AmEarth
Chapter 12

President Chen Tyson sat behind his desk, contemplating the whirlwind of political victories that had recently yielded the first world empire. This was a major victory for America, and few knew that better than Neil Chen Tyson, whose family had become one of the wealthiest on the planet. His father’s interests had global tentacles, as he controlled the vast majority of the world’s supply of pork. The family also had interests in solar power and electronics, having diversified back in the first decades of the twenty-first century to avoid the volatility of the financial markets.

However, President Chen was not only happy with his family’s fortune; he was also happy with having total political and military control of the planet. New directives concocted by the central computer had resulted in gun control on a planetary scale and had criminalized the deadly use of force. No one else on Earth could match the forceful hand of a world army with its satellites and cameras everywhere. Powerful computers, both in the Shadow White House and in other capitals where AmEarth had established them, could identify the perpetrator of any crime from images taken on the streets. Added to this was the identification of pings left by people when they used their wafers, as well as identification through DNA signatures and traditional fingerprints. New babies being born worldwide received mandatory DNA sampling, and upon reaching the age of eighteen, they would receive their first government-issued wafer. In essence, everyone on the planet was being tracked, and the movements and habits of every individual were documented from very early on.

The powerful computers would identify any unusual behavior in a person and send real-time notices to their wafers and nearby authorities. All of this was viewed as a service, rather than as the intrusion and invasion that it truly represented. The AmEarth system allowed people to have a sense of freedom, but there was an invisible fist controlling everything else. The same applied to business; entrepreneurship was highly rewarded, as long as it remained out of the political arena and didn’t violate “World Security.” “Freedom through Regulation” would be one of President Chen’s lasting legacies. To some, this all felt heavy-handed and a breach of rights, but those were mostly operators of businesses in that gray area where regulation is impossible—prostitution, drugs, and other illicit activities.

The thorn in the side of AmEarth, like all empires of the past, was rebellion. Empires die shortly after their military budget becomes bloated and unsustainable. This time, however, AmEarth had achieved its goals without putting any boots on the ground, but the military cost was still quite high. President Chen had made it a priority to quell any doubts of the alien threat wherever they appeared and as quickly as possible. Now that the world knew about the alien threat, it had to remain in the minds of civilians. Any doubts would need to be dealt with efficiently. The Keplerian enemy must be perceived at all times as a clear and present danger.

“Get me Johansen,” President Chen spoke harshly into the intercom.

“Right away, Mr. President.”

Peter was in his office, hoping that Scott would drop the whole subject of AmEarth’s legitimacy, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He thought that someone might be getting to Scott, but that paranoid thought did no good for anyone, so he shook off the idea. He was a new minister at the highest ranks of power and would not start peeking around corners just yet. He noticed Mary, his secretary, rise from her desk and rush toward his door. His heart began to pound. Oh no, what now…?

“What is it, Mary?” Peter said.

“The Executive wants you—up there,” Mary said quickly.

“So you run at me like the building’s on fire?” His pulse slowed a bit, but not by much.

“Sorry,” Mary looked down at the ground.

“It’s okay, Mary. Did they say when?”

“Right now. President Chen said immediately.”

Peter got up and walked to the elevator, stepped in and pushed 97. Only when he had a legitimate appointment would the elevator begin to move. Entering level 97 without an appointment was impossible. In a few seconds, he was back in the glass world of the executive office. He saw President Chen sitting in his office, apparently reading something on a wafer hanging before him.

“He’s waiting for you,” Rosemary informed him as she led him to the inner office.

“Thanks,” Peter said.

He walked in, and President Chen instantly changed the walls to wooden privacy once more.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Peter said.

“Hello, Peter! Sit down, please,” President Chen instructed him with a calm, measured voice.

Peter sat and waited for President Chen to speak. President Chen continued reading something on his wafer, which was hanging from its wiry stand. He turned the wafer so that Peter could see the information on it. It was a bio on Peter with his face on it, as well as a picture of his family.

