TUESDAY, OCTOBER 25, 10 A.M.: ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA. At Hinton Campaign Headquarters, preparations are under way for a press conference. Originally called for 9 a.m., it has been rescheduled for 11 a.m. because of the bad weather. On a TV monitor, staffers are watching the news. On one side of a split screen, from his helicopter, unfazed by the severely limited visibility, “Bart the Channel 4 Weatherman” is sweeping across metropolitan Washington showing the shocking pictures of the snow storm that has been blanketing the area since about 9 p.m. last night. “Cars are stranded everywhere,” he says laughing. “It’s slow going on major roads. Many back streets haven’t even been plowed. Trees and power lines are down. What a blast, folks! I feel as though I’m driving a snowmobile. It’s nowhere near winter, but we’re getting pummeled. And it looks like it’s gonna continue for several hours. I guess Mother Nature didn’t check her calendar. Don’t be crazy like me. Drive carefully. Don’t go out unless you have to. And watch out for patches of black ice. It doesn’t take much for you to lose control of your car and end up in a ditch or wrapped around a tree.”
On the other side of the monitor, there’s a picture of Cary Hinton and Bill Moreland together at last night’s debate. Under it, in the lower-third of the screen, are the question “Who won?” and numbers to which viewers may call in or text their votes. Nationwide, post-presidential-debate patter has been firing up the media since the talking heads went at it last night. Morning newspaper headlines categorically declare the winner and loser: “Hinton Scores,” “Moreland Bores,” “Cary Galls Galt,” and “Cooper Cops Out.” Predictably, morning drive-time chatter is nonstop and breaks down along partisan lines. Talk radio and TV pundits are dissecting candidates’ words more intently than a high-school English teacher diagramming a sentence. “Ham Cooper is a lily-livered traitor” were the first words out of Ross Bullman’s mouth, the self-proclaimed “voice of reason” and host of the nationally syndicated radio show of the same name. “Five of George Carlin’s ‘seven dirty words’ apply to Hinton,” he declares. “One of them rhymes with stunt. She took a cheap shot at Moreland with the Cooper-look-alike manikin.”
On “The Voice of Reason,” Harrison Paul of The Paul Poll, the “dean” of conservative opinion-sniffers, told Bullman that “the race is far from over. I’ve seen bigger margins than Hinton supposedly has after last night evaporate overnight, especially in the last two weeks before an election. One mistake, like proof that a candidate farts in public, and it could be all over, even for a frontrunner. We’re in the make-it-or-break-it phase. There’s almost no time to recover from any negatives that come out. And believe me, both campaigns will go negative, right up to the end. Get out your barf bags. It’s gonna get nastier than we’ve ever seen it.”
Since 6 a.m., Channel 4 anchors Evander Jack and Melissa Harden, hosts of the capital’s most watched morning show, have been saying how they thought that Moreland came across as nothing more than warmed-over Cooper and that, after the former prez threw him under the bus, unless he finds his groove in the next two weeks, he’s toast. They’ve reported that all the overnight polls agree that Cary Hinton was the hands-down winner—by between seven and fifteen percent—but also reveal that a surprisingly high number of likely voters is still undecided.
At 11 a.m., Evander Jack says, “Hold on Melissa, ladies and gentlemen. We’re interrupting our scheduled programming for breaking news from the Cary Hinton Campaign Headquarters.” The receptionist in the Hinton office mutes the TV. An ashen-faced Randall Griffin, Cary Hinton’s campaign manager, steps up to a sea of microphones and cameras. With him is a uniformed police officer.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Cary Hinton is missing,” he says, barely able to contain himself. There’s an audible gasp from the room. He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Last night after the debate, my last words to her were, ‘I’ll come to your room at 6:30 a.m., just to be sure you’re up and ready to leave for the airport.’ She and I, along with key field staff, were about to begin our long-planned, two-week, final campaign swing through the country. But this morning when I went to her room, I was immediately surprised when I didn’t see the rental car she was driving when she left the D.C. Convention Center last night. It crossed my mind that she might be out buying newspapers to read reviews of the debate. But she wouldn’t drive out in this weather, I reminded myself. I knocked on the door, but she didn’t answer.
