The crowd was still in a mad frenzy of support. Banners and flags waved. Campaign signs tossed up into the air, and, of course, the incessant flashing of the cameras. Pershing once again lifted his arms. One part show of victory, and, as he turned to face the congressmen sitting behind him, one part defiance.
As he put his arms down, he waved the crowd back into only a mild roar.
"I will now take any questions the press may have."
"Sir, you have mentioned a lot of problems that our nation is currently facing, but what exactly do you plan to do about them? The economy for example."
Perhshing laughed. "Why fix it my good man, fix it. We don’t have enough jobs, and we're faced with having to build up our own infrastructure. We have loose ends from the war that still haven't been tied. We need to do all we reasonably can to foster the growth of industry, and lower taxes so that the average worker gets to keep what he works for, and not have it wasted by the government."
"Mr. President, you have been very..... critical of congress, and yet you will have to work with them to put your planned reforms into action. Given your speech, your obviously not burying the hatchet, what do you plan to do?"
"That simple, Whether they like it or not, congress knows the truth. That I was put here in an overwhelming outcry of public dissatisfaction. I won the Presidential election by 87% of the popular vote, if that's not a mandate, I don’t know what is. I would strongly suggest that they quit worrying about their pork barrel pet projects, special interest groups, and country clubs, and begin working in the interests of the people. That is, if, they want to keep their jobs."
"You mean win next years congressional elections?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean, come next year, the people will know if they are getting the representation they deserve, indeed, the representation they were promised by these very men and women."
"President Pershing, is a possible invasion by a foreign power something we should be concerned about?"
"Threats of that nature are always something to be concerned about. But that does not mean in any way, shape, or form, that such a thing is imminent. But what we do need to focus on is making sure that we our military has more than adequate soldiers and weapons to defend out borders. We have virtually no navy to speak of, and that must be given immediate priority. Even if it means purchasing designs and ships from other nations at first, as a stop gap measure."
"Sir, repairing our infrastructure, rebuilding the military, these things are going to cost massive sums of money, how do you propose our nation afford it?"
"First thing, as I mentioned, is the economy. Create jobs. Encourage investment, industry, entrepreneurship. This are the things that form the economic backbone of the superpowers, and they will form ours, as well. Each one of these things will create tax revenue, while stimulating the economy. In time, taxes will even be able to be lowered, with the government still bringing in even more than it is now, with the people of Dixie paying an unfair share. And I’m sorry, I would answer more questions, but I need to get going, Thank you again!!!"
With that, President Frasier Pershing walked inside of Whitmore Manor.
President Pershing walked through the doors to Whitmore Manor, and though he had seen pictures of the inside, nothing compared to this. A political outsider, he had never been privy to such sights in person. He stopped and stared around in awe.
Chandeliers which sparkled like the night sky, elegant, yet comfortable looking furniture about, most of it trimmed in dark cherry wood. The lighting was soft, comfortable, yet majestic.
He took a deep breath, and at this moment a man renowned for his eloquence could only utter three words.
"I'll be damned."
He immediately realized that his mouth was agape, and quickly regain his composure, and asked to be shown his office. When he got there he found the messages from other nations congradulating him on his newly acquired position of servitude.
He was well pleased with the words he read, and it gave him hope and encouragement that at least of his tasks, building the Confederacy's status as a world power, may not be as hard as he had once feared. After reading the messages, he took pen in hand and began writing his responses, He found typed letters to be horribly impersonal, and had never been fond of dictating his words to anyone. Yes, better to do it yourself
The President laid down his pen, and sat for a moment an looked out the window. He had a lot of thinking and planning to do. This was going to be a long day, quite possibly a long night too. He pressed the button on the phone to turn on the intercom into the kitchen, or at least the button he presumed to turn on the intercom.
After a couple of tries, one of which resulted in a cussing match with the landscaper, he managed to get a hold of the kitchen staff.
"Yes, Mr. President?"
"Um, i'm up here in my office, got a might thirsty, and noticed all i had up here was a pitcher of water..... do you have anything.... with a little more kick to it?"
"Champagne sir?"
"Oh, good God no."
"Wine, sir?"
"Ah, no, you have any.... um... hell, do you have any beer?"
A laugh on the other end of the phone.
"Yes, I know, perhaps an odd request given my new found status, but, nonetheless, do you have any?"
"Give us about half an hour sir, we'll send someone to get some. Any preference?"
"Surprise me!"
More laughter. "Ok sir, we'll have it up to you as soon as we can."
"Much obliged to you!"
It actually only took about fifteen minutes before the kitchen servant entered, with a mini fridge on a small dolly, the man proceeded to set the fridge next to the president's desk and plugged it into an outlet which Pershing could not see, presumably under the desk somewhere. After the device had been installed the servant opened the door, The fridge was packed with several beers, soda, and a reseal able plastic container which, upon Pershings inspection, contained salsa.
"The head cook made a few phone calls, to ascertain what else you may desire."
"Well, he did a damned good job." Pershing laughed. "And he did it fast too." He wondered if he was going to have to make a speeding ticket or two go away. "Give him my thanks."
"Certainly sir, is there any thing else which we can get for you?"
"No, this is perfect, and much more than I had anticipated."
"Very well, should you change your mind, you know how to reach us."
"Yes, now I do anyways, tell the guy in landscaping i'm sorry i said those things about his mother....."
"Um.... yes sir."
After the servant had left, Pershing opened one of the beers from the fridge. A tad dark for his tastes, but not bad. He sat there for a moment, drinking and thinking, both were things he was told that he did too much. But, hey, it had gotten him this far, hadn't it? He turned towards the typewriter, someone must have read that he wasn't fond of computers....... and began composing his agenda for the nation.
