by John M. Carlson
“This week marks both an end and a beginning,” President Connors said. He paused, and smiled to himself. This was a nice touch in his speech. He could imagine the great presidents saying something like this. Not that he was a great president. He wasn’t, and he knew he wasn’t. But he’d made good use of his position for his personal gain, and that was all he cared about.
“This week my presidency ends,” President Connors said. “Meanwhile, the Moon Base will open. Today we live on the moon, and tomorrow we will explore planets far away!
“I am pleased to announce that President-elect Ames and Congress have asked me to continue my career in public service on the Moon Base.” Of course, they had no choice. They knew he wanted to move to the Moon Base, and they also knew he’d end their careers if they didn’t do what he wanted them to do.
Indeed, when he’d started packing for his move, the first thing he’d packed was evidence that could destroy the careers of almost every politician in DC, and even put many of them into prison. That evidence would be useful in case he needed to persuade someone on earth to do something once he was established on the Moon Base.
The Moon Base impressed Connors even after he’d been living there a month. It was a large and comfortable place to live. Almost like living on a cruise ship, except there was no deck. Eventually it would be self-sufficient, thanks to large greenhouses, which would be good if earth got wiped out from climate change or nuclear war.
The Moon Base was the biggest achievement of his entire political career.
He sipped a glass of champagne, and thought about a decade before. At that time, earth was becoming less and less livable, thanks to climate change. (Which he’d been partly responsible for, given the policies he’d supported during his career. But, unlike big polluting corporations, planet earth didn’t make big campaign donations.) Other problems, like the chances of a big war, were getting worse, too. It would be nice to escape earth and all of its problems.
One night, he was thinking about old science fiction movies about space travel. Inspiration hit, and he came up with the idea of building the Moon Base. It was hardly a new idea, but he thought it might be finally possible with the technology and political climate of the era. He’d get it built by the US, selling it on the grounds of “science” and “a step into space—the last unexplored frontier!” Then, after the Moon Base was built, he’d move there before earth became totally unlivable.
Connors glanced at the clock on his walnut desk. It was about time for the news. He picked up the remote, and turned the TV on.
“A major storm system is headed towards California,” the news announcer said. “It is expected to be the most devastating storm in history.”
I’m glad I retired here, and not back home in California! Connors thought, as he poured himself another glass of champagne.