“Peter, your name is constantly being selected by our central computer,” President Chen said.

“I don’t understand, sir…Have I done something?” Peter replied, suddenly nervous.

He began to perspire, as he feared that Scott’s information on Kepler 3763 might have something to do with this.

“No. You have done everything,” President Chen said.

“I don’t understand,” Peter answered dumbly. “Can you be more specific?”

“You have done everything right.”

“Right?”

“Yes, Peter. You have done everything right. Let me explain. We’ve been struggling with the maturity of AmEarth. You see it is a marvelous achievement, and with Bolivia and New Zealand now in, we are asking Essie to determine what is best for AmEarth as we move forward,” President Chen explained.

Peter silently sighed with relief, trying to remain as cool as possible, he had heard the nickname of the super computer before but pretended not to know.

“Essie?” Peter asked.

“Essie is the nickname of the Super Computer, S.C. you get it?”

“I do.”

“We asked her for the best system of succession for the presidency, among other viability questions, of course. Succession to the role of supreme president must not be a problem as it was in other—for lack of a better word—empires. AmEarth has the advantage of knowing history and all of its failures, in addition to having Sssie to help avoid those failures,” President Chen continued.

“What has this got to do with me, if you don’t mind me asking, sir?”

“Everything. Essie determined that supreme presidents of AmEarth should come from the ranks of civil servants; they should be in power for an average of fifteen years, and they should be from America by descent, birth, and belief system. As you can see, the US is the founding entity of AmEarth and its values need to be preserved. After all, what is the purpose of a global system if it doesn’t come from the best political and economic system the world has ever had? Essie also determined that the best candidate should have studied and excelled at history, have pursued higher education, have a family with two to three kids at most, have good looks, have no interests in financial affairs that could corrupt him, and finally, have global fame.”

“You’re not saying that…”

“Yes, Peter. Essie continues printing your name as my possible successor.”

Peter felt that he had to sit down, but he was already sitting. His mouth was open and his emotions were everywhere, despite his inability to form words.

“But you don’t think this is right…Right?” Peter asked, wishing he had phrased that question a bit better.

“Oh, but I do. This job is tiring, and my family interests make the job nearly impossible at times. My daughters are not interested, and their husbands are not good men. I have never thought that any of them could succeed me in this post. Also, I am constantly accused of having made my fortune larger, as if having a global market was going to make it smaller. Everyone knows that the computer is programmed to favor business, as long as it is fair business. I have done nothing wrong, but the criticism and the rumors are a constant pain. I’m tired, Peter. I want to retire and enjoy some of my wealth while I can. The role of this office is more like that of an overseer. Remember, Essie always replaces the best way,” President Chen finished.

“When?” Peter asked.

“Not immediately, of course. We need to deal with some problems first and to make sure that you’re on board.”

“Oh, I am.”

“And your family?”

“I’m sure they will be, too.”

“It won’t happen for some time, but you need to start your training as soon as you confirm that your family is okay with all of this.”

“I will let you know by tomorrow.”

“Good.”

Peter walked down the corridor to the elevator, but had no feeling in his legs or feet. He didn’t know whether to cry, laugh, run, or collapse into a pile. This wasn’t happening to him.

He felt like he was floating and sensed that everyone was somehow aware of what President Chen had told him. Looking around, he saw that people were busily working; the few who saw him smiled politely. It was surreal; the world had just been knocked off its axis, and no one seemed to be affected but him. Suffice it to say, it would be an interesting night at the Johansen home.

That evening, Peter broached the subject gently to get a response from his family. They all sat in the elegant dining room at four places near one end of the long Queen Anne-style table, being formally served by the housekeeper. Barbara had opened a bottle of vintage Heitz Cellars Beaujolais from 2011; the wine helped Peter to roll out the words he needed to say.

“Now that we’re all together, I wanted to share something rather amazing that happened to me at work today,” Peter began.

