all over again, because the forces that want to monopolize power and control other people never quit, and when the good people go back to living their daily lives, those forces will come back out and start gathering back the power, until they once again overstep and rouse the good people into action.
"It's our turn now. We either commit to that fight, or we submit, and those forces will keep driving us toward doom until a braver, wiser generation comes along to do what we should have done."
"I'm in," boomed Darnell, and he strode into the center of the loose grouping. "And if you're not, you can leave now, because from this point on, we are talking strategy, and that's a discussion that ain't for those who ain't in." He pointed at the display wall, which went white, with two large rectangles at eye level showing static scenes of beauty. "And we don't need that shit." He looked around the room. "There is a reception down in the casino, which those of you who are not IN can enjoy for the rest of the night, and we are still friends." He met some eyes around the room. Each pair of eyes he met dropped to the floor. "But if you ain't prepared to commit to this fight with your whole soul, it's your time to go on out, no hard feelings." Around half of the people in the room slowly turned and shuffled to the elevators.
I looked over who remained. There were nine of us. I'm Vincent Biaggi. You can call me Father Vincent. I'm the pastor of St. Jerome parish at the St. Jerome Cathedral. Darnell and I have been friends for a year, after I had hated him for almost a decade.
Darnell Cole - or D Cole as he had been known when he was in the music business before going to prison - had built and now ran Thugz Mansion. We were in his private residence on the roof of the Mansion. It was literally a mansion on the roof of a skyscraper that was named Thugz Mansion. Darnell was part owner of the place now, and he was a man of prodigious ability in several fields. The most loyal friend you could ever have, but not a man you wanted to make your enemy.
Dash Spice - not his real name, which none of us knew - and Darnell have been friends since shortly after Thugz Mansion opened. He was a lot older than the rest of us, probably around 50, and had a previous life he never talked about. But he was extremely educated, the most well-read person I've ever met, and very smart. You got the feeling that there wasn't anything that happened that he hadn't seen before, any issue he had not thought through, any argument he had not heard. He was an escort, had started in the business right after legalization, and worked his way up to exclusively serving a relatively small clientele of extremely wealthy people.
Cheri DuBois, who the world knew as Ms. Hotbody, had grown up with Darnell, and now was Dash's girlfriend. Yeah, wow, right? She had never been politically aware until last spring when Warren Hampton jumped into the race for the Blue nomination. Hampton had sexually assaulted her years ago, and she stepped forward to stop him. When he withdrew from the race, it was primarily because of Cheri's determined, persistent opposition. As Ms. Hotbody she was one of the most famous and popular celebrities in the world. She was always underestimated because she was a professional sex symbol, but her campaign against Hampton had showed everybody what kind of woman she really was, and she had stayed involved.
Talia Li was my best friend in the world. She grew up in Periphery City to a city administrator and a local lawyer, went to college two years early, graduated in 3 years, got a master's degree, joined the Army, was sent to war in the Middle East, came back with severe PTSD, and won a seat on Periphery City Council. I've just started nagging her to run for Mayor in the next election. If anyone in our circle could give Dash a run for his money as a political analyst, it was Talia. They rarely disagreed and usually took turns in explaining things to the rest of us.
Neera Ilmani has been the House representative from Periphery City in Congress for three terms now, and was in the House Progressive Caucus. Her family emigrated from a war zone in the Middle East when she was a child and had settled here ten years ago. She and Talia knew each other in high school and were occasional lovers. She and Darnell were great friends and had some kind of history nobody else knew about. She had endorsed Ilana for President and campaigned for her as often as she could get away from her official duties.
The last two people in the room were Darnell's Chief of Security and Director of IT at Thugz Mansion. Claw, the security head, was very quiet, but very nice, and chillingly competent at any kind of fighting and defense. He and Rayray, the IT guy, worked together closely as most threats in our day included some kind of IT component. Darnell can take care of himself and defeat almost anybody in a fight, but even he told me once "I don't fuck with Claw. Nope. No way."
"Ok, so who is our leader?" Darnell demanded after a minute's silence. He was staring at Dash, who held up his hands.
"Not me. I'm not leadership material." He pointed at Talia. "I nominate Talia."
She shook her head vehemently. "No, it should be one of you," she said, seeming to mean anyone but herself.
Every head in the room swiveled simultaneously in my direction. Eight pairs of eyes rested on me.
I laughed. "You all must be out of your minds. I'm a priest. How can I possibly lead you all?"
"Because there is nobody else in this room," Darnell said, "who when he says 'No' every one of us will stop."
That stilled my dissent. I heard God in Darnell's voice, saw Him in the eight sets of eyes demanding my obedience. "Very well. I will be the leader - under one condition: Somebody else run our meetings." I looked them all over. Nobody volunteered. "Talia," I said.
