“We have pulled as many news feeds from the network satellites as possible. In summary: This does not appear to be a localized event. From the limited contact we have had with other news networks — and I must stress that it has been very limited — both here in the US and worldwide, they are experiencing similar, and in some cases far worse circumstances to our own. The consensus of opinion seems to be that there is no current explanation for the event but it does seem clear that an extraordinary occurrence has taken place. We have attempted to contact authorities but have received no reply to our calls. If anybody watching this broadcast is able to explain this situation then we would be most happy to hear from you.”
Norm rifled through a pile of papers on his desk until he found one he was looking for.
“In summary, here is what we have learned so far, and I must repeat that all of this is of course unsubstantiated at the moment: The country is in chaos. Emergency services seem to be non-existent; most telecommunications seem to be down, although some areas do appear to have telephone service. There are reports of several large aircraft crashes throughout the state, including several within Los Angeles Airport and its outlying areas. Fires are burning uncontrolled in most parts of the city. Freeways appear to be impassable due to the large number of vehicular accidents; the same applies to most main streets throughout the city.
“We are receiving similar reports from—”
The newscaster stopped mid-sentence, his left hand moving to his ear as if listening to someone whispering to him.
“—and I’m getting new information… yes… that we are about to receive a special feed from the Whitehouse — are we ready? Do we have the feed lined up? Okay — the Whitehouse.”
Replacing the WWN anchor, another image appeared. A lacquered teak lectern, the presidential seal prominently placed on the wooden upright and echoed in a larger form on the wall of the room in the background.
A door opened and a commotion of people entered the room. One man walked to the lectern escorted by two others, their glances at the few press crowded in front and behind the camera as well as their flat-line expressions immediately betrayed them as secret service.
The man at the lectern shuffled a few papers before pulling the microphone closer to his mouth and then looking directly into the camera.
A shock of black hair highlighted a narrow face watched over by carefully manicured eyebrows. Dressed in a black business suit with a blood-red tie, he looked to be in his fifties. A century before, he would have been described as dapper but tonight he looked drawn and gray: haggard. Pale puffed flesh under his eyes and pink tinged conjunctiva striated with blood.
A white caption appeared in bold letters at the bottom of the screen—VICE PRESIDENT NATHANIAL RODERICK.
“My fellow Americans,” Roderick began, staring deep into the lens of the camera. “I must first inform you that President Sarandon is incapacitated and, that I, as Vice President, have been appointed as President Pro Tem until she is able to resume control.” Roderick’s voice carried a certain lofty tone, bordering on arrogant.
“As you are all by now aware, a major event occurred today, the likes of which no one in the annals of history has ever before faced.
“It appears that the United States has suffered some form of preemptive attack; we do not know who the assailant is or why they have carried out this cowardly assault but you must rest assured that we are already performing the necessary tasks to understand the full impact of the situation.
“We do not know if this is a temporary effect or whether it is permanent, but you must have the utmost confidence that the best American minds are now applying themselves to solving this most disastrous of events.
“Just as you, the people of this great nation are experiencing a time of transition and acclimation, so too are we, your elected leaders. We are all moving through a period of conversion brought about by our present dilemma and it is with that information in mind that — for your safety — I am imposing a state of martial law and a curfew between the hours of six p.m. and ten a.m.
“Please, for your own safety, stay in your homes. This situation will be resolved as quickly as possible. In the meantime, I ask that you all be patient.”
He paused before adding, “God bless America.”
The broadcast from the White House faded, replaced once more with the face of Norm Jones, looking even more confused than he had before the broadcast. “Well,” he said to the camera. “Make of that what you will. But it appears that—”
Thomas pressed the off button on the TV remote and the screen went dead cutting the commentary off in mid-sentence.
They talked about the speech into the small hours of the early morning. It was less of a discussion, and more bringing Jessica up to speed on the events after her death.
The original 2017 had been presided over by the first female president. President Sarandon had been an actor who was vehemently anti-war (some said anti-American) during the early part of the 21st century. She had run for office in ’16 and had gone on to serve two full terms, a respected and strong president who did much to fix the negative image created by her predecessor.
The President’s husband, also an actor, had seemed bemused at being the world’s first first-gentleman, but had taken it all in stride. Sarandon had spent her final days out of the limelight, rumored to be suffering from advanced Alzheimer’s disease.
President Sarandon’s VP was a different kettle-of-fish altogether. It was well known that a wide political rift separated the President from her running mate, their two offices often finding themselves in conflict.
A graduate from the Bush school of diplomacy, Roderick allegedly opposed President Sarandon’s light-handed approach to politics and non-confrontational attitude to policing the world’s hot spots. He was a closet megalomaniac who was so incensed by Sarandon’s repealing of numerous laws he had personally shepherded through congress, it was rumored he had come close to demanding an impeachment on several occasions.
In an expose after his retirement, he was portrayed as a dangerous man with expansionist ideals, a potential warmonger who had only been kept in check by the powerful personality of President Sarandon. A biographer would later quote one source as saying… not since Machiavelli has politics seen a more dangerous, cunning, and potentially disastrous politician.
“The man was… is crazy, I shudder to think what he’s up to now,” said Thomas.
Of course, there were other complications to the political scene that had not immediately been apparent.
In 2042, the President had been — would be? Could be? — Jerome Faulkner, the second African American president. He was a well liked man, nothing remarkable to his Presidency, but at least he wasn’t interested in forcing ‘American values’ down the throat of the rest of the world, whether they wanted it or not.
He was the duly elected president, but of course, he was not going to actually be elected for many years yet.