Inauguration--Part II

The new President made her best effort to pace herself, but it was badly trying. She found her pulse slamming harder in her head than during the last televised debate. Or election night, for that matter.

Her inaugural speech flowed across her lips, free as breath. "...Our world has evolved beyond the stage of domination by polar superpowers, or ententes of great houses. The world is a chorus of national voices, in which we must build connections of culture and commerce. We cannot expect or hope to make every one our ally, but we can try to make no one our enemy!"

The crowd cheered.

Daria tried her best to enjoy her third ride in the Presidential Limo as the motorcade screamed down the highway towards Andrews.

Her prone position on the floorboards, however, left much to be desired in the way of comfort, or in aiding her aura of authority.

Dimly, the President hoped that the bum sprawled beneath a streetlight that she'd seen before the Secret Service agent had forced her head down from window-level wouldn't be the last sight she'd ever have of the capital.

"Where's my staff?" she asked, mustering up the most dignified voice she could manage, and only slightly muffled by the kevlar-lined trenchcoat she'd been half-covered with.

Without making eye contact, the head of her security detail pulled his hand from it's perch inside his jacket, and brought it up to his earpiece, whispering something indistinct. After a few moments, he replied "Si--Ma'am, as planned, VPOTUS is departing Offutt AFB with Air Force Two. SECDEF is at Mt. Weather. SECSTAT and most of the cabinet were still at the Kennedy Center, but we were moving them out to--"

"That's terrific. Is there any chance that I'll be able to talk to any of 'em without a radio?"

The agent nodded. "Yes ma'am, we're supposed to--" he cocked his head a little, the angle just right to reveal the red glow from behind his sunglasses, and keyed his radio again. "--10-20 SAWBONES..." After a moment, he nodded. "Copy that. NatSecAd Eulmeyer is waiting at Andrews--she'll be joining you on the Goose, ma'am."

Three minutes later, the limo pulled to a stop on the taxiway of Andrews Air Force Base, inside a hastily drawn defensive line of Marines, not quite a hundred yards from the Scaled Composites "Glass Goose." The very large, very ungainly aircraft had only recently gained the full-length blue "swish" and United States of America livery of the aircraft it replaced. The engines were already idling, producing an unnerving, muted warble from their deeply imbedded nacelles.

The President was hustled past a grim-looking machine gunner to the Goose's entry ramp, where an equally grim-looking pair of agents flanked a gangly, raven-headed female who was rather unabashedly giving the proceedings a jaundiced glare.

Daria dashed to the stairway, pausing to grasp the woman's hand. "Eunice! Glad you could make it!" she yelled.

The National Security Advisor glanced at her guards, before returning the President's gaze, her right eye swiveling just slower than her left. "Thank Heckle and Jekyll here, 'Dee.'" She jabbed a thumb towards the stairway. "Better get a move on--you been briefed on this malarky?"

"Have you?" Daria asked, raising an eyebrow as she made her way up the ramp. The stairway had been extended from a low point in the fuselage, and the President cleared the twelve foot length quickly.

Eulmeyer wasn't far behind. "Just up to the part where--" entering the hatchway, she lowered her voice in the relative quiet of the cabin "--Turkey got a new lakefront barbeque pit." she paused, adding, thoughtfully "I guess that means they won't be joining the EU after all, doesn't it?"

"Christ, Eunice..." The President winced, as she passed through the hatchway leading to the main corridor, returning the salute of an air force crewman in passing. "Those people aren't even smoldering yet..."

"I'm not here for platitudes, Dee." Eulmeyer hmphed in reply, "My job is to tell you that we have a fifty percent chance of getting screwed, geopolitically, over the next few hours."

"I'd think that would be outside your jurisdiction, Doctor." Daria said, as a Secret Service agent ushered her into the Presidential quarters. The front office, imposing and immaculate as it was, had a badly "unfinished" vibe about it...exemplified by the plastic dust cover sealing the office chair.

"They, lucky us, happen to intersect right now." While the President was taking her place behind the desk, Eulmeyer was on the other side of the room, back turned, fiddling with the controls of the wall-mounted TV. "Power's on...looks all hooked up..." she muttered. "...anyway, you and I both know how factional NATO and the Euros are, once you scratch the surface. This boils down to two camps; France and England. Most of the older members are more aligned with the former, and most of the 'newer' ones--like Eastern Europe, and the Balkans--are more with the latter." Satisfied with the TV, the National Security Advisor turned around, with a slight smirk. "And by 'aligned' I mean 'lapdogs to.' And by 'England' I mean 'us, via our own lapdog.' And by lapdog, I mean 'bit--'"

The President, hands clasped, nodded. "I dig, but please don't repeat that in...anywhere."

Eulmeyer shrugged. "In any case, I understand that the Euros already know about the 'superbomb.' And as we speak, the two European nuclear powers are figuring out that they've been slightly decapitated, and will shortly be tracking down, swearing in, and briefing their dauphins. It'll be race to see either which one finds out first who attacked them...and which one strikes back first."

Daria frowned. "You make it sound like they're operating in a vacuum. There's the rest of the EU, NATO--the UN for god's sake..."

Eulmeyer sighed. "Madame President, with the European Council wiped out, the EU is walking dead for some time--the Frogs and Brits are essentially operating by themselves. The UN couldn't decide to act militarily if the Martians had landed, and NATO--"

"NATO, in my estimate, at the mercy of whoever invokes Article 5 first. And if Prime Minister Belpois does that by incinerating Qom-Tehran...the French faction stands to set political and military policy in Europe for the next century."

The President felt an ominous lurch, deep in the pit of her stomach. "Eunice...is there an 'angle' you're digging at, here?"

The advisor made a slow, sagging, shrug. "Well hey...all I do is offer council. I don't write world policy..." Eulmeyer lowered her glasses, slightly, pointedly glancing at the President over the top of her frames. "...that's your job."

There was enough time for an eerie silence, just, before an air force attaché entered the office, without even a pretext of a knock.

"Ma'am!" the man said, sounding a little out of breath, "it's the red phone--we're getting a message on the hotline, ma'am!"

Daria's visage brightened a bit. She rose from her seat. "EUROCOM? Or the Brits?"

"No, ma'am," Major replied, shaking his head. "Chinese Federation. Premier Xiangdong personal--"

At that inopportune moment, the room shuddered, and pitched. An invisible giant seemed to backhand Daria back into her seat, as the dim evening light outside the cabin windows suddenly flashed with a brilliant blue flame...

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Continued in Part III