“The night shift at the motel was still on. So, I then went to the front desk and asked if anyone had seen her arrive last night or leave this morning. When no one said they had, I identified myself and told them the woman registered as Lois Kent was really presidential candidate Cary Hinton. Because of security considerations, they wouldn’t give me a key to her room or even come with me and open the door. So, I had no choice but to call the Alexandria, Virginia Police Department. Police Chief Alan Porter, who’s with me now, was immediately notified and arrived on the scene, shortly after three squad cars. Once we entered Cary’s room, it was clear that she hadn’t been there last night. The bed was made and mints were on the pillow. The light on the nightstand was on. The briefcase she was carrying was nowhere to be found.
“Once Chief Porter assessed the situation, and after I notified Cary’s immediate family, he alerted the F.B.I. and the Secret Service. Because of the obvious political sensitivities of this situation, he also contacted the White House. At this time, I’d like to introduce Chief Alan Porter, who has an update for you.”
“At 11 a.m., a nationwide, all-points missing person’s bulletin was issued for Cary Hinton,” Chief Porter says. “A full-scale investigation is now under way. We consider this a matter of national security. At this time, I have no details beyond what Mr. Griffin has just told you. We will be issuing updates, but not until we have further information to report. As you can imagine, our investigation is severely hampered because of the snow storm. So please bear with us.”
“Chief, do you suspect foul play?” a reporter asks.
“At this time, we cannot rule anything out. But let me stress that I’m not saying yes or no. I don’t want anyone to jump to any conclusions. That would be dangerous and irresponsible. This is an ongoing investigation and we are taking absolutely nothing for granted. But it’s also highly politically charged—and suspicious—as you can well imagine. So, we are not going to speculate about anything—and I mean anything. We’re just after the facts. And of course, we hope there’s a simple explanation for all this and we find Cary Hinton safe and sound right away.”
“A follow-up, Chief, please. Why did you wait so long to go nationwide with the news of the disappearance?”
“By standard operating procedures, we did not wait long at all. Usually, we don’t issue an allpoints bulletin about a missing adult within twenty-four hours. For obvious reasons, this case is different, however. We first had to notify all the parties Mr. Griffin mentioned. Then, we had to map out our search-and-response plan with the District of Columbia police. They’ve got their jurisdiction. We’ve got ours. Since 7 a.m., officers on the ground have been retracing the likeliest routes Ms. Hinton might have driven back to the hotel to see if she had been involved in an accident, especially in light of the snow storm. So far, there’s no indication of that. Also, a special detachment has been interviewing people along all likely routes to see if anybody saw anything suspicious or unusual.”
“For the record, Mr. Griffin,” says a second reporter, “where were you staying at?
“The Alexandria Inn,” says Griffin. “It’s just down the street from our offices, which is why we always stay there.”
“Chief, you mentioned that you’ve notified the White House. What’s been the response?”
“So far, we haven’t heard anything from President Moreland or anyone in his administration.”
“Mr. Griffin,” a woman in the back row shouts, “were any special security measures in place? Did she have Secret Service protection? And if not, why not?”
“No, I’m sorry to say. There were no special security measures in place to protect Cary Hinton. For decades, the federal government has reduced or eliminated all security services. It has specifically refused to supply any kind of protection for candidates, even those for president—and even those who may have received death threats. And yes, to save you asking, yes, we’ve received death threats. Cary was also adamant about not having any bodyguards with her. She thought it sent the wrong message—that she was scared or that there was any reason for others to be concerned. I don’t mean to cut this short. But we’re inundated. As you can imagine, this is a troubling time for all of us. Thank you all for coming. Of course, we will update you as soon as we know anything.”
