Post by JimmyJames on Jul 28, 2011 11:50:03 GMT -5
August 7, 2032
"There is nothing to fear.... but fear itself."~Franklin Delano Roosevelt
President Saebel sits at his desk in the Oval Office, overlooking the Rose Garden, looking to the outside world to release him from this prison called The White House. Usually, this brought him some sort of relief whenever he needed the opportunity to relax. But as he looked out the window, he noticed something was... off. Well, it had been since the start of his administration, but it was now more than ever. He gazed at the hazy sky and sighed. "How the hell did I get here?" he said listlessly.
Yes, how the hell had he gotten there? O yes, only everything ever invented crumbling into little piles of rubbish and stopgap measures that did little or nothing to fix it. Politicking that would make Stalin and Hitler proud. Saebel noticed the orange tint of the air, sunset mixed with pollution. Yes, America had fallen into some deep crap and he, though good-naturedly, tried to fix it. All his "Presidential Patches" had only sunk his nation deeper into the rotting carcass of complete destruction. Long ago, America had lost all economic trust with the rest of the world and broken off relations, irking many of the countries who borrowed from the U.S. on a regular basis. As a matter of fact, China had declared war only a week ago. Currently, he was trying to work out some sort of agreement with them. But it wasn't looking pretty for him.
The TV flashed and a report streamed in about losses taken in Northern California. Chinese victory. America had become too poor for a regular armed force, and was now looking to the streets for recruits. In other news, The President was to make a great speech tonight in primetime.
"No need to remind me..." murmured Saebel. He knew what was coming. He really didn't want to do this. He didn't want the Mark of Cain on his name. But it was necessary. He wanted to help the people, her really did. This had been killing him for the last 4 years, being unable to do a single thing. He gave it his best, but his best couldn't do anything at all.
"Dad?"
"Hey son.." Saebel, for the first time all day, smiled. "Aren't you supposed to be at Leo's?" "I figured you might need me for something." "You've always been good at seeing people in need." They sat and watched the pundits try and determine the subject of the speech. They expected only more legalized propoganda. The boy laughed. "Wait til they see what you've got in store for them Pops!" Saebel glanced sideways at him. He stopped his laughing. "Sorry... Too serious, isn't it?" "I'm telling the people, my people, what they don't want to hear... it's a very heavy burden i carry on my shoulders, my boy."
The boy looked down, then looked out into the Garden. It had gotten darker, but there was still an orange aura around the city. "Fires," he thought to himself. The citizens of Washington had gone into full on desperation mode. Unemployment was high, and so was homelessness. That, and building a fire was much less expensive than using a gas stove. He knew, because his friends who lived by the University had told him as much... and he had witnessed it on his undercover missions for Atley, the director of the CIA, and a good friend of Saebel's.
"I think it's 8:45." That was the clock. It was modeled after The Thinker, a favorite sculpture of Saebel's at the Smithsonian. They sold like hotcakes.
"Who knew?" said Saebel, "Who knew that my favorite possession would come to bring me to my death?" "Death? It said it's a quarter to 9. Aren't you being just a little morbid?" Saebel took his turn to look out the window.
"No... it may as well be. After this speech, every citizen in the nation will want my head... I'm even looking forward to it almost. I hate this feeling of helplessness... of isolation. I don't deserve to live, my boy. My will's in the desk. Take it. Don't read it until you understand what is happening. You may think you do, but there is so much that you do not know."
The boy did as he was told. He took out a small envelope, and stuffed it in his long coat. An out-of-season cold front had swept into DC, and everyone was feeling it. "Pops, are you sure you want to go through with this?"
No response.
"I think it's 8:50."
Atley had Saebel in his grasp. "Where is your Secret Service?" he growled. "I told them to get ready in the Red Room with Thomason." Thomason was the Vice President. The boy observed the exchange and had determined that the President, his father, knew for sure he was going to die tonight. "You are a fucking idiot. Lance, what were you thinking?!" Atley shoved Saebel to the floor. A sharp gasp escaped Saebel as he fell. "No wonder people say that you're incompetent. And to think that I used to defend you in front of such nay-sayers!"
