A state of disobedience

With the screams of the dying in their ears, the vision of the flames seared onto their eyes, no one, not Republican, not Democrat, not the man or woman on the streets resisted for a moment the most severe curtailing of civil liberties in the history of the Republic. Thus when, seven years later, the United States emerged victorious from what was known in some circles as 'The Arab War,' in some as 'The Moslem War,' in most as 'The War against Terror,' not only were all the previous differences found to be still largely intact, the mechanisms of control had been much improved and enhanced.

Worse, as it had been in 1860, the balance was near perfect . . . and perfectly precarious. The slightest shift left or right could tumble the entire shaky edifice into ruin, even into civil war.

Fortunately, at that time the right person, the right woman, appeared at hand.

Chapter One

From the transcript at trial: Commonwealth of

Virginia v. Alvin Scheer

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DIRECT EXAMINATION

BY MR. STENNINGS:

Q. Sir, Please state your name for the Judge.

A. Scheer, Your Honor, sir. Alvin G. Scheer.

Q. And where do you live, Mr. Scheer?

A. Well, the past several months, at least, I've been living if you could call it that, at the Fairfax County Jail. Before that? I lived in Texas, little town called White Deer, not too far from Amarillo.

Q. Mr. Scheer, please tell the judge your story.

A. Yes, sir. Your honor, I understand from Mr. Stennings I need to tell y'all everything. I don't mind. But where to begin?

If it 'tweren't the worst of times; surely 'twern't the best, neither.

Heard something like that once on an old movie on TV. 'Best and worst.' Might maybe have come out of a book. Don't rightly know. I ain't no educated man. Always been just a simple working man . . . 'simple'— that's me. Not sophisticated, you know. Not like them folks over in Washington, the ones that got all the answers to everything.

I watch 'em. I watch 'em on TV. Got an answer for everything. It used not be so bad; I remember. Used to be a man could rightly expect a job, a wage to support his family and himself, taxes that didn't eat him alive. Nope, surely 'twern't the best.

Lotsa folks turned to religion . . .

Washington, DC

'Willi! Willi! Willi! WILLI!'

The sound grew. Louder and louder the crowd chanted as their goddess ascended the stage to the podium. The chant's force caused dust to spring up from little unseen corners of the auditorium. It assaulted the ears. It overwhelmed the senses. It made the internal organs ripple in a way that was unpleasant to anyone not a devotee of politics.

To Ms. Wilhelmina Rottemeyer, President-Elect of the United States of America, the sound was orgasm. Never in her life had a thrusting man entering her body given her such a glorious feeling. To be honest, never in her life had a man made her feel anything but weight, that and—not infrequently— disgust. Her ex-husband had mostly made her feel disgust.

Reaching the podium, Rottemeyer surveyed the rainbow sea of devoted, ecstatic faces before her. She locked eyes with her lover, her true lover, retired—and soon to be recalled and promoted—Army Lieutenant General Caroline McCreavy. McReavy smiled warmly. Another small shudder of orgasm swept Rottemeyer's body, though it failed to reach her face.

Lifting both arms up and outward, palms down, Rottemeyer made gentle patting motions. Gradually the sound ebbed. WILLI! Willi! Willi! Willi.

She began to speak. 'My people. My people. I have just received a telephone call from the President. He concedes the electio—'

Louder even than before, the crowd broke out in a mindless animal shriek of fury and victory. Windows vibrated, threatening to shatter. Rottemeyer vibrated too as she closed her eyes and smiled a sort of Mona Lisa smile, another little orgasm well hidden.

Eyes opened again. The smile grew wider. It grew divine. All gazed—glassy-eyed, slack-jawed—worshipping with hearts full to bursting.

'The way was hard. They' (everyone knew that by 'they' Rottemeyer meant the Republicans, the religious right, the antichoice fanatics, the prosperous . . . the people who disagreed with her, in other words) 'fought us long and hard trying to steal this election. They tried every low, dirty, sneaky, legalistic trick in the book,' said W. Rottemeyer . . . Esquire.

'They even murdered the man who should have been standing here today.' Or at least we made it look that way, thought W. Rottemeyer, murderess.

'Anything but accept the will of the People!'

The People howled their outrage and their triumph until quelled again by their leader's gentle pats.

'But now the will of the People is made clear to all. Not only do we control the presidency, but with the switchovers and gains in both the House and Senate we control the legislature. With that, we will control the Supreme Court.'

'From this day forward the past is swept away. No longer will we tolerate oppression. No more will we accept second place. Never again will the rich oppress the poor. In the new, glorious future we will bring dead white men will finally lose their throttle on progress! My people, the great day is here!'

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