After the press conference, pandemonium engulfs the media. Virtually all TV and radio programming has been preempted. Mad-dashing reporters swarm to stake out the scene at Hinton Campaign Headquarters, the Alexandria Inn, and the Washington D.C. Convention Center. The White House press room is practically empty, however. The press corps has been alerted to a possible briefing, but no time has been given. A written statement from the press secretary has been handed out. It expresses the administration’s concern and urges everyone to remain calm and not jump to any conclusions— and to pray.
No matter, the general consensus and working hypothesis among members of the press is a doomsday scenario. On air, some commentators are speculating that Cary Hinton has been abducted and is probably already dead. It’s already being called “The Cary Kidnapping” and “The Hinton Hijacking.” This is just too coincidental, most pundits have already concluded. And the beat from the pundits goes on: Her stellar performance in the debate with Moreland made her a marked woman. She suddenly turned into a real threat to her political adversaries and she had to be disposed of. These guys play for keeps. They’ve invested too much for too long to see it all disappear because of some upstart woman who thinks she can change the world.
In the words of veteran, foreign Washington-watcher and D.C. bureau chief for Die Anschaung, Gregory von Belden, “An incident like this could rock the nation to its foundation with sweeping international implications. If foul play is responsible for the disappearance of Cary Hinton, this government will not be able to survive—and I fear for the country. It will have lost the confidence of the people and the world. There is no telling what the consequences will be, but they will be catastrophic in the long term and the short term. I don’t know what the schemers behind this plot could have been thinking. But they have overplayed their hand and it will boomerang on them. I doubt that Cary Hinton will ever be found—dead or alive. Of course, at this time, this is just my personal, gut feeling. But I have to go with it—and say what I have to say.”
1 P.M.: THE WHITE HOUSE PRESS ROOM. The room is packed, not a seat to be had. Members of the media stand lined up along the walls. The aisles are impassible; the murmur is deafening. Conversations boil over. Fingers point. Hands wave. But the room immediately falls silent as Press Secretary Fred Blastic steps up to the podium. “On behalf of the Moreland Administration,” he begins matter-of-factly, “I want to make this official statement about the circumstances and wild allegations surrounding the whereabouts of Cary Hinton.
“First of all, the Moreland Administration categorically denies any involvement in the alleged disappearance of Cary Hinton. No one, I repeat absolutely no one, in this administration has had anything to do with it or knows anything more about it than has been generally reported thus far. Like everyone else, all we know is that Cary Hinton did not return to her hotel room last night and has apparently disappeared.
“Second, we consider it unscrupulous and unethical for the media and others to suggest that we have hatched a plot to destroy a political rival. The ceaseless chatter, branding us as a bunch of lowlife thugs who would resort to such an obvious and unsophisticated tactic, must immediately be stopped. And we ask that, in the national interest, there be a voluntary halt to such idle, destructive, and politically motivated speculation. We do not wish to have to invoke the blackout provisions of the Free Speech Act.
“Third, in light of new intelligence information that we have just received, we regret to report that, at this time, we have every reason to believe that Cary Hinton has not disappeared against her will, but that her so-called disappearance has actually been engineered by her campaign. It is a cheap trick and part of a carefully orchestrated plot to discredit the Moreland Administration, right before the election. Preliminary information we’ve received would indicate that Cary Hinton has gone into hiding of her own free will—and she will reappear when she and her campaign operatives think the timing is to her advantage. This is raw politics at its worst. We strenuously condemn it. Within the hour, we expect to receive further information confirming the details of the plot, so we will update you shortly. That’s all for now.”
All at once, practically everyone in the room shouts, “What? What? What did he say?” At least half the reporters jump up, waving their hands to be recognized. But Blastic quickly withdraws from the podium, shakes his head, says, “No, no, no questions at this time,” and escapes through the side door.
The agitation in the room is palpable—heads bobbing in every direction. “What the fuck? Do these guys actually believe they’re gonna be able to get away with walking away from such an irresponsible accusation?” Gregory von Belden says out loud, shaking his head in disbelief, while trying to make his way through the exiting crowd.
