Flash. Gerald cast his eyes across the garden from inside
the waiting suite, wondering, thinking of what he was about to impose onto the
country. It was a bold move, liable to cause complete anarchy, but change had
to come despite the cost. He had hope, honest real hope, that it wouldn't all
collapse, but he didn't want to simply carry on, knowing what he knew. It was
time for a change. A dramatic change.
He couldn't fathom how many times he’d relaxed his mind,
using this very view to appreciate what they were all given, but despite the
beauty in the world, within his world, he’d seen enough to finally move
forward. Turning, as the door opened, he smiled as Cynthia arrived exactly on
time. She was reliable, honest, despite a few of his staff simply agreeing to
whatever he stated, he’d come to appreciate her qualities and frank ability to
see things clearly. They’d had blazing arguments behind closed doors but, above
all, he appreciated the fact that despite him being the president of the United
States, she always tried to keep him rational and down to earth.
“How is today looking?” he asked with warmth and a slight
amount of tension in his voice.
“It’s all going to plan. Absolutely no leaks, murmurs, nothing to suggest that anyone knows what you’re about to do,” She replied, with the same tension, “are you sure you want to do this?”
“After billions being spent, my entire fortune gone, I couldn't change my decision even if I wanted to do so! Talk while we walk?” He asked as Cynthia nodded and smiled.
“It’s all going to plan. Absolutely no leaks, murmurs, nothing to suggest that anyone knows what you’re about to do,” She replied, with the same tension, “are you sure you want to do this?”
“After billions being spent, my entire fortune gone, I couldn't change my decision even if I wanted to do so! Talk while we walk?” He asked as Cynthia nodded and smiled.
He’d met Cynthia on the campaign trail, marvelled at her
energy, the drive, the fire and, in all honesty, he knew that she’d probably
make a better President but sometimes fate didn't work that way. He’d support
her, once the last year of his residency ended, but had a feeling that she
wouldn't even attempt such a task. “What’s happening out there today Cynthia?”
he asked as they walked from the office to the corridor.
“Amazon and Walmart are willing to contribute sizeable donations, to secure the space under 400 foot,” she paused letting the information settle, but only for a second, “Oil reserves are now at 37 percent and holding, for now and that’s it for today.”
He knew that Cynthia was looking for a change of mood, a possible reaction, but he’d been working on his poker face, blocking his often easy to read expressions.
“You can tell Amazon and Walmart that the sky isn’t for sale, at least until my Son has become bored of flying aircraft and, the oil, will shortly become a non-issue. Hopefully.” He glanced at her face, knowing that she’d been checking, “How did I do?” he asked.
“Not bad, not bad at all. This time!”
“Amazon and Walmart are willing to contribute sizeable donations, to secure the space under 400 foot,” she paused letting the information settle, but only for a second, “Oil reserves are now at 37 percent and holding, for now and that’s it for today.”
He knew that Cynthia was looking for a change of mood, a possible reaction, but he’d been working on his poker face, blocking his often easy to read expressions.
“You can tell Amazon and Walmart that the sky isn’t for sale, at least until my Son has become bored of flying aircraft and, the oil, will shortly become a non-issue. Hopefully.” He glanced at her face, knowing that she’d been checking, “How did I do?” he asked.
“Not bad, not bad at all. This time!”
They both laughed and, as the door approached, he stopped to
stretch his neck a few times. Tension, at moments such as this, simply wouldn’t
do. He handled the stress, even become accustomed to it, but it was still there
within his bones and especially muscles. Stretching worked wonders, as did
laughter, but there wouldn’t be any laughter for now. “Ready?” asked Cynthia.
“More than I’ll ever be in my life!” he replied and then moved towards the door.
“More than I’ll ever be in my life!” he replied and then moved towards the door.
The lights started to flash the moment the door opened,
leading into a large room filled with representatives of every known main
newspaper in the entire world. The buzz, the aura of the room, hit him and it
never managed to seem old. The adrenaline moved through him and he caught the
energy, held it, calmed himself and approached the podium. He glanced around
the room, seeing familiar faces, some new, some old, but all wanting to feed
upon his words. Every single letter, for the people in front of him, spelt
money. Hundreds of articles, spinning of words, the joining of conclusions and
more.
He cleared his throat and began. He knew that the words
would cause immense shock but this had to be done. He removed all fear from his
voice, erased it from his mind, then began.
“Good Evening. Today is a brave new day for the people of
the United States of America. Today, on this day, we are embarking on a planet
level change. We are about to lead the entire world in to a new era of
positivity, growth and energy. For too long we have been held back, by greed,
consumption, hidden wars and corruption on a global scale. I am talking about
our daily lives, how we move through our lives, with our loved ones, to simply
existing.”
“Today, right now, I have made a decision to move the $582.7
billion defence budget, for two years, to create and implement the factories
required to manufacture part electric, part solar powered cars and other
vehicles, for each and every single person who would like to participate. For a
small charge of $800 dollars, per household, you can purchase two cars. As you
have already funded this initiative via taxation it would be unfair to charge
more. This, as well as other initiatives, are meant to eradicate the necessity
for oil. For consumption. For waste. This…”
Flash. Clive leaned back in to his chair, shaking his head,
amazed by what he’d seen. “Un-plug him and get him back upstairs!” he barked.
For the last few years each University graduate, that had political motivation,
had been tested for Presidential suitability and, as he’d known Gerald for a
few years, he did have high hopes of success with this candidate. His clients
paid a small fortune for this project and yet, so far, only two out of 90
tested presented the correct results. He needed to find someone charismatic,
who believed in the appropriate way, but the new educational system was
creating thinkers, people that wanted change, yet change could not be allowed to
happen.
Ten minutes later Clive sat within the library dorm room,
smiling at Gerald, while explaining that the results had been positive, that he
would have a fantastic future. Gerald shook Clive’s hand, expressed
pleasantries and left the room. Pressing the power button, on his laptop, the
screen appeared and next to Gerald’s name, Clive typed, ‘Not suitable. Will not
be presented with any avenue to proceed further than grade Foxtrot.
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