Neal Stephenson - Interface

Anyone wearing white tie or a formal gown was now being viewed with intense suspicion by the Posse. Mary Catherine and Eleanor found themselves dead center in the Rotunda, surrounded by Posse members facing outward, as the remaining guests were herded toward the outside of the room.

Between the knot in the center and the people crowded to the edges, there was a broad, doughnut-shaped, empty space, now occupied by a grand total of three people: a minicam operator from CNN, his sound man, and a bald, middle-aged man in a long black robe. The robe was a flimsy thing made of synthetic fibers and looked as though it had been wadded up into a ball and then sat on for a few days. It was unzipped to reveal a bulletproof vest underneath; beneath the vest, a black T-shirt could be seen. This guy was a member of the Posse.

In his right hand he was carrying a thick black book with the words HOLY BIBLE printed on the cover in gold letters. A single sheet of typing paper was clasped in the front cover.

"Excuse me," said the man in the black robe, standing up on tiptoes trying to see over the shoulders of the bodyguards, "but I could not help but notice that the Chief Justice has been incapacitated. Can I be of some assistance here?"

"Who are you?" Mary Catherine said, peering at him between a couple of Posse members.

"Stanley Kotlarski, Fifth Circuit Court Judge, Cook County, Illinois," the man said. "Mel asked me to hang around in case something happened to the Chief Justice. Are you ready to do the honours, or are we going to stand around here all day?"

The circle of bodyguards opened up to admit Judge Kotlarski and the camera crew. Judge Kotlarski pulled the sheet of paper out of the Bible and then handed the Bible to Mary Catherine. "You know the drill," he said.

She did know it. She had just done it about fifteen minutes before. Now, tear-streaked, blood-stained, barefoot, and dishevelled, she did it again: held the Bible out in front of the President-to-be. Eleanor Richmond didn't hesitate. She put one hand on the Bible and held up the other one. Judge Kotlarski looked at the cameraman. "You ready?"

"We're live to planet Earth," the cameraman said. Judge Kotlarski began to read from the sheet of paper. "Repeat after me. In the middle of the oath of office, Eleanor and the Judge had to raise their voices; they were nearly drowned out by the sound of a medevac chopper setting down out front, then, within a few seconds, lifting off again.

Mary Catherine didn't pay much attention to the oath. She was looking out the windows, watching the chopper carry her father away. The first thing she really heard was the voice of the President issuing her first order: "Evacuate and seal the Rotunda."

Then President Richmond bent down, pulled a thick black envelope out of her bag, and ripped it open.

William A. Cozzano arrived at the Lady Wilburdon Gunshot Wound Institute via helicopter, roughly fifteen minutes after the bullet had entered his body. By that point, he had lost roughly half of his blood supply. He was trucked straight into a trauma room, where his chest was split open by Dr. Cornelius Gary. The President was in good hands: between his service in the Gulf War and the trauma centers of D.C., Dr. Gary had personally treated more gunshot wounds than any other physician in the United States.

Before going under anaesthesia, Cozzano's last words to his son, James, were: "You're free now, son. Go out and be a good man."

Dr. Gary worked to mend Cozzano's shattered organs for thirty minutes. William A. Cozzano died on the operating table at 12:58 p.m., having been President for just under one hour.

The first document in the black envelope was a one-sentence executive order that continued in force all of the orders made by Cozzano from the inaugural platform.

President Richmond moved her temporary headquarters to the Senate Press Room, which was easier to secure than the Rotunda, and well equipped with communications gear. She ordered a confirmation from all elements affected by Cozzano's orders that they had received, understood, and would obey. She faxed a message to the ops center on the seventh floor of the State Department and told them to send a copy to every other country in the world. The message stated that today's violence was strictly a domestic affair, things were in order, and full disclosure would be made soon.

She called in the Senate and House leadership. Each was examined by a physician. The Speaker of the House, who had suffered a stroke in November and been rehabilitated at the Radhakrishnan Institute in California, was declared to be medically incapacitated - the document stating so was already drawn up inside the black envelope; the senior whip of the majority party took over as acting House Speaker.

She sent out messages to all four network anchors requesting their presence in the Rotunda. They and their crew members were all carefully frisked and then ushered up to the Senate Press Room, where they interviewed President Richmond, who was flanked by the Senate majority leader and the acting Speaker. The most junior Justice on the Supreme Court had by now been rustled up and brought into the room.

The broadcast went live to all the networks at 2:08 p.m. Eleanor led off by making the first official announcement of President Cozzano's death.

Then she said, "You see before you the three branches of the United States government. Our purpose in being here is to reassure you of the continuity of the basic institutions of this government and to respond to the questions of these journalists, which will hopefully reflect the concerns of the nation."

A network anchorwoman raised her hand. Eleanor nodded to her.

The anchorwoman said, "Madame President. How do you feel at this moment?"

Cyrus Rutherford Ogle, handcuffed in the back of the GODS truck, had no idea what was going on until about 2:30, at which point the doors were suddenly thrown open and he was blinded by a rectangle of pure white light.

Framed in the white rectangle was a man in a black suit. Behind him were several men wearing dark FBI windbreakers. "Ogle," said the man in the black suit, "I've been looking for you."

"Howdy. Who are you?" Ogle asked.

"I'm the new Attorney General of the United States," the man said.

"I've been out of touch the last little while," Ogle said apologetically.

"Oh. I'm sorry. My name is Mel Meyer."

Ogle was deeply mortified. Not to mention confused. "I thought that President Cozzano was going to appoint-

"Change of plans. When you weren't there to keep things in hand at the crucial moment, we had to do a little improvising. I had to step in and fill the vacuum. You know all about filling vacuums, don't you, Mr. Ogle?"

"Well, I've done my share."

"But I think you'll be happy with the results," Mel Meyer said. He waved his hand at the FBI men. "I've directed the FBI to arrest you. I'm sure you understand."

Ogle didn't understand at all. "On what charge?" "Turning the Attorney General's best friend into a degraded slave," Mel said. "And a number of other charges which I have written out at great length, and which we can discuss in the fullness of time. President Richmond has ordered you held for a few days until we can sort things out." "President Richmond?"

The FBI agents grabbed Ogle's arms and hauled him up out of the chair where he'd been sitting for the last two hours. His feet almost slipped out from under him on the blood-slickened floor; they gripped his arms tightly and ushered him out the door and down the steps. An FBI chopper was idling on the ground in Taft Park.

"I hope you're not going to use the power of your office to pursue some kind of personal vendetta," Ogle said, shouting back over his shoulder as the agents took him across Louisana Avenue.