She scowled and looked about to argue with me, but then she nodded her head and looked away. It had to be her or Neera, by experience, but Neera probably would not be able to be present for all our meetings.
"All right, I'll do it." She stepped forward into the circle and straightened up. "Meetings need agendas, and items of business. Then they set a next meeting and adjourn. That's what we are going to do. Tonight's agenda is simple: one item of business. Forming a new political party in the States. Discussion, then a motion can be entertained. If passed, we set a task list and a next meeting." She looked around. We all nodded.
Dash spoke up. "I move that we organize a new political party dedicated to achieving the policy goals underlying the platform of Ilana Azteca Cortez's campaign."
"I second the motion," Darnell said immediately. "And I call for a vote. We all still here because we agree it needs to be done, so let's get to the business of doing it."
Talia nodded. "All in favor?" We all raised our hands. "Motion carried. Now, a plan of action."
We decided that the first action would be for Neera to go back to The Capital and talk to her colleagues in the House Progressive Caucus. Getting on ballots differed from state to state. Each House member would be in the best position to do the research and manage the process in their state - if they were in. Once we knew which states we had covered, we could figure out how to get the research done in the other states. We agreed to meet in a week with anyone who could not be in the City in person holo-ing in, then Talia adjourned the meeting.
We all kind of stood there looking at each other. It felt weird. The silence stretched on and feeling of unreality grew more palpable.
"We are really doing this?" asked Neera suddenly, her voice like a gunshot. "We are seriously doing this, starting a new party? It wasn't just a party game?"
"Yes, Neera," Dash responded. All eyes went to him, but he was looking at Neera. "We are serious. You can talk to your colleagues in the House with full confidence that we will follow through. Nobody in this room plays at life."
"I'm sorry, you're right," she stammered. "It just felt so unreal."
I chuckled. "We all felt that way, Neera. I was standing here asking myself if it was real."
"All right everybody!" Darnell called out. "Get your asses another drink!" And the music came on, loud. We all laughed, and went to the bar to make drinks. With my snifter of Darnell's finest cognac in hand, I looked around for Dash. I couldn't find him anywhere. Talia and Neera were on a couch deep in conversation. I didn't see Cheri, so I thought maybe she and Dash had slipped away to have a "private conversation", but then I spotted her over on the other side of the room talking to Darnell. He said something in her ear and she laughed. Still no Dash.
I always felt out of sorts at parties. Now that it was back to being a party and I didn't have the election results to distract me, I was ill at ease. I decided to step out onto the balcony and enjoy some fresh air and the view. When I stepped onto the pad and the door slid open, I saw Dash leaning against the balcony railing. I chuckled. I should have known.
I walked over and leaned next to him. "Peaceful out here," I said. He glanced over and smiled at me.
"Yes it is. I always loved the city at night. The lights are so beautiful, replacing the stars we can't see. Each one represents a world, somebody's world."
"What's on your mind?" I asked. He had that look.
He inhaled deeply and slowly through his nostrils, and let the air escape through his lips. "I think you know. The same thing that's on your mind."
I chuckled. "I pray a lot."
"So do I," he whispered. "So do I."
I looked over at him, surprised. "I didn't think you believed in God."
He pushed off the railing with his elbows and stood up straight. He shrugged. "I don't. But I don't not believe in God, either." He paused, looked up at the sky. "But sometimes I pray when I'm scared of what I know."
"I do believe in God," I replied. "And I pray when I'm scared of what I know, too."
"It's a fucked-up world we live in," he said, gesturing at the energy dome above us. "We can build microscopic drones to spy on or even kill people, and we can build energy fields to keep them out - to protect people who can afford them - but we still don't bother feeding 20% of the people. We can make a rich man live 200 years but we don't care to provide basic health care for 20% of the people and prevent their babies and mothers dying in childbirth. We send rockets to Mars with billionaire tourists but don't do a damn thing to prevent the cooking of our planet." He shook his head and leaned against the railing. "It's a fucked-up world we live in."
I patted him on the back a couple times and leaned down next to him. "That's why we're doing what we started tonight, Dash."
He dug into his pocket and came out with a bent and crinkled cigarette - marijuana for sure. He took elaborate care to straighten it out and squeeze the contents into relative uniformity, put it in his mouth and lit it from a lighter that materialized in his left hand, inhaled deeply, then gestured at me with it. "Want some?"
I started to say "no thank you" but changed my mind and took it from him. Sometimes the herb opened my mind to God's greatest wisdom. It felt good. I savored the slow wave of effect washing over me. Sometimes it just helped me forget the world's troubles and laugh with a good friend for a couple of hours.