3P.M.: HINTON CAMPAIGN HEADQUARTERS, ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA. Hinton campaign manager Randall Griffin makes his way through the overflow crowd to the podium in the front of the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming. I’m genuinely sorry to bring you out in this terrible weather. To those of you camped outside in your vans, I wish we could accommodate all of you in here, but we simply don’t have room, as you can see. As far as the ongoing investigation into the disappearance of Cary Hinton, I have nothing new to report. Mother Nature just doesn’t seem to want to cooperate with us. This bizarre snowstorm that doesn’t seem to want to go away is making it extremely difficult to trace the route Cary drove and to track down the flood of leads we’ve been getting. But of course, the search is under way and has been expanded nationwide from the D.C. metropolitan area. As soon as we have any news to report, we will immediately notify you.
“In the meantime, in no uncertain terms, the Hinton campaign must denounce the outrageous accusations made a couple of hours ago by White House Press Secretary Fred Blastic on behalf of the Moreland Administration. Frankly, we are shocked and dismayed by the slanderous statements, suggesting that we orchestrated Cary Hinton’s disappearance as part of some crazy strategy to win the presidency—and that we’re hiding her somewhere until it’s strategically to our advantage to bring her back. We all know how low the Cooper Administration went to carry out its schemes—and where it got them in the end.
“We had hoped Moreland would raise the bar higher. But it appears to be déjà vu all over again. This is not a time for politics, but I guess some people are so desperate to hang on to power, that they have lost all sense of honesty and decency—especially since their candidate was trounced in yesterday’s debate. Moreland pledged that things would be different after Cooper was forced out of office—and they are. They are now worse than they were and than we ever imagined they could be. To suggest in public, in the White House, before national and international journalists, a scenario so outrageous, and frankly so stupid, tells you everything you need to know about how Moreland and his people think. Cary Hinton debated Moreland brilliantly. In a single appearance, she tapped into the heart and soul of this nation. She said things people have been longing to hear, but never thought they’d hear again. Moreland mumbled, bumbled, and stumbled—and repeated the same-old same-old we’ve been hearing for decades.
“All of you know that, across the country and around the world, newspaper headlines are declaring Cary the hands-down winner of the debate. Political pundits are singing her praises. People in the street are holding spontaneous rallies and vigils for her. Social media sites are jammed with positive messages of support. That’s not the kind of response anyone in her right mind hides from. She had absolutely no reason intentionally to disappear. That would be a ludicrous strategy. As she proved last night, the more she gets ‘out there’ before the public, the better it is for her. We would have been nuts to pull a stunt like the White House is suggesting. Cary Hinton will win at the ballot box— and win big. She will be found. We will get to the bottom of her disappearance. And she will be your next president. Apparently, after two months in office our accidental president is now giddy with power and will say anything to win in November. We hope he and Mrs. Moreland didn’t unpack too many things in the White House and choose new carpet and drapes, because they won’t be there too much longer. I’ll be happy to answer a few questions.”
Reporter 1: “The Moreland campaign has just launched a new, grizzly, negative ad against Cary Hinton. It shows a menacing, baldheaded, black buzzard, with a wing span of at least six feet, soaring overhead in a lazy circle, swooping down on a dead cow’s carcass. And as soon as it lands, its head morphs into Hinton’s face and the carcass turns into a map of the CSA. At the beginning, there’s menacing, birdlike screeching, then a voice says, ‘She’ll eat you dead or alive. Cary Hinton, a menace to the CSA—and you.’ Would you care to comment?”
Griffin: “Comment? The adjective that comes to my mind for that sickening display of bad taste is disgust. When I first saw it, I couldn’t believe my eyes. In all my years in politics, I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s beyond me to think that any credible candidate, let alone the sitting president of any nation, could possibly approve such a lowlife message in his name. We considered it tasteless when it began running last week, but we wrote it off to Moreland’s desperation, even before last night’s debate. But since it continues to run, in light of Cary’s disappearance, early this morning, our campaign immediately lodged a formal complaint with the Moreland campaign. As of now, we’ve heard nothing, however. We are asking everyone to call the White House and Moreland Campaign Headquarters to express their outrage and demand that all advertising be suspended until Cary Hinton is found. We fully understand that, after Cary ate Moreland during the debate, he and his people don’t know what’s hit them. All they can think about is that when Cary wins, they see the Galtian Restoration going down the drain, after sixtyseven years—and they don’t want to be the ones to have to take the blame for it.”
