Thirteen

Chapter Twenty-three

The Beltway verses The Dome

American Consortium senator Clarissa Cally hated the term "American Consortium. The Stars and Stripes flew over the Capitol building, as well as the White House, but the name change from the United States of America had been made upon creation of the Earth Alliance. It had been two centuries since the EA had came into being, and it still irked many Americans to this day.

As Senator Cally got ready in her home in Georgetown, she remembered what it had been like in 2276, the five hundredth anniversary of America's independence from Great Britain. The Fourth of July was a huge event, but the Europeans in the Earth Alliance Senate whined and cried that it smacked of national separatism all over again. Earth Alliance president Garrison Hollifield had originally planned to be in Washington during the ceremonies, but backed out when his critics blasted him for daring to participate in such an event.

With her defection from the Progressive Conservatives and the way that the Liberal Democrats had embraced her as their new "rising star", Cally had to contend with the hordes of media on her doorstep and in her yard. She had been appointed as minority whip in the Senate by minority leader Raymond Huntington, who was running for the consortium presidency this year. He was in the last weeks of the campaign against the Progressive Conservative candidate, Samantha Rosenbloom, and the polls called it a dead heat. A slate of third party candidates made the race even closer, and speculation was that there would be a runoff on the first Tuesday in December for the fifth straight election.

The limousine pulled up to her house, and her chief of staff, Craig Perry, helped to guide her through the maze of reporters to the skimmer. Once inside, they drove away from the house, enjoying the relative quiet of the car. "So when do you plan to announce your decision?" Perry asked.

"Today. Ray needs a boost in the polls, and since my popularity has spiked since I jumped parties, this is as good a time as ever."

Perry coughed, then asked, "Which office will you be running for, though?"

"Oh, I intend to challenge Hollifield in 2283. Someone needs to bring that old windbag down. The way he just jets off to handle problems on his own, leaving Vice President Garza to deal with the day-to-day stuff!" Cally sighed. "It seems to me he's wanting the ISA presidency more than this one."

"That's true, Senator, but he's still very popular, especially among independents. The last AP and Reuters polls showed his support at sixty-one percent. Granted, that's down four points from the beginning of the year, but you know he tends to go back up the closer to election time."

"I know, Craig, but that's because the Lib Dems haven't run anyone worth a damn! Jamison in 2278, and before him Singh in 2273! I mean, Villarma Singh couldn't have won that election if Hollifield was brain dead and on life support, the way his campaign was run into the ground!" said Cally disdainfully.

They discussed the agenda for the day in the senate, which kept them occupied as their driver fought the usual D.C. traffic to get to the Russell Senate office building on Constitution Avenue. The driver dropped Cally and Perry off in front of the building, and the two had to run a short gauntlet of media before they entered the doorway.

Once inside, though, they were free from them en masse for a time. Cally was a lifelong Washingtonian, her family well grounded in the ways of the Beltway. Since the District had been absorbed into the state of Maryland two hundred years ago, she no longer was bound by the same restrictions of her predecessors who represented the area. She shocked everyone by winning a house seat fourteen years ago, beating the Lib Dem incumbent in Maryland's fourth congressional district in a landslide at the age of twenty-six. She served six terms in the House of Representatives before winning the senate seat from another Lib Dem incumbent in yet another landslide two years ago, and had become a rising star inside the party ever since.

Rosenbloom had offered her the chance to run for the vice-presidency with her, but Cally had turned it down, having become distant from the party's moderate-right platform. She hadn't alienated the party leadership, because they saw in her the eventual successor to Hollifield, but she didn't like him. He was the favored protégé of Luis Santiago, and it seemed as if the party wanted to let him run for re-election over and over again. Since he was from America, the party would never run a fellow American with him for the number two slot.

So she jumped parties, knowing what the reaction would be in both of them. The Progressive Conservatives were mad as hell at her, and she expected even more today with what she was planning on the Senate floor. Her new political bedfellows in the Liberal Democratic party were overjoyed, as the party had languished since the 2230s, only to have a grass roots resurgence in the years after Clark was deposed. Yet Luchenko proved to be just popular enough to stay in office, then once she died, Hollifield's heroism helped him to massive mandates at the ballot box.

But he was getting old, and he was slipping in the polls, and, after today, he would have to face the energy of a young candidate nipping at his heels for the next three years. She wasn't guaranteed the party nomination, but she knew that the Lib Dems needed to have a candidate they could unite around, and she was bound and determined to be their standard-bearer.

She walked with her staffers down a tunnel that took her from the Russell building to the Senate side of the Capitol building. She nodded to her new Lib Dem partners and withstood the invisible daggers being sent her way by her former party members. The P.C. still held a 52-48 majority in the upper house, but her defection had meant that the Lib Dems had a much better chance of taking control of the Senate like they had two years ago in the House of Representatives.

Ellis Harlan, the American senator to the EA Congress in Geneva, met with his former American senate colleagues in the chamber shortly before the session was to begin. The look that he sent her was one of utter disdain, and she shot him a look of a shark that smelled blood in the water. She may look young, but she knew she had sharp teeth, and she couldn't wait to sink them into the juicy flesh of her former party.

They were scheduled to only be there to approve an appropriations bill for hurricane relief for the Gulf Coast, which had been hit by a hurricane just a couple of weeks ago. It was a mere formality, but each senator would be given a chance to say a few words for the cameras so they could get their sound bite for the local news, especially those who were running for re-election and had to suspend their campaigns for this vote.

