Scenes from a Preternatural Presidency -- 7. Terms and Conditions Apply (B)
He wasn’t so happy, but I moved on too, to the anti-dam-demolition candidates, who also needed a lesson in economics because the cost of hydropower was actually down, while gigawatts were up and so, with more smaller turbines, was employment. The point of geothermal was to retire fossil fuel and limit wind-turbines, and the dams were evils in themselves, not things we wanted to keep if we could. They had ignored salmon, with all other effects on river systems of backing them up, and one at least was so resentful at Second People being excluded from the Sacred Space he actually said he’d gladly see it drowned again. That gave my eyes some gold, and I thought regretfully about thunderbolts while I told him in a very flat voice that he should be very careful not to find himself alone with any First Person any time soon.
“Sacred means sacred, sir, and you should wash your blasphemous mouth out with soap and water. And as for you” - as the idiot flushed and the crowd laughed I turned to the dull billionaire, who’d waved the ‘government ownership is flagrant commie socialism’ flag ever harder as he’d found he had no support - “I’m already cross enough with inanities that I’ll let Skuffles take point on this one. Maxi-me ?”
Inanities is right. The Federal Government has always been involved in some power-supply, because dams tend to flood federal land, and if it builds power plants there is no reason for other people to get the profits when they could lower costs and taxes. And beyond that basic sense, tell me, sir, how do you propose to negotiate your smash-and-grab raid on the federal government with the manitous ?
He blinked. “The manitous ? What have they to do with it ?”
You ask that but accept it’s a smash-and-grab raid ? There was laughter, and Skuffles turned it up. And what have great manitous to do with the new geothermal plants ? D’oh. Let me count the ways. The crowd laughed again and the dull billionaire flushed. They are essential to creating them, as even you must know, and they have done a great deal of major magical work to open the shafts, hundreds of thousands of feet of them by now. You propose to steal their work so you can sell it to others. Do you not think they might have something to say about that ? Teatime ?
Even a merely ten-foot smilodon has a seriously fangy yawn, displayed as Teatime sat up.
I’m not sure I’m big enough to eat him as Medicine Wolf did that transgressor, Skuffles, but I’m sure Medicine Cub East and I could manage half each. But perhaps a clear warning is enough for now. Medicine Cub ?
I thought Coyote was going to have to revise his opinions about smilodons and humour, which would be entertaining, and in the meantime merely ten-foot dire wolves have decent teeth too.
Skuffles is quite right. We great manitous do not mind helping the federal government to be greener, because with She Doesn’t Only Fix Cars as your Paramount Chief we are assured the benefits to all are maximised, but that does not mean we are passive. We will defend our work as we must, and were you to succeed in being elected, which happily seems exceedingly unlikely, you would find it very tricky indeed to be a president who could not afford ever to set foot in any of the Mississippi, Colorado, and Columbia Basins.
Ol’ Manitou River laughed, a great huff of mindvoice.
True, my friend, and another pleasing benefit of our collaboration. The mindvoice became stern as he addressed the billionaire. You not only seek a personal profit, which we understand, you seek it assuming human authority to steal from us, and heedless of our and the planet’s need. What She Doesn’t Only Fix Cars saw was the chance to foreclose rapidly on your destructive use of fossil fuels, with many side-benefits to many kinds, as well as much long-term strategic advantage. Well and good. What you saw was a way to benefit only yourself, with many costs to many kinds about which you care nothing.
Teatime added a growl. Yes. You are in yourself koyaanisquatsi, a way of life that cries out to be changed. We strongly suggest you do something about that, soon.
Mini-manitous sat down again, and Skuffles dropped her jaw in a grin.
Which takes care of that. Next ?
The rest of my rivals were even less interesting or plausible, and Skuffles and I alternated in pointing out basic economic, political, or magical problems with what they wanted, or seemed to want, before the moderators invited them to their second, ninety-second slot to restate their cases, which was painfully dull except for the billionaire, who was looking quite gray and sensibly withdrew his candidacy, and the Silliest Gun-Nut, who still wasn’t clear on the relationship between Executive Orders, federal law, and the Constitution and once again got himself chopped off by the moderators. Then it was over except that I took back my two minutes, and with a smile at the moderators noted that if I overran a bit it wasn’t now disadvantaging anyone else so I hoped they’d feel more lenient.