Reporter 2: “This morning Chief Porter said that nothing is being ruled out in Ms. Hinton’s disappearance, even that it may be the work of international terrorists. Do you have anything more to add to that at this time?”
Griffin: “No. Believe me when I tell you that the last thing I want to find out is that anyone at home or abroad has conspired to do something unspeakable to Cary. People running for office always have to fear for their safety—and their lives. It’s just common sense. But I shudder to think what the effect on the country would be if terrorists are to blame. I’m absolutely sure there’s a simple explanation for her disappearance and she’s safe and unharmed. And I’m not about to cast suspicion on anyone. I remind you that Chief Porter has emphasized that nothing is being ruled out, but that no one should jump to any conclusions. I just wish the Moreland Administration and campaign acted with sensitivity and restraint. I have time for one more question.”
Reporter 3: “Would you please comment on the rumor that is circulating that Cary Hinton has a history of clinical depression and, on two prior occasions within the past five years, she actually dropped out of sight for several days.”
Griffin: “It is total and utter nonsense. There isn’t a shred of truth to it. It’s just another example of the desperation of the Moreland Administration to smear Cary Hinton. On that note, again thanks for being here. I’ll share any news and updates as soon as we get them.”
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 26, 10 A.M.: WASHINGTON, D.C. At about 7 p.m. last night, the snow finally stopped. Overnight, plows went to work clearing streets, the job complicated because of the abandoned cars that had to be towed, downed power lines, and splintered trees. The sky is crystal clear. The sun is bright. The temperature is already a balmy sixty degrees. Shovelers are delighted they can finally clear driveways and sidewalks, but grouse at the backbreaking challenge of heaving the heavy slush of melting snow. Putting his professional imprimatur on the obvious, “Bart the Weatherman” has declared this “the damnedest weather” he’s ever seen. “One day it’s winter; the next it’s almost summer. What is this world coming to?” he asks, crossing the line from meteorology into cosmology.
The quirky Washington weather aside, there is still no news other than Cary Hinton’s disappearance, and still no new news about that. But precisely because there are no fresh facts, speculation is rampant— and partisan. From TV and radio pundits to water-cooler gossips, there seems to be general agreement that “they,” whoever they may be, are withholding information—and that’s a bad sign. If you are anywhere in public in the Corporate States of America, or around the world for the matter, you are in danger of using up at least some of your fifteen minutes of fame by giving your reaction to Hinton’s disappearance to one of scores of roving reporters. Increasingly, the general consensus is that people are bracing for the worst. No surprise, on the website www.wherescary.com, imaginations and accusations runs wild. Comments range from “Who cares about Cary?” to “I cud uv told ya this was gonna happen” and “It’s all because of them damn imargrunts.”
In the meantime, President Moreland is getting hammered in the polls. According to the just-released Paul Poll, sixty-five percent of respondents believe Moreland definitely had something to do with Hinton’s disappearance, twenty-five percent say he may have had something to do with it, and ten percent aren’t sure. The results are even more devastating for the president in the daily Mackyasack FasTrack of likely voters: seventy-five percent say her disappearance was definitely politically motivated, twenty percent say Moreland may have had something to do with it, and a mere five percent aren’t sure. Privately, Moreland’s advisors say he’s cooked.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1 P.M.: WASHINGTON, D.C. Because of ice and frozen snow on the ground, like tightrope walkers, three men steady themselves as they approach a blue, fourdoor Ford sedan in a ditch on a forty-five degree angle behind a clump of trees on Patriot Lane, an unpaved, side road in a new residential development of Arlington, Virginia. At 11 a.m., a dedicated signal from the StarWords global communications system of the Prometheus Project was finally restored after suddenly going dead Monday night at about 11 p.m. Once the location of the vehicle was established, they rushed to the scene.
