Daniel O’Neill and the Future Generator
Daniel O’Neill walked out of the office and onto the streets of DC for an impromptu “Mental Health” day. He was getting too old for a steady diet of 16 hour days. On top of that, signs and reminders that our country was going straight to hell in a hurry were everywhere. The only way to fix those problems was to get the libtards and their asshole leader out of power. The president was not just un-American, he was anti-American.
But there would be no relief from politics on the streets of DC in December, eleven months before the next presidential election.
Daniel ended up at the Outer Limits Convention. He was looking for lunch when he spotted the advertising sign over the entrance to the Convention Center. He decided to go in and check out the offerings. Politics and the Holidays could be left on the street.
The crowd was large and lively even on a Wednesday morning. He stopped at the food court before plunging into the chaos. The show occupied three floors. The first floor was taken up by a registration desk and the food court, along with booths where hawkers displayed their wares. The variety was overwhelming – gaming hardware and software, books, DVDs, costumes, and accessories.
An elaborate globe on display at an idle booth caught Daniel’s attention. The twenty-something saleswoman was watching him. She was smiling, almost laughing; slender; olive skin; black hair, and captivating eyes. Her name tag said Doolchay.
Daniel wandered over to the booth. He focused on the globe because he didn’t want to be too obvious about his interest in the woman. Her charm was palpable. He could not name her perfume but he couldn’t ignore it either.
“How much?” He asked.
“Five Thousand.”
He flinched. “That’s a lot for a globe.”
“It’s a Future Generator.”
“How does that work?”
“You make a request. The Future Generator makes it happen.” Her voice was flat but her smile was direct and enticing.
“Humph. The old genie in a bottle,” Daniel said.
A broad grin spread across Doolchay’s face. “You should buy it. It was made for you.”
“How so?”
She winked. “It just is.”
Daniel’s nose crinkled. He shook his head. “It’s just a globe.”
“But you are thinking what if it was my globe.”
The globe was 15 inches in diameter. Mountains, rivers and other topographic features were depicted in three dimensions. The polar ice caps looked realistic. When Daniel put a hand on the globe, it tilted and rotated easily on its chrome stand. It was made of some polymer that gave it a smooth, sturdy feel. He picked it up for a closer look. It was surprisingly heavy.
She said, “The magic happens when you rub your hand across your country.”
Daniel casually rubbed his hand across North America. Nothing happened. He shrugged and returned the globe to its stand.
“I have to initialize it before it will respond to your touch.” There was a hint of a laugh in Doolchay’s voice.
Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Okay.”
“I need your credit card with 5k available.”
He scowled at her. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“You were born 63 years ago. You’re a techie and you’re intrigued,” she replied.
Daniel eyed the woman. Those were good guesses but not astounding. He was developing a bulge around his middle. He was practically bald and his face showed the effects of a difficult life. With his thick-rimmed brown glasses, white shirt, and maroon tie, he was obviously a techie.
He was intrigued. That is where she had him.
“Look I don’t want to cheat you,” Doolchay pleaded. “I want you to have this toy and enjoy it. I can let you have it for 2 thousand but I can’t give it away.”
He bit his lip and stared at the globe.
“Give me your credit card and I’ll give you a demo. If you aren’t satisfied, you walk away and I keep my globe even though it was made especially for you.”
He picked up the globe and examined it again. “No thanks.”
“You really should see the demo.”
“Not for 2 thousand.”
She smiled enticingly. “Come on. Even if I tried to rip you off, which I won’t, you could always cancel the transaction.”
He pursed his lips while he spun the globe in his hands. Finally, he set the globe down and produced a VISA card. She slid his card through the card reader on the counter and punched in the amount. When the transaction was Okayed, she pulled a small cube from her pocket. She pressed and the cube chirped. “Try it now.”
Daniel rubbed his hand over North America. A six inch high 3-D hologram popped up just above the globe. A man in an easy chair dominated the display. He wore a black outfit and sported a goatee and handlebar mustache. He spoke in a deep, cultured baritone.“Welcome, Daniel O’Neill. You have been recognized. We are about to become very good friends.”
The cube beeped again. The hologram disappeared.
Doolchay said, “As soon as we complete the transaction, I will turn your globe on so that it cannot be turned off.”
A few minutes later, Daniel walked away with his new toy. Doolchay called after him, “Have a great Christmas.”