A deadly silence had fallen over the Oval Office.
It seemed that the gravity of the words had suddenly dawned on Saeble. "Used to? What do you mean, Gavin?" No reply.
"I think it is 9"
"Time to go, Mr. President." Atley left the room. Saeble went to his son, sighed, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Remember, my boy, we have nothing to fear, but the thought of fear. I am sure you will find your destiny. I am sure that you will bring me happiness in the other life, as I have tried to bring to you in this one. Goodbye. I love you." "I love you. Good luck, Dad." Saeble smiled again, and headed to the Rose Garden.
He looked at the grandeur of the halls as he walked. So many Presidents before him had walked down these halls, solving the problems of the country with such precision and greatness. And here he was, surely the worst man for the job, giving America her final nail in the coffin. It had started ten years ago, but he was the one stupid enough to try and fix it. Trying to fill a broken cup with water is impossible after all. He walked up to the podium.
"Good evening, America."
A pause.
"I come here tonight to bring you news. There is an old saying out there: A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Now whether or not that is true, I do not know, but I do know this. Everything that I have done in my 4 years as your President has been done in attempting to fix the country that I love, and the people of this country that I love even more dearly. I have always been an honest man, and everything I said before was said in perfect honesty; but that was only because I underestimated the situation that we as a country were in. Now, I have come to give you one last State Of The Union address."
"The economy is a-shambles to say the least. Many companies have gone out of business, and in their wake, have put you, the American people, in the unemployment lines in droves. The housing market bubble burst at least 15 years ago. We can no longer pay any of our debts, and our debtors have declared war. Just now, Northern California was invaded by Chinese forces. It won't be soon before long, but the borrower will become slave to the lender, I regret to report. We simply cannot keep up the Armed Forces of any branch; we, like you, are bankrupt."
"As for welfare, we can no longer supply that either. Unemployment? Fired. Social Security? Insecure. WIC? Screwed. Universal Healthcare? Dead. And your elected representatives? Fighting, like dogs over a wishbone. That is the honest truth."
A pause, as Saebel struggled to fight tears. He failed.
"No longer can I remain naive. I realize what is going on. I do not know how you will treat me. I do not know how history will view me; but I want you to forgive me, America. The United States is too far gone. We have failed, America; and this time, there's no recovery program that can help you now. There is nothing that can save you. America, you are on your own.[/i]"
"Good night, good luck, and God bless you."
He turned away, waiting for the assassin's bullet. Instead, he only heard shocked silence. Ah, the sound of silence, how deafening it was in its stillness. He turned the corner.
Atley was there. "Come quickly, there's been a breach in security... Thomason's dead!" Saeble, hysterical as he already was, was paralyzed in fear at that moment, as did as he was told. He was locked into a meeting room. "Leave." Atley pointed the command at his security detail. After they left, Atley redirected his attention to Saebel, and clapped. "Applause, applause... quite the maestro... conducting one final piece with that great Saeble art of communication to perfection." Saeble looked at him. "Too bad it's your last, Lance."
"GAVIN! AFTER ALL WE'VE BEEN THROUGH... YOU'RE DOING THIS TO ME!" Atley laughed, and responded "But of course. Wouldn't it be fitting if the President's most trusted friend took over in his country's time of need, to fix the holes that he created?" "THOSE HOLES WERE NOT MINE TO BEGIN WITH! I TRIED... BELIEVE ME.... AND HERE, YOU.... YOU TRAITOR, YOU BELIEVE YOU CAN FIX THIS!...." He stopped exhausted; then continued. "You truly are a son-of-a-bitch... You aren't worth a fucking penny."
Atley cocked his pistol. "Who said the penny was worth anything?"
BOOM.
Saeble slumped over, dead. Atley smiled, and shot him in the head to make sure that the deed was done. Then he got onto his walkie-talkie. "Clear the premises. We're hunting geese." and walked out.
The boy had been in the room's closet; he had been scared by the commotion from next door. "How could he do that? How... could..." and he curled on the floor and cried, passing out. "What the hell do I do now?" was the last thought on his mind.