As the party had timed it, her remarks were to be broadcast live globally around the world during the evening newscasts. Her staff had leaked to the media earlier that day that she was going to decide what she wanted to do as for her future. She looked over as Senator Walt Balmer from South Carolina finished up his remarks with his usual Low Country drawl, then the president of the senate recognized her, and all cameras focused on her as she took to the rostrum.

"Mr. President, I wholeheartedly support this measure and shall vote for its approval. It amazes me that the present administration, to which I formerly was aligned with, cannot accept the fact that they have been in power way too long, and have grown to fat and lazy to change government in a way to better respond to crises like we saw in the Gulf two weeks ago. Heaven knows it wasn't like the Katrina disaster of 2005, Rebecca in 2054, or Haley in 2101, but it was Cassandra was bad enough as it is!

"This ineptness is remarkable, and shows that the party that I so recently abandoned has lost its way, as has its leader, the supposedly all-powerful Garrison Hollifield! I wonder why my former colleagues never thought to ask why our esteemed president who occasionally resides in Geneva why he jets off at taxpayers' expense on secret missions and seeks to hide them from the scrutiny of the public and the media. Was it not in the last election that he claimed himself as a man of character and of high moral and ethical standards?

"Mr. President, the time has come for change. On November 2nd, the people of the former United States of America will sweep the Geneva boot-lickers out of control of our government, elect Ray Huntington president, and give back America her voice in the way this Alliance is run.

"And also, Mr. President, I wish to announce my candidacy for the presidency of the Earth Alliance in 2283. President Hollifield has gone too long virtually unchallenged, so now I throw down the gauntlet and plan on holding him accountable for everything he and his administration have done since the coup that overthrew the late and unlamented William Morgan Clark in 2260. Hollifield isn't nearly as bad as Clark was, but he accepts the will of the Interstellar Alliance far too easily! I shall not be so easy for Delenn and the rest of the ISA to deal with, since I am not their best friend!

"Finally, Mr. President, the people will finally have the reason to sweep the deadwood out from underneath Washington and Geneva! It's time to clean house, and, come November 2nd, we of the Liberal Democratic party shall do just that!"

Cally's colleagues on the Liberal Democratic side of the aisle gave her a standing ovation, while her former colleagues on the other side sat stone faced and silent. The vote was 100-0 in favor of the measure, and as the senators left the hallowed hall where Kennedy, Helms, Clinton, Sonario, and Hasikawa had made their reputations legendary, a jubilant Huntington came up to her and clapped her on her back. "Clarissa, my dear! That was one hell of a speech you gave! You have my full support in taking down that bastard come '83!"

"Why thank you, Ray! And I am sure we'll work very well together once our sweep into power is complete!" she replied, smiling at the thought of taking down Hollifield.

Admiral William Adama and President Laura Roslin sat back as Admiral David Rissen clicked off the monitor. The gruff commander of Babylon 5 sat down on the opposite couch from the two Colonial leaders and sat quiet for a moment. Finally, he let out a long exhalation of breath and said, "This may complicate matters greatly, especially since she knows what we're up to here. She's been an outspoken critic of this place, and I expect that her rhetoric will intensify with this announcement."

"So why bring us into this?" Roslin asked, leaning back on the couch and resting her body after the long trip back from Earth.

Rissen took out a data crystal and put it into the data port beside the monitor. The picture came up and it showed Tom Zarek speaking to Senator Cally on a private channel. "I thought you didn't monitor private channels." Adama said.

"Officially, we don't. Unofficially, we do. Granted, we don't look through all the calls, but this one was brought to my attention when Lt. Col. Valerii was doing a routine check of the communications system." Rissen said, not looking at either of them, instead focusing his attention on the split screen of Zarek and Cally discussing political strategy.

"Then its settled: after the elections take place in your country, I'll announce my candidacy and you'll come here to offer your full support." Zarek said.

Cally nodded and added, "I don't think much of Roslin. She seems just like the lower party flunky that she is, just like Jessica Tanner, our secretary of education here in the United States. She's good at her job, but she'd suck like vacuum if she ever became president."

When the conversation ended, Adama looked over at his commander-in-chief and could see her jaw clenched with determination. "She doesn't know who she's messing with, does she?" said Adama.

"No, she doesn't, and neither does Zarek. Let them think what they will, because when they find out what I'm really made of, they'll be sorry they ever messed with me!" Roslin said through clenched teeth.

Light years away, back on Earth, Hollifield clicked off his monitor and lay back in the recliner beside the bed where his wife rested. "She's really done it, hasn't she?" asked Twanissa Hollifield of her husband.

"Well, she's always been a bitch in the party, and she's never liked me. What worries me is that she knows about the Colonials, and may bring it up in the campaign in three years. Last thing we need is to explain all of this to the public when they aren't ready for it."

"Yeah, D'anna is still unsure what to make of it. You know how she is. She's shy enough as it is, and having her brother-in-law as president makes her even more introverted. This comes out, she'll never want to step outside without being scared of a media inquisition!" Twanissa replied in her Australian accent.

"Well, if Cally wants a fight, she'll damn well get one! I may be an old dog, but I've learned more tricks that her whole Beltway family has in the generations they've been in Washington!" Hollifield then got up, gently kissed his wife on the lips, saying, "I love you, Twa!"

"I love you, Gary!" she replied, saying a name in which only a select few had ever been allowed to call him. Only his late father, uncle, aunt, as well as his five older sisters and first two wives had been granted that privilege, and he despised anyone else using that shortened form of that name.

He sat back in the recliner, pushed a button on the side away from the bed, and had it lean back into an almost horizontal position. Hollifield knew he wouldn't get a good night's sleep on this chair, but as long as he was close to his wife, he would endure it for her.