Peering in from the driver’s side window, they see the body of Cary Hinton. Her eyes are closed; she is lying back in the bucket seat like an astronaut heading into space, but isn’t moving. The air bag is inflated in front of her, as well as on the passenger’s side. They can’t tell if she’s breathing. The doors are locked. Armed with a tool kit, they try to pry the driver’s side door open with a long, flat, notched metal strip. The noise they make awakens Hinton. She opens her eyes with a start and lurches forward. “Oh, my God!” she says. “Oh, my God, you’re alive!” they shout. “She’s alive!” They ask her to unlock the door, but she appears either not to understand them or to be unable to move her left arm.
In about a minute, they pop the lock and open the door. “Are you okay?” the young, redheaded man leading the group asks.
“I think my left hand is broken,” she answers. “I don’t have any strength in it. And the airbag burned my face when it popped. Otherwise, I think I’m okay.”
“Stay still, and don’t try to move,” the redhead instructs her.
“I haven’t been able to. I’ve just been lying here waiting for someone to find me, I don’t know for how long. What took you so long? Has it been long? How long has it been?”
“Save your energy, Ms. Hinton,” the redhead says. “We’ll get you out of here in just a few minutes. Officer Wales, who came with us, is coordinating everything with Chief Porter. But, for your own safety, we can’t move you until the police rescue helicopter gets here. It’s on its way.”
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 28, 10 A.M.: BAXTER MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, WASHINGTON, D.C. Smiling for the first time in almost four days, a jubilant Randall Griffin emerges from the left side of the hospital auditorium and makes his way to the podium. “Thank you all for being here,” he says to the overflow crowd of media in the hospital auditorium. “And thank you for sticking with us since Tuesday. I know that many of you spent cold nights in vans parked outside our campaign headquarters, waiting for breaking news. As you all learned yesterday, as soon as we could confirm it, Cary Hinton is alive and—I am thrilled to report—well.
“Except for some facial burns from the airbag, a broken arm and sprained wrist, her doctors say she’s in great shape. She was a little dehydrated and very hungry, as you can imagine. She always carries a water bottle with her. So that really came in handy! She’s had a thing or two to say to those of us who kid her about needing to have her bottle. In fact, in a couple of minutes, she’ll be joining us. The doctors want her to stay in the hospital and rest for another day. But they’ve done every test imaginable, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. Her arm is in a cast and the sprain is bandaged. Otherwise, she’s back to her old self. And speaking of the devil who gave us the scare of our lives, here’s Cary, now.”
As a smiling Hinton walks confidently to the podium from behind the stage, the entire audience stands and applauds.
“How sweet it is to be here—and see all of you!” she proclaims, shaking the sling on her left hand and raising her right hand over her head in a triumphal fist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please sit. I don’t know where to begin, except to say that I’m sorry I caused everybody so much trouble. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to drive home after the debate, not cause an international incident. And I still want to go home! I’m really a good driver.
“Of course, all of you want to know what actually happened to me. So, let me tell you the little that I can remember. Monday evening, at about 10:30, I left the Convention Center after the debate in one of the two cars the campaign rented. I was alone. The rest of our team stayed behind to tie up some loose ends—like talking to the press, some of you, in fact. You all know how that goes,” she adds, rolling her eyes and laughing. “I had no idea that it had already started snowing heavily, but I didn’t think anything of it when I drove out of the garage. I’ve driven in blizzards, and I didn’t have very far to go.
“I started out on 14th Street, crossed into Virginia, got onto the George Washington Parkway, exited onto North Washington Street, turned left onto Cameron, and then I thought I saw the right turn Randall always takes, a shortcut through a new residential development. It winds up just a couple of blocks from our motel. But, by then, it was snowing very hard and the road was slippery. I suddenly lost control of the car. The next thing I knew, I guessed that it was morning because there was light coming through the snow covering the windows. But it could have been afternoon. I had no idea what time it was, though. I never wear a watch and I couldn’t start the car to check the clock. The air bag was in my face.
