I got a new job today. Yay! It's actually the same job under a different title but it feels good anyways. I have no desire to move any higher in the food chain than I am already. Some kids want to grow up to be the astronaut, other kids want to design the shuttle.
**The Girl Can't Help It, Little Richard**
"Sir." Alisha knocked on the president's partially open office door. "I am here to set up for your first weekly address." Behind her, Val shifted uncomfortably, her eyes looking everywhere in the room except at the President.
The President had dark circles under his eyes and his shirt collar was oddly creased. It had only been a day and a half since Rachel's shooting and Alisha doubted he had slept much in that time. According to Kara, Michener, Chandler, and Judge Siskin had spent the entire day yesterday holed up in this office.
His voice was hoarse when he asked "How long will it take you to set up?"
Val's eyes snapped back toward the desk. "Do you still want this to be a live video broadcast?"
He nodded. "I suppose I do. Although right now I must look a fright."
Alisha set down the case holding the video equipment. When Michener had first come aboard the Nathan James she had been sure he was continuing to work for the Immunes. Although now she wasn't as sure, she was still a little wary. The man seemed so humble and so genuine that he had won her over on a personal level, even if rationally she knew she should remain objective. And in all honesty, in their position at the start of a long road to rebuild the country, the Secretary of Housing and Development wasn't a bad guy to have on your side. "If I might make a suggestion sir?" Michener nodded wearily. "It will take us about twenty minutes to get this set up. Why don't you go get a change of clothes and wash up while we do that."
"I think you're right. I ought to do that." He nodded to the two women. "Please, set up the video so I can sit at the desk, he pointed toward the large desk in center of the judge's chambers that he had taken over. "With the easel to my right visible on screen. I've got a few maps and charts to show."
"Yes Sir." She smiled reassuringly. Another thing Michener had going for him was that he was unfailingly polite, even when giving orders. It was almost as if he felt guilty for asking people to do things for him. As he quietly left the room, she wondered, not for the first time, what he had been like before the virus hit. After all, her mother had a similar level position but she'd certainly never been uncomfortable bossing people around.
After he left the room she and Val set to work. If she was suspicious of Michener, she was doubly suspicious of Val. Still, the woman did have some skills they could really use. "I'll get the camera set up while you work out the satellite link."
"Aye Aye Cap'n" Val mock saluted.
Alisha couldn't quite pinpoint why the woman irritated her so much. Perhaps it was because she was supposed to be so smart but had been so easily duped by the Immunes. Or maybe it was because she seemed to have such a disregard for authority. "I'm only a lieutenant." She tried her hardest to use the kind of stern look she remembered her mother giving her when she got out of line as a teenager. Her chest grew a little tighter at the thought of her mother and the words came out as a growl.
"Your wish is my command, Lieutenant." Val blew her an air kiss. Something about seeing her purse her lips, a twinkle in her eye nagged Alisha out of her anger and she couldn't help but clamp down the half smile that rose in response.
For a few minutes the only sounds in the room were clicks of equipment being assembled and the tap of computer keys. Once the camera was on the tripod and connected to the screen, Alisha asked Val to sit at the desk so she could get the camera focused and test the volume. Val, true to form, immediately put her booted feet on the desk, leaning back so her red dreads hung over the arm of the chair. "I wonder if he's going to tell everyone Rachel was assassinated?"
Jeff wet a paper towel with cold water and patted his face. A shave would go a long way toward improving his appearance but he didn't have time to go back to his apartment in the Radisson and do that. So, he sighed in relief as the cool water soothed his gritty eyelids, this would have to do. He'd need to remember to set up a space here in the courthouse for freshening it up.
At least he did have a spare shirt and tie handy. He began to strip off his crumpled clothes and toss them over the door to a bathroom stall. The bandages on his wrists had given way to a thin strip of tape to hide the ugly stitches there but it still made his stomach curdle to look at them. He couldn't even keep his own family safe, never mind everyone else's. He quickly shoved his arms into the sleeve of the new shirt and began to button the cuffs. One step at a time he reminded himself, one step at a time.
He looked himself in the mirror as he slung the tie over his shoulder. Lieutenant Granderson had been right though, he did look and feel better as he cleaned up. Still, sometimes when he thought about how much needed to be done to get the country back on its feet, he just felt like crumpling to the floor like a wet paper bag. How could he do it?
