"Steve White - The Prometheus Project" - читать интересную книгу автора (White Steve)

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 - Prologue


night of the final debate, when the Vice PresidentтАФwhose handlers had believed his drinking problem to
be safely in the pastтАФhad managed to not quite fall on his face on prime-time TV. His apology to the
nation the next day had made matters even worse than they would have been had he tried to brazen it out.
Voter turnout had been the lowest in the history of presidential elections, with most of Ortega's centrist
base of supportтАФnot to mention the agonizingly embarrassed HispanicsтАФstaying home in disgust. In
spite of everything, he had somehow managed a forty-three percent plurality of the dismally small
popular vote. Ferguson had gotten a once-unimaginable fifteen percent. Another one percent had gone to
the usual assortment of minor-party joke candidates. But Langston's forty-one percent had been
distributed with mathematical precision to give him exactly two hundred and seventy-one electoral votes.
Now he sat in the office he would soon occupy, filled with his triumph and his hatred of the man across
the desk.
"Thank you for clearing the air, Mr. President. Yes, I knowтАФor can imagineтАФwhat you think of me.
And I make no secret of what I think of you." Oddly enough, Langston found himself believing the
President's assurance that no one was listening . . . and it felt so good to be able to finally let it all out,
without DiAngelo to rein him in. "You're a reactionary, warmongering dinosaurтАФa tool of the military-
industrial complex and the multinational corporations! You've ignored the problems capitalism has
inflicted on usтАФpoverty, racism, sexism, suburban sprawl, cigarette smoking, meat eating, SUVs, and
all the rest of our real problems. Instead, you've promoted economic growth to please the fat cats of
Wall Street, and invented imaginary foreign threats to justify military spending."
The President raised one eyebrow. "As 'imaginary' as the terrorism we've faced ever since the
'imaginary' destruction of the World Trade Center back in 2001?"
"What you call 'terrorists' are heroic freedom fighters whom our own greed and imperialism have forced
to defend themselves against us! We brought the 9/11 attacks on ourselves, by our support for Israeli
oppression of the Palestinian people! Besides, the Israelis knew about it in advance and didn't warn us.
They let it happen, to inflame public opinion against the peace-loving people of the Arab world. That's
been clear all along, at least to those of us who aren't blinded by the propaganda of the international
Zionist conspiracy!"
This time both presidential eyebrows rose in arcs of irony. "The Vice President-Elect might not see it
quite that way."
Langston flushed. "Senator Goldman and I have had to agree to disagree about some things. But on
matters other than Near Eastern policy, we share a broad philosophical common ground."
The President gave a short, scornful laugh. "Translation: you had him rammed down your throat as your
running mate. The grown-ups in your party weren't about to accept a loony tune like you as nominee,
even for what was supposed to be a kamikaze run, without a sane moderate to balance the ticket."
Langston rose to his feet, quivering with rage. "If you've asked me here simply to insult me, Mr.
President, I believe I have better uses for myтАФ"
"Insulting you is impossible. Now sit down!"
Without recalling having done it, Langston realized he was seated again. His conscious rejection of his
country's past could not immunize him from the sheer power that pervaded this room, all of it focused
and concentrated in the one man behind the desk.
For now, he added to himself grimly. Until January.


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 - Prologue