“I had absolutely no idea where I was. I couldn’t see out because the windows were covered with snow. The car was on an angle. I was still in my seat belt, which I undid, of course. The only pain I felt was when I tried to move my left arm or hand. I had no feeling in my left wrist. I counted the time by the light and dark coming through the snow on the windows. After what I guessed were two days, it began to melt, so I could see out. But that didn’t do me much good, because all I saw were trees. I always have a bottle of water with me—everybody laughs at me for it—but that was all the nourishment I had for (what I’ve been told was) almost two-and-a-half days. Those sips never tasted so good. Lucky for me, I had two bottles with me and I know how to pace myself. That’s where I was until I was rescued yesterday. And it’s all I know about what happened. I’ll be happy to answer a few questions.”
“Welcome back, Cary,” a smiling young woman reporter says. “It’s great to see you doing so well! Please comment on the charge by the Moreland Administration that you and your campaign staged your disappearance to get publicity and voter sympathy.”
“Take a look at me. Do I look like something staged? All I can say is, poor Bill. That tells you everything you need to know about Moreland and how unfit he is to be president. It’s just another outrageous, illogical, bizarre statement to come out of the White House. It’s what I expected from Ham Cooper, but hoped Moreland wouldn’t stoop to. His campaign is doomed—and he knows it. So, he’ll say anything and everything to smear me. I won the debate Monday night. Why would I intentionally go into hiding?”
“Do you feel that foul play might have been involved in your accident?” a second reporter asks. “Were you being followed? Did you feel any force being applied to push your car off the road, say from another vehicle?”
“I’m sorry, but I really can’t say. It all happened so fast. I think they call it hydroplaning. I felt as though my car suddenly picked itself up, slid off the ground and barreled ahead. I felt as though something was pushing me from behind, but I can’t say for sure. It all happened so fast,I didn’t have time to look in the rear view mirror.”
Griffin steps forward: “Sorry to interrupt, Cary, but I’ve just had a text message from Alexandria Police Chief Porter. Since the police towed the car Cary was driving to their forensics lab, they’ve been going over it looking for clues. At the moment, they can’t rule anything out— or in—as a cause of the accident. But they are assessing what appears to be damage to the back bumper to determine if any force that could have caused hydroplaning might have been applied there. We’ve got time for one more question. As you can see, Cary’s doing great. But the doctors want her to rest today.”
“What’s next, Cary?” an older, gray haired man calls out.
“Starting bright and early tomorrow, we hit the campaign trail. There’s nothing holding us back! We’re gonna win this election. We’re gonna take this country back. But expect the Moreland camp to get downright dirty until Election Day. As the expression goes, ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.’ But let me assure you, we’re ready for them.”
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 10:30 P.M.: ELECTION DAY. By all accounts, war broke out in the days after the rescue of Cary Hinton, as almost every political pundit predicted. Two hours after she was found, Moreland addressed the nation from the Oval Office. Desperate because of his declining poll numbers after their debate, he denied that he or anyone in his campaign had anything to do with Hinton’s disappearance and accused her “peeple” (as he called them) of “malicious, unfounded, mealymouthed” slander and keeping that rumor alive. “Why didn’t she want security,” he said, “unless it was so she could get away with staging her own disappearance?” When asked if he seriously thought her plan would have included driving into a ditch and having her car buried in snow, breaking her arm, spraining her wrist, and lying helplessly in a cold car for days, he answered that Hinton was a “snake,” and he wouldn’t put anything past her.
Meanwhile, day after day, reports of dirty tricks from the Moreland campaign—all of them denied—grabbed the headlines. Routinely, likely Hinton voters who requested absentee ballots were sent return envelopes that went to bogus addresses—and were promptly thrown in the trash. Voters were warned not to vote online because there were reports that systems had been hacked so all Hinton votes were switched to Moreland or automatically canceled, without voters’ being sent an error message. There were death threats against Hinton organizers and Hinton herself.