He was leaning over the sink, running over his speech in his mind when it struck him that the perfect test subject was just upstairs. He grabbed his dirty shirt and headed out the door with renewed vigor.
Tom was in his office leaning over a table full of maps with Lieutenants Mejia and Foster. When Jeff strode in he glanced at his watch. "Ah, Mr. President. Aren't you doing a broadcast soon?" Mejia and Foster stood at attention.
"Relax everyone, please." He doubted he'd ever get used to people treating him this way. He was just a guy doing a job. "I came up to talk with you about what I'm going to say."
Chandler glanced between Michener and the Lieutenants. "Would you give us a minute?"
"Yes sir" Kara nodded curtly "Mr. President." and headed for the door, Gator in her wake. As she pulled the door closed behind her Jeff felt Chandler's gaze once again.
"Having cold feet about your daily broadcast idea?" He motioned to a pair of chairs by the windows.
He only had to consider that a minute. "Actually no. That's an easy decision to stand by." And it was. The president used to give a daily media briefing at the White House. But this was the 21st century and it seemed time for a president who spoke directly to the citizens. And then suddenly it struck him why he hadn't wanted to make the speech he had planned this morning. He flopped into one of the chairs and leaned his head back, still speaking. "I've feel like it isn't enough to tell people to come to St. Louis for the cure and if they can't do that, to wait to find out where we'll deliver it next. We need to act faster, do more."
Tom's response was slow to arrive, his voice wary. "OK, what do you have in mind? Do you want to scrap the plans we made yesterday?" What did he have in mind? He wasn't sure. But he remembered with a flash the way people hugged and shook hands with strangers at the arch yesterday afternoon during the time Dr. Milkowski had designated for meeting and spreading the cure. That should be happening everywhere, not just in some special location.
"No, we need to push forward with the existing plans. Getting the country back on its feet is essential for security. But, we also need to commission a civilian corps to travel the country, spreading the cure as fast as possible. I want to ask people to volunteer, to receive the cure, a brief training, and be sent out again, to bring the cure back to their homes and neighborhoods, not just here in the middle of the country, but everywhere." He felt the urgency inside him and gripped the arm of the chair.
"Civilians sir?"
The idea had him now. "Yes. If we do this on military manpower thousands more people will die before we can get to them. The very first volunteers we will need are some people to run it. That's what I'm going to announce today. None of this dithering about tuning in tomorrow to find out where we'll be next." He sat up and opened his eyes. Tom was staring back motionless. "Who would you appoint on the military side?"
Tom rubbed a hand down the side of his face. "Logistics like this blow up into complicated operations fast. And..."
Jeff knew what Tom was going to say. He needed his people. Everyone already had a task. They'd spent all day yesterday sorting out the greatest needs and coming up with a plan to tour the country. And it was a plan he didn't want to abandon, but that plan was about government. This plan was about people. He briefly ran through the names of the people who had helped in his escape but when it came down to it, he didn't know their specialties and backgrounds.
"Lieutenant Burk." Tom was warming up to the idea now. "Carlton is excellent at logistics and planning for the unknown. I was intending to have him help Master Chief get a military recruiting program in place, but spreading the cure is the priority." Jeffery nodded. Yes, that was exactly what he needed. A healthy, young, strong person out in front of this program. "He'll need help though. Carlton isn't exactly a people person." Tom continued.
"What about Granderson?" Jeffery liked the young woman. She reminded him of her mother and a more strategic and intelligent woman he'd never met.
Tom shook his head regretfully. "No. If people connect her name to Baltimore they won't trust us. Miller is good. He and Burk work well together and he needs more leadership experience."
"Alright." Jeff nodded his head. "I like this." He meant it honestly. As soon as the idea had popped into his head he'd realized that the reason he'd been dreading speaking to the American people was that he didn't have enough to immediately offer them. He clapped his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet. "I feel better already. Thanks Tom." He extended a hand.
"No, Thank you Sir. For always thinking of a better way to serve the mission." Tom didn't look thrilled, but being the good soldier he was, Jeff knew he would make it happen.
Jeff headed back down the stairs, already forming a new speech in his head. His doubts were still there, but for a moment he really did feel like he had something worthwhile to offer.