“So, my fellow Americans, I hope it’s not boasting to say it seems probable I’ll be keeping my job” - I waited out the laughter - “but there is something you all need to know before polling day, however Adam and I would be keeping it to ourselves for a while yet if it weren’t for the election. I didn’t bring it up earlier because it’s not up for debate, nor will I be taking questions, but if you do all decide to re-elect me next month there’ll be a spell next year when Vice-President Lafferty will have to be on the job, because I shall be taking maternity leave.” I leaned into a suddenly deep silence. “Adam and I had spoken of children before I was first elected, I turn 39 in a few weeks, and you’ll understand that after I had to use that thunderbolt to keep us all alive we didn’t altogether feel like waiting another four years. Also, Manannán’s Bane being at all times round and about me, I am carrying twins.” And wasn’t that going to be a blast, but I needed to get the rest out before the crowd got noisy and held up the stick as it preened. “It’s very pleased with itself, so please all add to your electoral calculations that this time round I am the first pregnant presidential candidate, and if re-elected would a while thereafter become the first president in labour, while our children would be the first born in the White house since Esther Cleveland in 1893, the first to a serving president, and the only twins. To date, anyway. How exactly it’ll work once reasonable maternity and paternity leave is up, we’ll work out when we get there, but I expect we’ll spend even more time in Kennewick and less in DC, though you’ll appreciate that we shan’t lack for wolf baby-sitters.” Which was an understatement, and reminded me of a question. “Any which way, people, now you know, which as voting citizens is your right. I’m willing to do the job, though if that happens I shall be very glad to stop in four years’ time, because it is not an easy burden, but with a first term served, all campaign promises kept, and things by and large progressing smoothly, I’m not willing to put my life and Adam’s on hold any longer. Your call. And my two minutes are up. Be safe and well, everyone.”
The cheering was as heartening as it was deafening, and Adam and Jesse had to join me for a long moment before I got Skuffles to thank the moderators and (almost keeping the irony out of her mindvoice) my staring rivals, and after some promiscuous handshaking we got ourselves offstage. There was a wait while my assorted entourage reassembled, and we found ourselves being hugged and congratulated by a very happy Jude and Leslie, who whispered in my ear.
“Way to go, Mercy. Paris ?”
“Might have had something to do with it, yeah.”
“Classy. And twins ! Do you know … ?”
“Nope, neither gender, type, or species. I’m quite looking forward to Bran’s and Coyote’s best guesses.”
Her eyes went wide. “Species ? Lordy lawks.”
“Yeah, you could say. And you can imagine what the White House medicos had to say. Assuming, I’ll probably wind up hiding from them in Kennewick, and the one big downside is that I can’t go coyote for another seven months plus, which will make me very grumpy. And if I get hormonal, you have my permission as well as Adam’s to sit on me as hard as necessary.”
She laughed, joy returning to her eyes. “We’ll deal. Your food cravings ought to be interesting.”
“There’s that.”
There were more hugs and intensely curious congratulations from the pack. Those from the Freed were also strong, though Ramona and the women had a wistfulness for their own lost fecundities, while Tom Yearman was also genuinely happy for us, on top of truly amused by most of the debate, and already thinking through what the effect would be on wolves. He was glad to know Bran was already aware, as Charles and Anna had been, and with some caveats I promised at least one genuine alpha conference call, pointing out for the first of many times that on all known facts the chance of born werewolves was nil without two wolf parents and my paternal inheritance was way more likely to come through, though given all my other blended magics almost anything was possible. Then we could finally head back to Air Force One, where a host of Benny’s miracle pies made me feel mellower, even if they were reheated, and I finally managed to catch up with Reverend Jenkins, whose congratulations and felicitations were also warm.
“So, Reverend, within the Anglican Communion, do godparents have to be Anglican themselves, and is there any upper limit to the number of godparents a child can have ?”
