Policy director

"I think I can do it," you tell her. She walks up to the door, & knocks twice on it. Her guards enter again, but you all immediately leave, & she leads you into an elevator. Before long, you have both entered the Oval Office.

President Davis shakes your hand. Her grip is firm & warm, no doubt well-practiced during her term presiding over the battered remnants of half of the country.

"Not only were you a speech writer, Mr. Doe; You were the President's chief policy analyst, & the de facto chair of the 'kitchen cabinet,' his unofficial advisers," President Davis says. "And as policy director, you delivered many of the President's policy speeches to groups whose support he needed."

You nod. "Yes, Ms. President," you say, sitting straighter.

"I understand Meredith has filled you in on just how touch-&-go things are in the Western U.S.," she says. "People have turned in on themselves. They hoard, & many of them turn away refugees & strangers. At a time like this, we can use someone who can project a hopeful vision of the future. To remind us of the principles of our nation. To get people pulling together."

"Yes, ma'am," you say.

"There's a second part to the job," she says. "In times like these, broadcasts & teleconferences don't mean as much to people. They want to see you in person, so I have to be on the road half the time. I have to keep 'showing the flag' to the governors, the regional military commanders, & even the post office, for the love of God. Otherwise, people sit on their asses, hoping someone else will budge first & do the work."

The lines in her face seem more heavily drawn. She takes a breath. "So when you're at the Western White House, you'll be writing speeches & attending policy meetings. Jollying up the timid apes who are in charge of things these days. The second part of your job, the less-official but perhaps more-important one, is to be my advance man," she says. "Sure, you'll be giving some policy speeches to folks in Bend, or Bishop, or Wenatchee. But you'll also be out there to find out the lay of the land. What people are really worried about. What people won't say to my face, but would say over a drink, or after a party, to someone charming & understanding. A lot of people are **** for a little sympathy," she says. "Especially the women who've ended-up running things they never imagined they would."

Is President Davis talking about herself? you wonder. Her voice & demeanor give no hint of it.

She looks you in the eye, & says, "I'd like you to take the next few weeks as an extended interview for the job... Both parts. Cram your head with our current situation, so you'll be ready to talk sense on policy & vision. Use your perception & charm on my staff & the hangers-on here as if you were preparing for me to visit. Then, tell me what you find out."

You take a deep breath. "I take it I should start right away?", you ask.

"Things are tight, but you need time to decompress," President Davis says. "You've been in solitary on **** Row for 7 years. Take 10 days." She stands, & gazes out the window. "I understand you had a house in Hawaii," she says.

"I did," you say.

"It's probably still in fine shape," she says. "Hawaii is a Japanese protectorate with an American military governor. You might even be able to visit. Anyway, talk to Meredith. Get lost somewhere for 10 days, or maybe 2 weeks. Then, come back, & join my team as Senior Policy Adviser. If you can't resist getting to work right away, I suppose we can arrange to send along an intern with something that passes for a briefing book. Any questions?"

"Too many," you say. "They'll pretty much keep until I've caught-up more."

"Very good," the President says, smiling for the first time since you've seen her.

You stand. "Just one question, really," you say. "Why me? A policy analyst?"

"Miranda said I could trust you," President Davis says.

"Miranda?"

"Yes, Mr. Doe; My wife, Miranda Biddle Hengewaring. It would not be wrong to say you owe your freedom to her."

You sway on your feet, & sit back down. President Davis & VP Hengewaring's wife -- your old lover -- were now married lesbian partners?

"I can see..." you swallow. "I can see I have a lot to catch-up with, President Davis," you say.

A tap comes on the door. "Open," President Davis says.

The door opens to Miranda, holding a tray with cookies, & a steaming pot of something hot. Seven years have been **** to her than to President Davis. She's wearing a low-hemmed, long-sleeved, high-necked dress... A maternity dress. She looks about 7 months pregnant, & radiant with it. She sets the tray down on a side table that looks like it's seen a lot of use.

"You've met my wife, of course," President Davis says.

You summon a professional gloss around your manner, & rise to greet her. "Ms. Hengewaring," you say.

Miranda smiles, a crooked shadow of her old mischievous grin. "I'm happy to see we got you out in 1 piece, John," she says. "You'll have to work on that face. It looks like if you moved a muscle, it would crack into a thousand pieces."

Tiny twinges pull at the corners of your eyes, & warm moisture threatens to overflow. You feign a coughing fit so you can raise a handkerchief to your face, & dab quickly at your eyes. You take a deep breath, & meet Miranda's gaze again, calmer.

"I understand I owe my life & freedom to your intercession," you say. "You have my eternal gratitude."

"You're here because we need you," she says.

Something twists inside your chest, but you hope nothing shows. "I'll do my best," you say.

"That's the spirit," says President Davis. She walks you to the door. "Now get lost & come back tanned, rested, & ready to be my spokesman... And my hunter."

You find yourself standing in the hall outside the President's office, feeling bewildered. Just before the door closes, you see President Davis take Miranda in her arms, & kiss her.

At the sound of the closing door, Meredith rises from a folding chair where she was waiting for you.

"President Davis said I should take 10 days or a couple of weeks vacation," you say. "And I should ask you about arranging it. And she said maybe we could get an intern to help brief me about the situation."

Meredith looks thoughtful. "All right," she says. "I can probably brief you on the current situation myself, but it might be useful to have someone to help with the background, if we can find someone. So about the vacation, Mr. Doe. Do you like mountains? Seashore? Desert? We should be able to get priority transport..."