"There is nothing to fear.... but fear itself."~Franklin Delano Roosevelt
President Saebel sits at his desk in the Oval Office, overlooking the Rose Garden, looking to the outside world to release him from this prison called The White House. Usually, this brought him some sort of relief whenever he needed the opportunity to relax. But as he looked out the window, he noticed something was... off. Well, it had been since the start of his administration, but it was now more than ever. He gazed at the hazy sky and sighed. "How the hell did I get here?" he said listlessly.
Yes, how the hell had he gotten there? O yes, only everything ever invented crumbling into little piles of rubbish and stopgap measures that did little or nothing to fix it. Politicking that would make Stalin and Hitler proud. Saebel noticed the orange tint of the air, sunset mixed with pollution. Yes, America had fallen into some deep crap and he, though good-naturedly, tried to fix it. All his "Presidential Patches" had only sunk his nation deeper into the rotting carcass of complete destruction. Long ago, America had lost all economic trust with the rest of the world and broken off relations, irking many of the countries who borrowed from the U.S. on a regular basis. As a matter of fact, China had declared war only a week ago. Currently, he was trying to work out some sort of agreement with them. But it wasn't looking pretty for him.
The TV flashed and a report streamed in about losses taken in Northern California. Chinese victory. America had become too poor for a regular armed force, and was now looking to the streets for recruits. In other news, The President was to make a great speech tonight in primetime.
"No need to remind me..." murmured Saebel. He knew what was coming. He really didn't want to do this. He didn't want the Mark of Cain on his name. But it was necessary. He wanted to help the people, her really did. This had been killing him for the last 4 years, being unable to do a single thing. He gave it his best, but his best couldn't do anything at all.
"Dad?"
"Hey son.." Saebel, for the first time all day, smiled. "Aren't you supposed to be at Leo's?" "I figured you might need me for something." "You've always been good at seeing people in need." They sat and watched the pundits try and determine the subject of the speech. They expected only more legalized propoganda. The boy laughed. "Wait til they see what you've got in store for them Pops!" Saebel glanced sideways at him. He stopped his laughing. "Sorry... Too serious, isn't it?" "I'm telling the people, my people, what they don't want to hear... it's a very heavy burden i carry on my shoulders, my boy."
The boy looked down, then looked out into the Garden. It had gotten darker, but there was still an orange aura around the city. "Fires," he thought to himself. The citizens of Washington had gone into full on desperation mode. Unemployment was high, and so was homelessness. That, and building a fire was much less expensive than using a gas stove. He knew, because his friends who lived by the University had told him as much... and he had witnessed it on his undercover missions for Atley, the director of the CIA, and a good friend of Saebel's.
"I think it's 8:45." That was the clock. It was modeled after The Thinker, a favorite sculpture of Saebel's at the Smithsonian. They sold like hotcakes.
"Who knew?" said Saebel, "Who knew that my favorite possession would come to bring me to my death?" "Death? It said it's a quarter to 9. Aren't you being just a little morbid?" Saebel took his turn to look out the window.
"No... it may as well be. After this speech, every citizen in the nation will want my head... I'm even looking forward to it almost. I hate this feeling of helplessness... of isolation. I don't deserve to live, my boy. My will's in the desk. Take it. Don't read it until you understand what is happening. You may think you do, but there is so much that you do not know."
The boy did as he was told. He took out a small envelope, and stuffed it in his long coat. An out-of-season cold front had swept into DC, and everyone was feeling it. "Pops, are you sure you want to go through with this?"
No response.
"I think it's 8:50."
Atley had Saebel in his grasp. "Where is your Secret Service?" he growled. "I told them to get ready in the Red Room with Thomason." Thomason was the Vice President. The boy observed the exchange and had determined that the President, his father, knew for sure he was going to die tonight. "You are a fucking idiot. Lance, what were you thinking?!" Atley shoved Saebel to the floor. A sharp gasp escaped Saebel as he fell. "No wonder people say that you're incompetent. And to think that I used to defend you in front of such nay-sayers!"