She didn’t even blink. “No, Ms President, they don’t and there isn’t. Practicing Christians are certainly recommended, but we are a broad church. And three is normal, four by no means unknown.”
“Dozens ?”
This time she did. “Um … no limit is no limit, but … you feel high numbers necessary ?”
“I think our kids are going to need all the dedicated adult protection they can get, Reverend, mostly to fend off insane preternatural curiosity, and doubly so if they turn out identical rather than fraternal. Werewolf times avatar is new on everyone. It may depend on how clear a sense I have of whatever their magical inheritance amounts to, but if we’re still guessing come christening time, which is more likely than not, both Adam and I will have a strong urge to cover the bases.”
“Preternatural godparents ?”
“I hope so, Reverend. Wouldn’t you have liked as a child to have Irpa as a godmother ?”
I left her unsure if she was more amused or appalled, and enjoyed some beautifully courteous congratulations from the Wrights, both thrilled for me and for Adam in a way that reminded me of exactly why I liked them so much, while Jed overcame his blushes to offer both felicitations and thanks for the Longwoods and dragons, of which he said he and his friends greatly approved. By the time I was back in more private space with family and close friends there were media reports for me to scan, showing some expected kneejerk alarm about a pregnant woman holding nuclear codes, some wryer reflections on presidential maternity leave and its legal aspects, considerably altered by the ERA I’d seen passed as the 30th Amendment, and a kinder understanding of my personal calculus than I’d expected despite some rather intrusive speculations about Manannán’s Bane. I knew from Jill that I would not hit menopause for millennia yet, if ever, but by human standards 39 was not young for a primigravida, and 43 a quantifiably greater risk, while most commentators wryly understood why the assassination attempt might have triggered a decision. No-one except Leslie, and I assumed Jude, knew that having to tatami-mat both a US and a Chinese aircraft carrier had played any part in anything, and that was as it should be, though the pure depth of Adam’s amusement at what life had made possible was a boon I still felt in my heart, and had felt all the way to my toes.
The next few days did see some sourer grapes and more inanity from smarting rivals, but there was also a groundswell of delighted congratulation with so many personal messages that I had my staff set up an autoreply that offered thanks with apologies for impersonality, x million and whatever emails having already been received. A match programme Andrea had set up picked out eddresses of my registered ten-buck voters from last time and substituted a somewhat fuller thanks with a renewed request to vote and make sure all registered family and friends did so too, thanks for their diligence on democracy’s behalf, and an additional titbit in my due date, which was mid-June. Amid it all I bagged an early night with Adam, who knew perfectly well from Christie’s pregnancy with Jesse that the condition often ignited desire, but still felt very potently a protective alpha mode that badly wanted to swathe me yards deep in velvet and bubblewrap. After dealing with his reluctances, which was fun, we managed a much less stressed conversation about what restrictions and how much hovering I could and couldn’t reasonably accept, either from him or from the fascinated White House medics, and I pushed it on to how much he really fancied becoming an alpha emeritus. The bigger problem was safely delegating responsibilities within his business, but what he actually wanted was to be freer to do more for me, for Bran, and for wolves in general.
“I don’t want to be without a pack or to cede to another alpha, love, but with the two of us and Darryl and Warren as legates our wolves have got used to dealing with what they’ve taken to calling the duty alpha, when one is needed - and it’s interesting that one mostly hasn’t been. They’re pretty happy wolves, no-one wants to let you down, and though I didn’t expect it the Freed have actually been a boon in easing … dynamics, I suppose.” He grinned at me. “No-one wants to take me on anyway, but knowing Ramona doesn’t like any trouble is a further deterrent, and the deep calmness the Freed have with all their submissives is becoming a model to emulate, for a wonder.” We thought about that one, feeling the ironies. “So I feel making the Alpha Emeritus official for both of us and letting Darryl have formal status as Alpha would be right, for us and the pack.”
“Have you talked to Warren ?”
“Yes. He doesn’t want Alpha while he’s a state senator, which he is enjoying far more than he expected, and probably not anyway. I doubt our wolves would object, now, but some others would.”
