Olga Toprover - The President Is No More

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For a moment, I thought there was snow on my car. But how, I ask you, could there be snow in California, especially in August? My world swam as the absurdity of it started to sink in. Maybe its a dream? After all, dreams can be extremely convincing, so convincing you get completely fooled. You wake up and it takes you a while to shake it off.

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Or maybe Im floating in some VR environment where California snowfalls are as ordinary as London fog. You never know.

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I walked up to the car, reached out and touched the white layer over the trunk. No, thats definitely not snow. I stared at the gray powder left at my fingertips, puzzled, until it dawned on me it was ash.

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And thats when I noticed the burning scent. I couldnt believe I got into that damned report that I didnt notice what I was breathing the second I opened the door. Crazy!

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It looked like the wind blew some ash blizzard in from somewhere. Whats going on? Whats burning? Its been a while since we had a fire around these parts. The climate is dry, yes, but the universal anti-fire network can take care of accidental fires within seconds. And its been around for a pretty long time. Why didnt the machines work now?

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I went into my car and turned on the auto-drive.

Where are we going? the artificial voice called out.

The usual, I replied.

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The ignition started and the rear transmission took over. As the car turned onto the road, I ordered.

News!

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A video screen lit up the top left corner of the front window.

An unbelievable tragedy, I heard. The fire appeared at approximately 2:00 a.m., catching the residents asleep.

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The reporters pearl-white shirt and light-blue jeans stood in striking contrast against what unfolded behind his back. A black pillar of smoke rose off a little distance away. Even higher up in the clouds, it turned into an enormous, menacing mushroom just like the one they usually draw in textbooks when they talk about explosions.

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Meanwhile, the autopilot guided the car along the familiar daily route south, toward the city. Everything was perfectly ordinary until the view straight out of the newscast appeared on the east. The mushroom was pretty far away, but it looked much scarier and more impressive than on the video screen. Oh, how I wished it would all turn out to be a dream! Id even settle for a horrifying VR simulation, just

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But alas there really was a large fire burning to the east. Somewhere in the direction of Kingstown.

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Ah, thats what it is. Kingstown is a Humanist settlement. At least it would explain a few things. As if reading my thoughts, the reporter continued:

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The Humanists consider their settlements the nature preserves of humanity the sort of humanity that developed naturally. They not only reject any scientific developments relating to human modification, but they also reject the latest scientific fields, including robotics technology. That includes even the automatic fire suppression system, which, it has been reported, didnt exist in Kingstown. We will keep you posted on the latest developments

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The segment about the fire ended, and it was immediately followed by a story about the reaction from Washington D.C. President Bill Freeman gave a quick interview in front of the White House. He expressed his condolences and promised to get to the bottom of it.

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By the way, I liked our president. No, really. Hes always been very charismatic, even handsome, man not in a fashionable, sugary-sweet way. He had a very masculine, rugged and down-to-earth look, and it drew you in. His face radiated power, and you never doubted that he was a born leader. You wanted to believe him. But what most remarkable about him was something that was a rarity for a national leader his family status. Bill Freeman was single.

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As I considered all this, the interview ended and the President turned and walked back to the White House door with a brisk athletes strut.

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Oh, if only he wasnt a President of the United States, hed be a man of my dreams! whispered my inner girly-girl. Though I had to say that, in my experience, it was impossible to get into politics without getting your hands dirty, and a man with dirty hands couldnt possibly be a dream.

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Next, the newscast played to an interview with William Bots, head of the Robotics corporate group. He was furious: if the Humanists werent so stubborn and used his product, the tragedy wouldve been avoided. Like Bill Freeman, Bots had a good build, but his face didnt express emotions very well. He was a business shark, and thats it. He wasnt interested in anything except hunting for profits. Like the president, Mr. Bots didnt find time to start a family, but I didnt care about that part of his biography.

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A phone call from Brian, my boss, interrupted my thoughts.

Dont come to the office! he exclaimed in place of introduction.

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For as long as Ive known him, Brian was extremely straightforward and never stopped to think that others might make their own plans.

You know, Im already on my way, I responded, puzzled.

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Great! Then head straight for the location of the fire.

What, you want to get rid of me?

Dont make me laugh, Mia. You might still be useful to me. And the fire is starting to die down.

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So why am I going there?

We have diplomatic relations with the Humanists and

I know, Brian, I interrupted. Can you make this quick? Im on the road.

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Okay. To make it short, Yvon Tred, the chairman of the Humanist Association wants to temporarily borrow you. He needs an experienced negotiator like you.

Why?

And that, my girl, hell tell you himself.

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I hated when he called me my girl. He couldve struck up for me! Said that I was busy for the next few weeks, but he just folded. And called me my girl.

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Listen, Brian, I seethed. I never worked with them, never, do you understand? Im not a fit candidate!

Oh, you relax!

I could say something un-PC

But you wont!

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Choose another expert! I insisted. Before its too late!

Cant do, he snipped back. Tred didnt ask for just anyone he asked specifically for you.

Okay, fine! But why do I need to go to Kingstown? Im not some Joan of Arc you can just toss in the fire.

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Nobody is going to toss you anywhere, my boss responded. But it wouldnt hurt you to see whats going on with your own eyes. Im almost positive that whatever business they requested you for is somehow tied to the Kingstown tragedy.

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Oh, hes ever a strategist! Always ready to send his co-worker if not into the fire, then into its ashes. As we talked, I looked at the pillar of smoke, looming menacingly in its unrealness. And now I have to go over there.