They all kept eating and paid him very little attention. Brianna’s wafer kept making clicking sounds as messages stacked up.

“Wafer off, Bri,” Peter said, interrupting his own flow.

“Wafer off,” Brianna dutifully said.

Peter held Barbara’s hand and looked into her eyes.

“I was offered the presidency of AmEarth.”

“What?” Barbara squealed.

“Come again?” Scott’s eyes perked up, and he sat up straighter than he had in years.

“That’s fantastic, Dad!” Brianna said.

Peter didn’t say much after that. That’s all he really knew. After their initial reaction, the questions began to come fast and furious.

“But Peter, you’re not an elected official. How can you be the next President?” Barbara inquired.

“Yeah, Dad, why you? Did you ask for this?” Scott said, his curiosity already budding.

“No, and yes. It seems that Essie keeps choosing us as the ideal presidential family. Something about my face recognition, the number of kids, our looks, the fact that we’re American, my education…” Peter repeated the list that President Chen had mentioned.

“Who is Essie?” Scott asked.

“Essie is the super computer, its a nickname.”

So the computer chose us? Like it chose the name AmEarth?” Brianna asked.

“What will this mean for us?” Scott asked over his sister’s question.

“Secret Service?” Barbara tagged on to her son’s question.

“Everyone just hold off. This was just a comment that President Chen made to me, and I wanted to see what all of you thought. Would you be okay if we became the first family of AmEarth?” Peter asked.

“Ummm, of course it would!” Brianna said without hesitation.

Peter turned to his wife.

“I’m okay with it if you are,” Barbara, the ever-supportive love of his life, replied.

Scott was silent. His father looked at him and could tell that he was thinking hard. Inside Scott’s head, there was the huge contradiction. One side had the bug of the Kepler 3763 document and the hoax, the other the possibility of living in the White House and having his own father in the history books.

“I’m fine with it. I think it’s great, Dad,” Scott spoke, knowing that this was a moment to be supportive of his family, not bold and brash with his beliefs.

They all sighed with relief, and Peter turned as the phone rang.

“Rosa, can you get that, please?” Peter raised his voice so she would hear in the kitchen.

After a short pause, Rosa came back into the room, looking pale and panicked.

“What is it, Rosa? Are you okay?” Barbara asked.

“It’s, it’s…President Chen on the phone. For Mr. J,” Rosa said.

“Thank you, Rosa,” Peter smiled, amused at the thought of Rosa answering the phone to replace the president on the other end.

He went to the wall wafer in the kitchen, but returned to the dining room a few seconds later.

“Honey, it looks like I have to go in. There’s a crisis, and I’m needed,” Peter confessed sadly to his family.

“What is it?” Scott asked.

“Nothing important. Good night, all. And honey, don’t wait up for me.”

“Bye, Peter.”

“Bye.”

As soon as Peter had left the kitchen to get ready to leave, they all began to chat and speculate about the possibilities of being the first family. Peter, having grabbed his coat and car keys, reentered the dining room.

“This is important: All of you, not a word about this to anyone. Anyone! This includes you, too.” Peter directed that last comment at Barbara.

Then he heard the familiar clicking sound of Brianna’s wafer.

“Bri, stop that. Delete whatever it is. You are not to send anything relating to the presidency. I’m serious. I will take your wafer away for a month! Do you understand?” Peter shouted. Privacy was of the utmost importance now.

“Yes, Dad. Geeeeze!” Bri whined and rolled her eyes.

“Bye! Not a word!”

“Honey?” Barbara called.

“Yes, dear?”

“Can I tell my mom, at least?”

“No.”

Peter headed to his office, wondering what emergency had arisen that had caused President Chen to need him. This was not the first time he’d had to deal with an after-hours crisis. As a Foreign Affairs deputy, he’d had to routinely deal with time differences, but this was the first time he couldn’t deal with it from his home phone. President Chen had been specific; he needed to come to the Shadow White House in person.