“Un huh. So where does that leave us for the next four years, assuming ?”
“More able to be away from Kennewick if we need, including full moons, which would ease travel schedules if you feel the need to do some more foreign jaunting.”
I sighed. “Which, if, I probably should.”
“I don’t think there’s much if, love, and yeah, you should. If China keeps up the greening a state visit should be doable now, and frankly, if there are places you want to see I think you should use Air Force One while you have it.”
“Huh. Temptations, temptations. I had been wondering about a southern hemisphere swing with some built-in sight-seeing - Africa, Australasia, and South America - but then dragons came up, and Paris, and June will arrive soon enough. Who knows, love ? Let’s see what it looks like in December, and what cabinet I’ll have in January.”
“You’re expecting resignations ?”
“Not particularly, but the Fed chair is due to change.”
“Right. I knew that. But December it is. And being freer of Kennewick at need will be good when you can dump it all on Frank - we could be one heck of a power-couple on anyone’s circuit.”
I looked at him dubiously. “Sure we could, if we wanted to. But why would we ?”
“Fun, money, going on pushing where it’s needed, stirring up trouble so you can whack it. Any number of reasons.” He kissed me. “Mercy, your magical power isn’t going to go away when you stop being president, nor your desire to change the world to suit yourself and everyone better.”
I sighed again. “Probably not, no. Oh well. I’ll cross that bridge as and when. Ditto nursing twins while in presidential office.”
That one came up with the brasher media too, with the moods of pregnancy, but by then I was feeling more bullish and pointed out that gestating and lactation were abilities, not disabilities, and if I was liable to be hormonal it would be sensible for the media to be wary of irritating me.
“All else aside, my disreputable Da is already into step-paternity with Jesse, and delighted to become a genetic grandparent for the first time in a century and some, so if you do annoy me I’ll probably put him on your case.”
Oddly, the next question was on a completely different topic, and in general the media were actually better than I’d feared, commending me for honesty and having fun with the mandated legalities of presidential maternity leave, which would shift if I were to need any anaesthesia. Frank was mostly over his consternation and to Andrea’s amusement Rachel half-suspected me of engineering a dry-run to tempt him to succeed me, but as I told them both that was entirely a side-benefit. So was an unimpeachable public excuse to do even less campaigning by cloak, compensated for with some longer TV interviews that Caroline and Penny did from Kennewick, though I allowed myself a few trips to help newbie preternatural candidates - wolves and half-fae, with a Hopi avatar of Bobcat’s who was involved with Koyaanisquat and though water reform would be much easier without a particular state senator in Arizona, which it would. There were also one or two remnants of the former main parties I was very willing to campaign against, and while I still didn’t do attack ads I didn’t mind asking honest questions about their attendance and voting records, than which the citizens they nominally represented clearly deserved better.
November arrived, and the half-week before polling day saw me tied up in DC with a long list of things potentially outgoing presidents should do whatever their lead in any polls, including a clear summary of what their successors ought to take promptly in hand which was useful as a stock-take and reminded me of several things that had slid while I was distracted by dragons and whatever. Having rectified some of that, on the Monday I headed happily back to Kennewick, and took out the small change in cooking properly for the first time in several weeks. I went Middle Eastern, with a houmous starter on bread hot from the oven and a Moroccan chicken, raisin, and apricot tagine that was a new recipe on me and turned out very nicely, though I say so myself. It was only Adam, Jesse, and me, all of us feeling that tomorrow would be quite crowded enough, and we lingered a little at the table, reflecting and making plans. Jesse would be graduating in the summer, and was undecided about postgrad work but had some good questions about what I would or wouldn’t be able to allow if she did go for a masters or doctoral research topic on top-down governmental integration of preternatural abilities and powers.
“Still at Georgetown U., Jesse ?”
“Probably, Mom. In lots of ways a move would be good, but there’s no programme on the preternatural more advanced plus I already know the professors who’d be supervising, and so do you and Dad.” She shrugged. “Plus security. But I think I could write something with solid data that would be … useful for people to understand.”