He turned and grinned maliciously. “What if I cancel the transaction?”
She laughed. “You won’t. Which is good.” She continued in a sinister voice, “You would not want to find out about my other toys.”
As soon as Daniel got home, he placed his globe on a table in the living room near the other Christmas presents. After his wife had gone to bed, he poured himself a double shot of Jim Beam Devil’s Cut Kentucky Straight Bourbon. He sat and sipped as he imagined the future. It was glorious. But doubt crept into his mind. How in the hell can that thing generate the future?
There was only one way to find out. He poured another double shot and threw it down. He swept his hand from California to DC. The Hologram materialized just above the globe. “Good evening, Daniel.”
Daniel stammered, “I have a request.”
“Before we get started, there are some things that Doolchay probably did not discuss with you,” the voice from the hologram said.
“Such as…”
“I can only honor three requests.”
Daniel asked, “Can you tell me your name? Or would that count as one of my requests?”
“You can call me Nick. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier.”
“What else did Doolchay forget to mention, Nick?”
“Once we agree on a future that I am to generate, we cannot go back and undo the changes.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he studied Nick. “I can’t change my mind?”
“Once I have put the future development in motion, I cannot stop it. So no, you cannot change your mind after we have reached an agreement.”
“I want President Brown impeached.”
“That is not a good request. Hilda McLean would be elected and sworn in before that scenario could play out.”
“Nick, we have to get that clown out of office. He is ruining this great country.”
“If you want to request that President Brown be removed from office, that future could be generated, Daniel.”
“Do it!”
“Before I agree, let me point out that his successor would be Vice President Bidwell. He would probably follow President Brown’s lead as much as possible. He might even find himself in a position to win the upcoming presidential election.”
Daniel pressed his hands to his forehead. “No. No. No.” He shook his head.“Bidwell cannot be president.”
“But if he did become president,” Nick suggested in a conspiratorial voice. “He could be removed from office and Representative Peter Reynolds would take over the presidency.”
Daniel stared wide-eyed at Nick. “Remove both of them from office?”
“That would require two separate requests but I believe it would produce the outcome you are looking for.”
“What about McLean? She is the one person who would make a worse president than Brown.”
“Anyone who takes over as president in the near future will be well positioned to win the upcoming elections. You should trust the process unless there is somebody you would like to see elected president.”
“All the candidates are clowns. I don’t know who would make a great president.”
“What about you?”
“I would be an improvement over Brown. But I don’t want the job.”
Daniel poured himself another round of Bourbon. He sipped the fiery liquor as he considered his options. “You’re right, Nick. I need to trust the process. Get Brown and Bidwell out of there.”
“Arrange for President Antwon Brown to be removed from office. Is that your request, Daniel?”
“Yes. Him and Bidwell, too.”
“As I said, a separate request is required if you want President Bidwell removed from office.”
“Alright, make that my second request. Get Bidwell out of there.”
“Arrange for President John Bidwell to be removed from office. Is that what you want Daniel?”
“He isn’t president,” Daniel said testily.
“He will be as a consequence of your first request.”
“Okay. Remove President Bidwell from office.”
Daniel’s heart was pounding. He was breathing heavily. He poured another glass of bourbon. He sipped as he paced around the room pausing occasionally to study photographs of his wife and Dan Jr. Nick’s gaze followed him as he moved about the room.
He returned to the table where the hologram with Nick hovered above the Future Generator. He stood there toying with a half-empty glass of bourbon then said, “There is one more thing that must be taken care of.”
“What is that, Daniel?”
“The Caliphate.”
“That is a most difficult problem, Daniel. I do not see any good solutions.”
“All we need is a Commander-In-Chief with some balls to send in an army with orders to clean house.”
“Isn’t that what George Oilman did?” Nick asked.
“And we kicked ass.”
“With all due respect, nothing substantial was accomplished,” Nick countered. “The most important result seems to have been the emergence of The Caliphate.”
“You can’t blame The Caliphate on Oilman,” Daniel retorted.
“Not entirely. But he ignored history. The Semites have ruled that part of the earth for thousands of years. Their great kingdoms dominated the region long before Islam or Christianity or even the Jews. They have survived every challenge from god and man.”
Daniel lifted his bourbon glass and emptied it in a single gulp. His eyes narrowed. His mouth curled into a sneer. “Are you saying you can’t get rid of The Caliphate?”
“No. I am saying that it would take something extraordinary.”
“More extraordinary than an American army and its allies?”
Nick was stern almost threatening. “Much more. And the consequences would also be extraordinary.”
“How extraordinary?”
“Like nothing that has occurred since the emergence of modern man, Daniel.”
Daniel poured another drink and took a large swig. Fuck the consequences.
“Wipe out The Caliphate, Nick. We have to get rid of those dirty, murdering, bastards.”
“You are requesting that I arrange an absolute end to The Caliphate?”
“I am.”
Nick said somberly, “I suggest you take time to think about this request. Perhaps there is a less drastic solution.”
“Wipe out The Caliphate, Nick.”
“I will arrange for the end of The Caliphate. That is your third and final request.”
The hologram disappeared. Daniel stood there stunned. He began to believe that he had set in motion events that would solve important problems.
He lay on the couch to calm down and fell asleep. When he awoke, the sun had risen and his wife Marie was shaking him. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m more than okay.”
“You finished half a bottle of bourbon last night.”
“I needed it to help me think.”
“About what?”
“I have been solving the world’s problems.”
Ten days passed with no sign that the future had been affected in any way. Daniel O’Neill’s confidence ebbed. He had been taken in by that woman and her phony future generating globe. On the morning of the eleventh day, news that the president’s plane had exploded over the Atlantic hit the airwaves. All on board were presumed dead.
Daniel had to shut off the news. Along with endless speculation about the cause of the crash and possible terrorism came endless praise for Brown and his accomplishments as president. It was just too much.
John Edward Bidwell was sworn in as president of the United States shortly after noon.
Daniel and Marie ate a quiet dinner that evening.
A knock at the door startled them. Daniel’s blood ran cold. Unexpected visitors at this time of night could not be bringing good news.
Two airmen in dress uniform were at the door. “Mr. Daniel Joseph O’Neill?”
“Yes, I am Daniel O’Neill,” he replied.
“I regret to inform you that your son died in the line of duty this morning.”
Daniel’s mouth dropped open. He felt his knees buckling. Marie arrived at his side just in time to hear the bad news. She grabbed her husband’s arm to keep from collapsing.
Daniel could feel himself choking up. He struggled to hold off the tears. “What happened?”
“He was piloting the president’s plane when it went down over the Atlantic. Search crews have been at the scene most of the day. They have not found any sign of the plane, the passengers or the crew. All are presumed dead.”
Daniel felt his wife clutching his arm and sobbing with her face buried in his chest. He thanked the airmen and shut the door. Uncontrollable rage burned in his chest. “That bastard. It wasn’t bad enough that he ruined the country. He had to get my son killed. I will never forgive him.”
Daniel turned to his wife, the bereaved mother of Major Daniel Joseph O’Neill, Junior. He led her to the couch in the living room. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
He returned with two shot glasses filled from the bottle of Jim Beam Devil’s Cut Kentucky Straight Bourbon. They sat and sipped in silence. Her head lay against his chest. His arm encircled her shoulder. His eyes were fixed on the globe.
When she had finished the whiskey she went into the bedroom to lie on their bed.
He waited for a while to be sure that she was asleep before reaching over and rubbing his hand across North America from DC to LA. The hologram took shape. “Good evening, Daniel.”
“No, Nick, it isn’t”
“Daniel, President Brown has been removed from office.” Nick sounded hurt.
“And my son is dead,” Daniel growled.
“He died doing his job, didn’t he?”
“There are other pilots. Why my son?”
“Someone’s son had to die. Why not yours?”
“That wasn’t part of my request,” Daniel snapped.
“It wasn’t excluded,” Nick objected. “You paid a price to get what you wanted most in the world.”
The conversation went on for some time but got nowhere. Daniel was angry. Nick was unsympathetic.
Marie woke Daniel in the morning. He could not recall how the conversation with Nick had ended.
The next few days dragged on. Daniel was unable to go to work. He and Marie arranged a memorial for DJ. She got a call from Fox News, where she worked as a stringer. They wanted her to interview President Bidwell in the Oval Office. Arrangements had already been made. She agreed. She needed to get away from her husband and their house for a little while.
Two days later, Marie O’Neill was ushered into the Oval Office where the president was sitting at his desk. He came forward to greet her and led her to a pair of chairs arranged so that the two of them could talk in cordial intimacy.
He offered his condolences for her son. She thanked him and began steering the conversation toward the actual interview. The door burst open. A man with a pistol charged in. Bidwell stood to confront him. The man shot him four times. He shot Marie twice. He stuck the gun in his own mouth and pulled the trigger.
The Fox News camera crew captured it all.
Daniel O’Neill was nursing a glass of Jim Beam when the phone rang. Dread seized his body again. “Hello?”
“Daniel O’Neill?”
“Yes?”
“Your wife’s been shot and is in the hospital. She may not make it.”
His shot glass hit the floor. On the way to the hospital, he heard a news announcement about a shooting in the Oval Office. President Bidwell was dead at the scene. The gunman was dead from a self-inflicted wound. A reporter had also been shot and was clinging to life.
By the time Daniel reached the hospital, Marie had already been pronounced dead.
Peter Paul Reynolds was sworn in as president of the United States shortly after noon.
That night Daniel sat staring at the globe for a long time. He felt an urgent need to find out what was in the works for The Caliphate. He wanted to know what price would be extracted from him personally.
He gave North America a small, half-hearted rub. Nick materialized.
“Good evening, Daniel”
“It’s not and you know it,”
“It was best for her, Daniel. Her heart and her spirit were broken by your son’s death.”
“Which was a sadistic little twist you threw in to make us suffer.”
“Please, Daniel,” Nick objected. “Suffering is part and parcel of human life.”
“Are you human?”
“Of course not. I’m an avatar.”
“Who’s avatar?” Daniel asked wearily.
“Doolchay’s.”
Daniel gasped, “Doolchay’s?”
“She is not like you. She is immortal.”
Daniel took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He sighed, “What is the next part of your plan?”
“A meteor is heading toward earth,” Nick answered.
“A meteor? That’s it?”
“Do you know what happened to the dinosaurs, Daniel?”
“Most people think a meteor killed them off.”
“That is correct, Daniel. One meteor.”
“And what is this going to cost me?”
“I do not know exactly what is going to happen but it will be spectacular.”
Undoing legislation pushed by Brown but strongly repugnant to conservatives was the first order of business for the new president. He began issuing executive orders and called on Congress to produce the necessary legislation immediately.
There was wide praise for his actions. However, he spent much of his time on the phone with governors from 38 states whose budgets were premised on Brown’s initiatives and the associated federal funding. He also heard from Senators and Congressmen whose irate constituents supported Brown and his initiatives.
President Reynolds wanted charges filed against his archrival Hilda McLean for security violations. He had to fire the Attorney General. He fired more senior Justice Department lawyers before he found one who would run the department properly.
President Reynolds was under pressure to address The Caliphate and the Middle East. He ordered development of plans for an expedited deployment of 500,000 military personnel to the Middle East. Pushback from the UN, Russia, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Turkey, and even NATO allies forced him to scale back. Eventually, he brokered a deal for a multi-national force under UN auspices. The plan allowed him to order deployment of 200,000 troops to support operations against the Caliphate.
Under President Reynolds’ focused leadership, the UN Deployment Force was formed in a period of three weeks. Troops were being put in positions to form a net around The Caliphate. The noose would be tightened until The Caliphate had been strangled.
Warnings about a large meteor on a collision course with earth were becoming more urgent. Most scientists had concluded that ground zero would be somewhere on the Arabian Peninsula. Skeptics insisted that the rock would miss earth by thousands of miles.
Two months after President Reynolds took office, a meteor the size of a luxury liner crashed to earth at Ramadi, Al Anbar, Iraq. It hit with the force of a thousand hydrogen bombs. The impact crater was so big that the Mediterranean Sea, the Red Sea, the Caspian Sea, and the Persian Gulf were fused into a single body of water. Earthquakes reduced cities from Tel Aviv to Teheran to rubble. As the earthquakes propagated outwards, tremors damaged cities and transportation infrastructure throughout the world.
The Caliphate was destroyed. The UN Deployment force went down with it.
Darkness covered the earth.
Daniel O’Neill sat on his couch in a drunken stupor for a long time. Finally, he brushed his hand across North America.
“Hello, Daniel. Wasn’t that spectacular?”
“You bastard,” Daniel answered.
“Cheer up, Daniel.”
“I requested that you end The Caliphate. You killed us all.”
“Humanity is not finished, Daniel. The dinosaurs lasted 100,000 years after the meteor strike.”