Chapter 2: The Best Laid Plans

Ames slept here for centuries, oblivious to the outside world. While he remained in stasis, the nation quickly fell off a cliff that the CIA had anticipated, but didn't think would happen so quickly. The election of 2024 was the first victim.

The republican party, though gerrymandering and other attempts to combat "voter fraud", had ensured their own party would win every presidential election, and deeply unpopular candidates would still win in local elections. Ballot boxes were made illegal, and all voting had to take place at one location per county, between the hours of 10:00 AM and 6:00 PM. Those that couldn't vote in time were simply lectured on how they were too late. Giving water to those waiting in long lines was made a "felony", since it was described as "voter influence" by republican state legislatures. Voting by mail was also made illegal, as it was "insecure" and could be faked. How so, this new law didn't specify.

Lastly, state legislatures had the authority to nullify their states' election results and send their own electors for President if they found evidence of "voter fraud". This "evidence" oftenly consisted of hearsay, an affidvit by a biased witness, or grainy camera footage.

Among other "conservative" actions, the intelligence community, for which Ames had worked so hard and meant so much to him, was cut down since it simply wasn't profitable. The CIA had its funding reduced, and then they and all other intelligence agencies were merged into the FBI. In 2027, by order of President Marjorie Taylor Greene, the FBI's new focus was "problems at home", instead of abroad. And what she and other conservaties meant by this was attacking Democrats as well as any secular or progressive idea, such as environmentalism, since these were the worst threats to corporate profits.

Education was also drastically altered in the coming decades. "Critical race theory", or any type of curriculum that was critical of US history, was eliminated. Teachers became increasingly annoying when demanding "fair wages", which was considered "socialism". A term no republican politician, or especially voter, could define, except that it was "evil and un-American". As a result, republicans replaced them with temp agency workers, or whatever the cheapest alternative was. Educational quality collapsed, and along with it standards for graduate programs were also eroded.

Regarding the military, it simply wasn't profitable to maintain a presence in areas where a major war could occur, which itself would be expensive and potentially unpopular. In 2035 President Herschel Walker called back all US forces in Asia, Europe and other areas. The defense budget remained the same however, and this money was funnelled to defense contractors and corporations who made weapons. The budget even saw increases, when republicans said "national security" needed an increase.

Politicians still took selfies aboard aircraft carriers and in front of tanks when fundraising on "being the best military in the world", or "American exceptionalism", which they also never defined.

Following this, Russia, China and Canada filled a power vacuum. Canada picked up the slack in Europe to help contain Russia, while Russia and China did pretty much whatever they wanted. US allies, such as Japan, South Korea and Free Ukraine were absorbed by these two by 2047, though this didn't appear in the news.

Many other adjustments to American life or institutions occurred over the coming centures. It was hoped by the remaining sane Americans that the Democrat party would step in and stop this. However, the Democrats themselves had ideologically split into two camps. First was the Establishment, which were also corrupted by corporate money and held onto the "pipe dream" of working with republicans for the "United" States. Secondly was the more extreme crowd, which were more fixated on using the correct gender pronouns, which now could refer to any of the 56 genders or sexual preferences. Avoiding "micro-aggressions" was a higher priority than any leglislation to guarantee raising the minimum wage, so these people failed to win a single election, state or Federal, after the first century had passed.

Ames felt himself stirring when the year 2305 had finally arrived. In those first few moments, he didn't register this as any different than other mornings. He thought of this "dream" of getting into a machine to travel to the future, but as he became more awake it dawned on him that one of two things happened, either he had really travelled forward, or the machine had failed and the project cancelled. He stepped out of his chamber, his legs stiff and his head dizzy. It was oddly still and quiet in here; he took his kit, and since no one else was in the room with him, he assumed no one else had been allocated for this project.

He gathered his thoughts for awhile, looking over his documents and deciding now what his plan would be, assuming the project had worked. His phone was dead, which was no surprise. His first step would be to return to the CIA and apply for work there. He expected he would easily integrate, and he could begin surveying how this future looked. If they weren't available or he couldn't join them, he would find some other intelligence outlet. His expenses shouldn't be a problem, if the plan went smoothly.

He changed back into one of his suits, and put the other cloting into his kit bag. He went to the door of the warehouse, wondering what to expect. Whether the world, or humanity, would even be on the other side. He unlocked it, and gazed at the world in front of him, his eyes sitll adjusting to the light.

The woods surrounding the warehouse were all gone, replaced with concrete and industrial buildings. The sky itself was hazy, and it felt hot, like August. The warehouse itself was government-owned and was never sold, the bureaucrats giving it little thought other than as an old document repository, though all the grass and woodland surrounding it had been sold to developers, for a profit. Ames began to wish at least a bicycle was stored with him, as he walked to the road.

"Well, so this is 2305. Maybe I can see all the flying cars and droids... I hope they understand me when I talk. I guess I can get a taxi and head back east, to see what happened to the headquarters", Ames thought to himself. He knew, intellectually, where he likely was, but part of him hadn't fully realized the gravity of what had happened. As he neared the road, the question dawned on him as to how he would pay for a taxi, or a bus, or whatever they had. Perhaps he could hitch-hike to a bank and get some modern money.

Shortly, a taxi pulled up, which was trapezoid-like in shape and emited loud, thick exhaust, though was still yellow and had the "Taxi" placard. Ames, especially paranoid about being viewed as awkward or different now, walked up and asked, "Hey um, I'm trying to get back to the CIA, it's to the east of here... what method of payment do you take?" He spoke a bit slower and purposely enunciated.