Moreland volunteers passing themselves off as members of nonpartisan get-out-the-vote organizations canvassed neighborhoods. They identified likely Hinton voters and signed them up for rides to the polls, but no one ever showed up on Election Day. Phones to polling places and election offices were jammed, so people having ballot problems or difficulty proving they were eligible to vote were never able to get their issues resolved.
In a relentless barrage of negative TV ads, Moreland threw the book at Hinton. Each one opened with blaring trumpets, a picture of John Galt with a dollar sign superimposed on it, and a stentorian voice declaring, “Keep John Galt Alive. Don’t let the Hinton hoax destroy Free-for-All economics!” After that, each one heaped a different set of smears on her. One alleged that she was born a man, Conrad Heppenstahl, in East Germany, but underwent a sex change operation ten years ago, and so, being foreign-born, is disqualified from being president. As Heppenstahl, a committed communist and socialist for most of his/her life, Hinton was said to have made routine visits to Cuba to plan deals with powerful comrades before infiltrating the CSA as the woman he/she is today. The ad also alleges that Heppenstahl/Hinton’s parents were Nazis, an obvious explanation for Moreland’s claim that Hinton is antiSemitic and antiIsrael.
Other ads picture Hinton in black face, lip-syncing Al Jolson singing “Mammy,” and accusing her of making assorted, subliminal, “coded,” racist remarks. Yet another says she will propose legislation to limit families to no more than two children and require forced abortions, vasectomies, tubal ligations, and sterilizations to achieve population goals determined by the state. Yet another accuses Hinton of wanting Spanish and Chinese declared the official language of the country, so, in the words of the voiceover, “all them furners can take over the CSofA.”
Hinton runs a single ad. As the music of “This Land Is Your Land” plays in the background, she stands in front of a panorama that dissolves into pictures of Americans of both sexes, differing ages, races, and ethnic backgrounds, which alternate with scenes from across the country—from the Statue of Liberty to the skyline of Chicago, the Mississippi River, midWest wheat fields, the bayous of Louisiana, the Grand Canyon, the Rockies, and the Golden Gate Bridge. She simply says, “I am Cary Hinton. I am running for president of this great country. I pledge to be president of all of you and for all of you. Please vote for me on Tuesday, November 8th. Beauty is truth, truth beauty.”
On the ground, for weeks, the Prometheus Project launched a nationwide mobilization of the residents of Coopervilles. Volunteers fanned out to register voters. Today, at 4 a.m. local time across the country, tens of thousands of men and women poured out of the camps and scoured neighborhoods urging people to vote and helping them get to the polls. A special contingency trained in the martial arts surrounded polling places to keep voters from being intimidated by thugs hired by the Moreland campaign. Others saw to it that voters whose registrations were frivolously challenged were able to vote.
Minutes ago, at 10:30 p.m. Eastern Time, with the polls already closed for thirty minutes or more on the West Coast, all TV networks called the election for Cary Hinton by a margin of twenty-five percent, one of the biggest landslides in history. At the Washington Convention Center, where Hinton supporters are gathered, Randall Griffin walks to the podium and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, President-elect Cary Hinton.”
To thunderous applause, she emerges from stage left and walks to the podium.
“Thank you, all of you,” she says, putting both hands to her lips and blowing kisses to the audience. “As of this moment, President Moreland refuses to concede…” She is interrupted by boos. “No, no, even if he never man-ups, his fire has gone out. Together, we have accomplished what looked to many like the impossible. We have sent a message around this great nation and throughout the world that a government ‘of the people, by the people, and for the people’ will never die, as long as there is a spark of life in even one person that can light the fire of freedom in others. It is now up to all of us to preserve, protect, and defend our hard-won victory. It will not be easy. We shall face resistance from those who may continue to see us as their opponents. But I want everyone to know that I pledge to work for a strong, just, and prosperous nation—for all. Beauty is truth, truth beauty. Thank you, and good night!”