“I bet. No way round formal legal advice on this one, and it’ll depend on what data you want. Any clues ?”
“Permission to interview, mostly - Mr and Mrs Lafferty, your cabinet members and agency heads, the ED and SSAC, governors, state legislators.” She waggled hands. “Maybe also people like Chief Munday and Buffalo Soldier - I don’t want only the very top national layers. It’s not secrets, Mom, just candour about how you’ve made it all work, with some sideways, but the data has to be verifiable.”
“Yeah, I get that. Sounds workable enough, Jesse, if this is what you want. Jenna and Sally ?”
“Oh yeah. There it’s client confidentiality, but they don’t mind asking the clients if they’re willing to give me an interview.” Her eyes glinted. “I’d think most would be curious, and built-in commentary from Gwyn ap Lugh, the Marrok, nine manitous, and China ought to impress examiners.”
Adam and I both laughed, and he cocked his head.
“Right about that, Jesse. But you don’t want to join Jenna and Sally direct ? Once you’ve graduated I can’t see why you shouldn’t.”
She waggled a hand. “We’ve talked about it a bit, Dad, but they aren’t interested in postgrad and consensus is it’d be better for me to do that if I want and join in four years, if that’s still what we want. As a research student I can ask Mom in a way I couldn’t as a commercial enquirer.”
Adam was good with that and we both liked the way Jesse was thinking things through down different paths. The research also sounded every bit as useful as she thought, if doubtless embarrassing for me, and conversation wandered again, down memory lane a little until a late brief told me a volcano had made a very big bang in the Pacific, giving some islands a bad time with the resulting tsunami and cutting various undersea cables, so I authorised all possible USN humanitarian and technical aid as needed, once again diverting a carrier group, before heading gratefully up to bed.
Last time around we’d wound up watching the election results at Benny’s in Richland, but this time Benny’s came to us via his two new mobile miracle-suppliers. His Richland eat-in place had been hitting the limits of oven capacity, and while there was room for more outside tables in good weather there was none for more kitchen. A Freed working there had suggested that if he converted one of the many one-trailer semis for sale and rejigged the staff parking lot, it could both give more oven capacity at home and a mobile capacity for festivals, private hire, and whatever. Liking the idea and the extra employment, Ramona had involved Zee as a consultant and he’d wound up doing the conversions at my otherwise little-used garage, with the superior results you’d expect. Both mobiles had a logo declaring Benny’s a preferred supplier of pies to the Western White House, and at Sacajawea SP they were set up with one counter facing the public and the other the secure area behind the stage to fulfil that promise. Presidents also get dedicated pizza service, and quite right too.
After my brief, including Pacific updates about the scale of the damage to cables, though fortunately not so many people, the morning was straightforward enough if absurdly crowded. Lots of folk prefer early postal voting but I like doing the deed in person and on paper, a preference the Tri-Cities had noted with interest, and the line was long. People excited to greet me offered to let me cut in line but I told them I wouldn’t dream of it, and with circling, jumpy agents and hopping reporters all round we spent close to forty minutes shuffling along and chatting. Jesse took up much media slack, bless her, telling them solemnly that you bet she was looking forward to her first presidential vote and having carefully set all emotional issues aside had found the decision a howling no-brainer, even before what she called the undebate. I opened a second front by adding that while I understood that this time round a lot of people with far more wit and ability than any declared rival had decided it wasn’t worth running, because they didn’t think they could win and objected to the cost of trying, next time was going to be more open, however I thought and hoped that Frank would be the clear favourite. Unless the main-party rumps could pull themselves together in decently updated fashion - which was looking more and more moot - we needed a less costly means of deciding the presidency.
“Sacred means sacred, sir, and you should wash your blasphemous mouth out with soap and water. And as for you” - as the idiot flushed and the crowd laughed I turned to the dull billionaire, who’d waved the ‘government ownership is flagrant commie socialism’ flag ever harder as he’d found he had no support - “I’m already cross enough with inanities that I’ll let Skuffles take point on this one. