Richard Stephenson - Resistance

As a spy for the PSA, Stacy’s role was a vital one. Howard Beck had secretly linked his artificial intelligence with its counterpart at the White House. Sterling managed to transfer control of the White House A.I. to his new residence in Colorado. Hal had given his A.I. sibling the name Syd in honor of Howard Beck’s deceased mother, Sydney Beck. Thanks to the linked technology, Howard was able to spy on Sterling and knew, in real time, every move the UAE made. Stacy proved to be just as valuable as Syd in terms of espionage, filling in the gaps when the A.I. failed to gauge the importance of subtle nuances or make gut-level connections to key events.

The stress of her double life was taking its toll on Stacy. She viewed President Sterling as he truly was — an insane dictator. Spending most of her day with the person responsible for snuffing out the life of a sitting president drove her to the brink of madness. At night she dreamed about watching the madman suffer a slow and painful death. She often contemplated killing him herself but knew she could never follow through with such a heinous act. Even if she could squelch her morals, the thought of being labeled a traitor and the subsequent torture and death that would result was enough for her to dismiss the idea entirely. Every night she petitioned the Lord that Howard Beck would prevail and the madman would receive the justice he deserved.

Even when she could enjoy time away from Sterling, her role as his chief advisor brought her grief. Fanatical in his paranoia, Sterling was insistent that top secret communication never be transmitted by computer. All such interaction between Sterling and his eight regional governors was hand-written and delivered by high speed aircraft to be read and burned. It was at this juncture that Stacy was most valuable to Howard. Sterling asked for Stacy’s input on every matter, and she helped him prepare each brief before it was sent to the regional governors. These documents detailed some of the most horrific violations of human rights Stacy had ever seen: Illegal aliens were not deported, they were executed. Those who spoke out against the UAE, foolishly invoking their lost right to free speech, were killed rather than imprisoned. PSA sympathizers weren’t exiled; they, too, were put to death. Any citizen caught crossing into the hundred mile no-man’s land surrounding the Pacific States of America took with them to eternity the knowledge that their families would be joining them as well. The only comfort Stacy found in preparing these briefs was the knowledge that no one in the UAE had a clue as to the whereabouts of Howard Beck.

As her meds kicked in and she began to relax, Stacy instructed Syd to open an encrypted channel with Howard. The internal squabbling between President Sterling and his regional governors would be of great interest to Howard.

***

Simon Sterling was furious with himself for giving his regional governors too much slack to run their territories. If he wasn’t sympathetic to Jim’s role as a grandfather, he would think the regional governors were directly challenging him. Jim Weygandt had taken action without seeing the big picture. The Unified American Empire could not spare so much as a single soldier for the round-up of slave traders. To do so would prevent the military from carrying out other, more vital, functions. Simon had not addressed the issue of slavery with any of his regional governors, and he doubted they discussed it amongst themselves. Truth be told, none of them wanted to face the ugly reality — slave labor was rebuilding the broken country at an impressive rate. To interfere with the system was to bring to a screeching halt the reconstruction Sterling’s advisors had cautioned could take twenty years to complete otherwise.

“Computer.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Contact Regional Governors Jimenez, Walston, and Prince, and inform them that I want to speak to them immediately.”

“Yes, Mr. President. Standby, please.”

Less than a minute later, the three governors were in front of the president’s desk in the form of holograms. They exchanged pleasantries with the leader of the UAE, who was eager to get down to business.

“I trust you all know the reason for this meeting?”

“We do, Mr. President.” Roberto Jimenez spoke for the three of them.

“Were the three of you contacted by Governor Weygandt?”

They nodded in unison.

“May I ask why you chose not to join his cause?”

“Simply put, Mr. President, we felt it was a decision that needed to be made by you,” Governor Jimenez explained.

President Sterling reigned in his budding anger. “My thoughts exactly. I think Jim and his supporters got caught up in the good governor’s passion and acted rashly.”

Lori Prince responded. “Mr. President, I advised caution to Governor Weygandt for that very reason. I urged him to take some time and not let emotion guide his actions. I also strongly encouraged him to discuss the matter with you before proceeding.”

Simon Sterling sat in restrained silence, his piercing stare pinning the trio of governors where they stood. After an uncomfortable interlude, he continued. “The three of you were right not to act on such a delicate matter. While I sympathize with the ordeal Jim’s experienced, his actions were hasty and unwise. The crusade he embarked upon is a fool’s errand and will never see the light of day. We simply do not have the resources to carry out such a monumental task. Our nation is crumbling, and it will take every ounce of our resources to keep our little house of cards from crashing down on us.”

The three regional governors could read between the lines — the slave trade was getting the job done and would be allowed to continue.

President Sterling sneered at the shimmering holograms and paused long enough to ensure that his expectations were understood. Without so much as a word, Simon tapped a button on his desk and terminated the link. As he headed to the south lawn for his morning walk, the president was joined by his protégé, Regional Governor Jackson Butler, the man who’d relieved Howard Beck of his home so President Sterling could take up residence there.

“Good morning, Mr. President.”

“Happy birthday, my dear boy.”

“I didn’t realize you knew. Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Thirty-eight?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“The youngest of all the regional governors by fifteen years.”

“I wasn’t aware of that, Mr. President.”

“Every fruitful endeavor requires youth. Youth brings a forward-looking perspective, the absence of which is profound amongst those of my generation. We’re obsessed with the past and find the notion of change both terrifying and superfluous. We need young minds to broaden our time-warped viewpoint.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. I’m pushing forty, yet you make me sound like a college student; it’s quite refreshing.”

“You’re welcome, Jackson. I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Of course, Mr. President.”

“I’m counting on your honesty. The other regional governors are far too frightened of me to risk making me angry. Are you afraid of me, Jackson?”

“Should I be, Mr. President?” Jackson shot a grin at Simon.

Simon laughed. “Just as I thought. Good.” Simon stopped walking and looked Jackson in the eye. “Do you think The Pulse Zone is worth saving? I’m not asking whether or not you can do it, I want to know if you think it’s worth it.”

“No, I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“Why?”

“Well, the most obvious answer is The Silent Warriors. They were an issue before The Pulse and they’ll continue to be an issue no matter what we do. That being said, they’re not the primary reason for my answer.”