A deadly silence had fallen over the Oval Office.
It seemed that the gravity of the words had suddenly dawned on Saeble. "Used to? What do you mean, Gavin?" No reply.
"I think it is 9"
"Time to go, Mr. President." Atley left the room. Saeble went to his son, sighed, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Remember, my boy, we have nothing to fear, but the thought of fear. I am sure you will find your destiny. I am sure that you will bring me happiness in the other life, as I have tried to bring to you in this one. Goodbye. I love you." "I love you. Good luck, Dad." Saeble smiled again, and headed to the Rose Garden.
He looked at the grandeur of the halls as he walked. So many Presidents before him had walked down these halls, solving the problems of the country with such precision and greatness. And here he was, surely the worst man for the job, giving America her final nail in the coffin. It had started ten years ago, but he was the one stupid enough to try and fix it. Trying to fill a broken cup with water is impossible after all. He walked up to the podium.
"Good evening, America."
A pause.
"I come here tonight to bring you news. There is an old saying out there: A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Now whether or not that is true, I do not know, but I do know this. Everything that I have done in my 4 years as your President has been done in attempting to fix the country that I love, and the people of this country that I love even more dearly. I have always been an honest man, and everything I said before was said in perfect honesty; but that was only because I underestimated the situation that we as a country were in. Now, I have come to give you one last State Of The Union address."
"The economy is a-shambles to say the least. Many companies have gone out of business, and in their wake, have put you, the American people, in the unemployment lines in droves. The housing market bubble burst at least 15 years ago. We can no longer pay any of our debts, and our debtors have declared war. Just now, Northern California was invaded by Chinese forces. It won't be soon before long, but the borrower will become slave to the lender, I regret to report. We simply cannot keep up the Armed Forces of any branch; we, like you, are bankrupt."
"As for welfare, we can no longer supply that either. Unemployment? Fired. Social Security? Insecure. WIC? Screwed. Universal Healthcare? Dead. And your elected representatives? Fighting, like dogs over a wishbone. That is the honest truth."
A pause, as Saebel struggled to fight tears. He failed.
"No longer can I remain naive. I realize what is going on. I do not know how you will treat me. I do not know how history will view me; but I want you to forgive me, America. The United States is too far gone. We have failed, America; and this time, there's no recovery program that can help you now. There is nothing that can save you. America, you are on your own.[/i]"
"Good night, good luck, and God bless you."
He turned away, waiting for the assassin's bullet. Instead, he only heard shocked silence. Ah, the sound of silence, how deafening it was in its stillness. He turned the corner.
Atley was there. "Come quickly, there's been a breach in security... Thomason's dead!" Saeble, hysterical as he already was, was paralyzed in fear at that moment, as did as he was told. He was locked into a meeting room. "Leave." Atley pointed the command at his security detail. After they left, Atley redirected his attention to Saebel, and clapped. "Applause, applause... quite the maestro... conducting one final piece with that great Saeble art of communication to perfection." Saeble looked at him. "Too bad it's your last, Lance."
"GAVIN! AFTER ALL WE'VE BEEN THROUGH... YOU'RE DOING THIS TO ME!" Atley laughed, and responded "But of course. Wouldn't it be fitting if the President's most trusted friend took over in his country's time of need, to fix the holes that he created?" "THOSE HOLES WERE NOT MINE TO BEGIN WITH! I TRIED... BELIEVE ME.... AND HERE, YOU.... YOU TRAITOR, YOU BELIEVE YOU CAN FIX THIS!...." He stopped exhausted; then continued. "You truly are a son-of-a-bitch... You aren't worth a fucking penny."
Atley cocked his pistol. "Who said the penny was worth anything?"
BOOM.
Saeble slumped over, dead. Atley smiled, and shot him in the head to make sure that the deed was done. Then he got onto his walkie-talkie. "Clear the premises. We're hunting geese." and walked out.
The boy had been in the room's closet; he had been scared by the commotion from next door. "How could he do that? How... could..." and he curled on the floor and cried, passing out. "What the hell do I do now?" was the last thought on his mind.