The taxi driver stared back at Ames, with the engine running. Ames was increasingly fearful that he would be an outcast and his "mission" would end right here. Was this gambit a huge mistake?

The driver then responded, "Oh totes yeah, east of here. I don't know what a CIA is though."

Ames felt a rush of relief. "Oh, it's just to the east. It's a large government building, working in intelligence? Lile the NSA, FBI?"

"Oh ok, I know that thing. So you work there?"

"Uh, yes. I want to go there and begin an assignment."

"Ok cool. Government people ride free. You have a badge?"

"Uh, sure." Ames showed him his CIA badge out of habit, though the CIA had been defunct for centuries. It looked impressive enough, however, and the driver couldn't tell one government acronym from the other. The driver also failed to remember that the statute only allowed members of congress to ride for free, on taxpayer expense of course, though this was lost on him.

"That's cool, get in", the driver offered. Ames got into the taxi and as they headed east, he heard a strange babbling coming from the radio. It sounded like a young woman had just suffered an aneurysm and was suffering from a seizure. "What the...?", Ames thought to himself. He surveyed the landscape around him. Smog filled the air, while decrepit-looking vehicles belched smoke. The potholes were atrocious.

"Man, they should really fix the roads", Ames offered as smalltalk. "And some of these cars around here need an emissions check."

The driver didn't comprehend what Ames meant by "fixing" the roads, or "emissions check". Before he crossed the Potomac, less than halfway to the FBI headquarters, Ames said "my builidng is actually right here, it's near the river."

The driver knew the building. "Oh, that old place? I guess your first assignment's to get into some tig ol bitties ha ha!"

Ames didn't know what to make of that. "Uhh... not exactly. There's a guy I have to speak to, and then I might have to go to the FBI. It's a... secret mission. Spy stuff." Ames was hardly a "spy" anymore than James Bond's drycleaner. But it's just what came to mind. He cringed at how silly it sounded.

"Ohhhh... ok. We'll be there shortly. I get paid either way so you do what you've got to.

The taxi pulled up, and Ames could hardly process what he was seeing, as he stepped out and toward his old, storied workplace. The builidng was still here, but it was vastly different. The old "Kryptos" monument had been removed, and along the front of the building read:

DIRTY DAN'S SMUT PALACE

LIVE NUDE GIRLS!

LAPDANCE SPECIAL!

THEMED ROOMS!

"What... the...?", Ames said under his breath. He gazed in dsibelief, seeing the flashing lights and hearing the faint music come from within. Was *this* what became of the CIA he had worked so long for? The former heart of US intelligence, the Spy Museum? The place where he had met personally with the director? Ames had maybe expected a different intelligence agency to take over the building, or the CIA to rebrand itself, like it had before when it was previously known as the Central Intelligence Group following World War 2. But this atrocity left him heartbroken. It was his only "family", even though he wasn't the most popular among his co-workers.

It might seem odd that the prudish republican party would permit such an establishment. However, they were only "publicly" prudish. After the CIA was dissolved, they were more than happy to sell the building to business owners just like Dirty Dan, in exchange for a hefty down payment and monthly special "taxes". Any accusation against a particular member of congress accepting this money was derided as "fake news", and the reporter arrested.

Ames stood there for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, the taxi driver asked him, "Did you find the guy you were looking for?"

Ames came to his senses, and slowly returned to the taxi. "No... he... isn't here. I think I should get on to the FBI". He thought to himself, "assuming they haven't been converted to a Halloween supply store."

During the drive, Ames asked the driver, "Awfully hot this time of year. Time gets away from me, is it August already?"

"August? No, it's only February. Tomorrow is Valentime's Day. I guess it can be hot, like, in the city."

Ames was stunned; he knew of global warming back in his day, but it was held in check, at least a little, by regulations at the expense of corporate profits. "How is it so hot now? Isn't anyone in charge?", he thought to himsef.

Finally, they pulled up to the FBI headquarters, formerly the J. Edgar Hoover Building, now re-named as the Jeff Bezos Plaza. He had bought the naming rights shortly before he passed, though Ames didn't know why the name changed. He was only glad the FBI was still here.

"Thanks, I'll be on my way now."

"OK secret agent man. Break a leg!"

Ames was a bit confused, but went up the building and entered. He observed the main placard on the wall, reading:

FBI

Faith, Bibles, Intelligence

"That's odd", he thought to himself. The separation of church and state surely wouldn't permit such a display? At least it says 'intelligence', so I'm in the right place." He approached the receptionist and asked in earnest: "Say, I've been interested in intelligence for awhile, and I was wanting to join up here. I have natural talent, and I think you're always looking for new agents. I'm especially interested in working as an analyst." He looked at the receptionist, who didn't react.

She eventually responded: "Like, working?"

"Yes, I'm looking for a position."

She pressed a button on her desk. A computer voice read out "Please proceed to HR for your aptitude test, located on the third floor located in room 314."

Ames responded, "Thanks".

The computer voice responded, "Thank you!"

Ames took an application test, dealing with fairly basic matters of intelligence, math and logic problems. Ames was then told to return the next morning for the results, since he didn't have a phone he could be reached at.

"I guess I better get a place for the night", he decided. He then used his card at an ATM, which surprisingly worked. He went to a hotel about a block from the FBI, checked in, and planned to return the next morning. The test wasn't that hard, so Ames anticipated an interview or a more exhaustive test for a particular position.