"I can if you can convince a couple of your brethren from Mississippi to vote with me."
"I can put in a few good words. Maybe twist some arms. Yeah," Moore said.
I've got the summary for you, sir.
Let me see it.
Here it is. Moore started to scan through the summary that Abigail had developed from the data.
"You're giving me the election, Hardin."
"Well, that's politics. You're giving me a reelection in return." There were always several meanings to every political move. Moore would have to watch himself closely around the senator. Who knows what else he might want in the future. But for now, this was good enough. It would take one phone call to Amaka Chi to put a stop to the entire affair.
"Good enough, Hardin," he said, nodding approvingly. "Good enough."
November 2, 2388 AD
Washington, D.C.
Monday, 9:35 PM, Earth Eastern Standard Time
"In surprise to everyone from Sol to the Oort Cloud today, the impeachment hearings of President Moore were brought to an abrupt halt. The attorney general today released evidence that indeed the blueprints for the QMT-4 teleportation technology were leaked to the press, but not by the White House. It turns out that the blueprints were altered and then leaked to the press by the FBI as part of a sting operation to uncover a double agent in the Department of Energy laboratories at Los Alamos. The sting operation was ongoing and classified in a compartment that the Tau Ceti Commission was not privy to. So, they reached the conclusion that real information had been leaked. Apparently none had been. The interesting question that was left lingering was if the leaked information was false, how did the Separatists develop the quantum membrane teleportation technology? The attorney general replied that just because the Separatists are fanatics does not mean that they don't have smart scientists working for them also.
"This news and the replay of footage from the president's speech this morning, where he introduced heroes from the terrorist attacks and from the now unclassified raid on the terrorist facility in the Oort Cloud, has flipped the polls completely. All of the polls now have President Moore taking both Orlando and Luna City, giving him more than enough votes for reelection. It seems now that all that is left to do is vote."
"She wants to see you, Alexander." Sehera sat down beside her husband on the couch in the media room. He was watching the news on every channel at once and was grinning, as he would say, like an opossum.
"What about?" Dee hadn't been in a very talkative mood the night before when he kissed her forehead and told her good night. The last couple of days had been a lot to handle. Maybe now she had reached the point where she was ready to talk about it. Alexander didn't know, but at least she wanted to talk about something.
"I'm not sure, but she wants you." Sehera took the remote from her husband and started flipping the side screens off, leaving just the one larger screen in the middle projecting. Then she started scanning the guide for programming that she fancied. "Well, go."
"All right." Moore sighed and rose slowly to his feet. He was a little sore from his long run the day before. He had been running but hadn't run that far that fast in a few weeks. He stretched his ankles and flexed his toes and then limped slightly to the doorway. By the time he reached the door, the soreness had loosened up enough for him to walk normally. "Shit, I'm getting old."
Down the hall and to the right was Dee's room. She had lived there for four years now, and Alexander had watched her grow from a child to the terror she was today. He tapped lightly at her door a few times.
"Princess, can I come in?"
"Come in, Dad," she said. Dee was ready for bed and sitting up against the headboard, reading. Moore looked at the book with some interest. The cover of it had popular science drawings of modern military mecha and weapons.
"Some light reading, baby?"
"Uh, no. I'm just educating myself on all the mecha that I've seen." Deanna set the book down and looked up at her father. "Dad?"
"What, baby?"
"I'm not a baby, Dad."
"I know, princess. But you'll always be my baby." Moore smiled.
"Uh, Dad." Dee frowned at him the way kids do when they reach that age where they don't want to be called a baby.
"What do you need? Are you okay?
"Oh, sure. I wanted to ask you about the future. Do you think you will win the election?"
"It looks like it. Is that what's bothering you?"
"No. I was just wanting to tell you that I want to be like you when I grow up." Dee looked up at him seriously.
"Oh? You think you want to be president of the United States?" he asked her proudly.
"No, Dad. Yuck, politics is gross." Dee made a sour face.
"Then I don't understand what you mean." Alexander shrugged his shoulders, holding his hands palms-up.
"I want to be a marine."
"Well, what do you expect?" Sehera looked at Alexander. "She has watched you running around in e-suits fighting off tanks with your bare hands since she was really little. You're her hero."
"Yeah?" Alexander's chest swelled a bit.
"Yeah. And mine too." Sehera leaned against him and the two of them sank into the couch under the weight of their lives. "You never did tell me what Hardin gave you."
"Oh that," Moore laughed. "You'll never believe this, but our clever Mrs. Amaka Chi was making deals with some DOE scientists to leak information to the public in a way that she could use to set me up. She thought of it all by herself, too."
"Really?"
"Of course not. Several of the DNC and the Indies were in on it, and the Tau Ceti Commission was nothing but a bunch of witch hunters, bound and determined to find a witch. And when they didn't find one, well, they manufactured one."
"How did Hardin know this?" Sehera raised an eyebrow, more interested in the story now.
"He was part of it," Alexander replied.
"Why'd he help out, then?"
"He says it's for a trade on some earmarks in his district, big earmarks. But you know that can't be all." Moore frowned and hugged his wife to him closer.
"Yeah. He's a puppet. He's working some greater plan angle that he has no idea about. It's his master that has the agenda."
"Which reminds me, I have a meeting in the Oval Office in thirty minutes." Those meetings in the Oval Office in the middle of the night were the ones he never liked.
"Good luck." Sehera kissed him slowly while hugging him tight to her. "Watch your back."
"Right." Moore sighed and sat quietly holding his wife for the next few minutes and trying not to think about anything in particular. That was hard to do.
Alexander closed the door behind him and then toggled the switch to lower the blinds on the other side of the office. He locked the door's manual bolt and then keyed the electronic lock.
Abigail, sweep the room for transmitters.
We're clean, sir.
Set up the jamming fields.
They're on. Nobody will be eavesdropping on you.
Good. Unlock my desk.
Yes, sir. Abigail transmitted the encrypted symbol sequence to unlock the president's desk. A faint click and turning of a mechanism could be heard, and then the middle drawer of his desk slid open about a centimeter.
Alexander sat down at his desk, plopping tiredly into his chair. The legs of the chair barked against the floor, as his weight pushed it backward. He reached to the lower right-hand drawer of his desk and slid it open. He pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Maker's Mark that he kept there for certain stressful occasions. This was one of those. He filled one of the tumblers about three fingers deep and then swigged hard at the liquor.