Alisha peered around the viewfinder. "Knock it off. That's the President's desk!" she hissed. As Val begrudgingly put her feet on the floor Alisha continued. "He's got to be positive, for morale. And besides, it's probably best if he doesn't provoke whomever of your crony's are left."
"I've told you already, they were very convincing and I was scared and isolated." Alisha caught Val's scowl as she adjusted the camera. "So you think he is or is not going to tell people? Another way this could go is that he uses her death to spur an outcry against the immunes, essentially creating civilian pressure against them."
Alisha pondered that for a moment. "I don't think Michener is the sort of man who..." Val's eyes suddenly widened. "What?" Alisha turned and was startled to see that the President was standing in the doorway, one brow arched, arms crossed over his chest. In a clean shirt and tie, with his hair freshly combed he looked much more suited to the role of leader of the free world than he had twenty minutes ago.
She stood at attention immediately. "Relax, please, or at ease, or whatever it is I'm supposed to say." He waved a vague hand toward where Val was rising, albeit slower than Alisha, but still with her cheeks coloring a little at being caught in the President's chair. "I'm curious Granderson, what kind of man you think I am?"
She pondered for a moment as he crossed one leg over the other and settled more deeply against the door frame. "Ah, permission to speak freely sir?" She asked, a bit tentatively.
"Granted." He inclined his brow slightly but held her gaze.
She glanced at Val for a second. "I feel like usually I know enough about politicians to either love or hate them, but with you I'm not sure. I've looked up news stories about you and I see you've worked in both Republican and Democratic administrations. Your policies seem to have a strong element of fighting overt discrimination but they also seem to encourage gentrification of older areas which tends to economically exclude people."
He nodded but only said "And?"
"Well Sir, you haven't run for office so I don't know what you think about a lot of issues that matter to me, and that's a bit uncomfortable. From knowing you on the ship these past two weeks, you seem to be very people oriented. But I also know you were gullible enough to buy what the Immunes were selling..either that or you're pulling the wool over us all." She pressed her lips together and didn't say more, fearing he'd be offended by her candid appraisal.
But rather than be offended he just nodded again. She felt Val looking between the two of them uneasily and the silence became un-comfortable. "My job is to support you, which I will certainly do because I also trust in Chandler and others to act as good advisors, but I feel very unsure of where we're going as a country." She noticed he nodded to all her comments but neither smiled or frowned and wondered if he had an incredible poker face or was just prone to hiding his emotions.
"Well Lieutenant, what you have to say is all very fair." He turned toward Val. "What about you?"
Val looked up from her computer screen like a deer in the headlights. "Me sir?"
"Yes, you're a citizen of voting age so your opinion counts. What kind of man do you judge your President to be?" Alisha caught Val's panicked look and she noticed that Michener very deliberately relaxed his stance against the doorway even further. Perhaps he was acting a part after all. "Come on. How bad can it be?"
At that, Val sighed and ticked her head to the side. "OK well you asked for it." Alisha felt a frisson of alarm wondering what Val would say. Try as she might to understand her, she still felt like Val was as unpredictable as a teenager. "I suspect that in the past you only cared about partisan politics in so much as it got in the way of your assigned tasks. You've been the inside guy as you've risen through the ranks so I have no doubt that people liked working with you and you did a good job carrying out an agenda set by other people. But, I think you haven't stated your position on anything because you're a man who always sides with the winning team. You are obviously knowledgeable and intelligent, but you lack the spine and sense of cause that a President needs. You followed the Ramsey's because they were leading and because they told you what you wanted to hear. In short, you are a sheep in shepherd's clothing."
Alisha held her breath waiting for the President to argue against her or tell her to keep her criticisms to herself. For Michener's part, he withstood her forceful evaluation without any obvious reaction. Val sighed and shoved her hands in her pockets. "And I might be a bit of the same. I wanted to be remembered as a revolutionary, be a hero, so I bought into their crap too." She admitted.
Michener pressed his lips into a grim smile. "We all want to be better than we were before." He eyed both women. "Thank you for being honest with me. I suspect honest feedback will be harder to get the longer I stay in this role." He motioned for Val to move out of his seat. "Are we ready to film?"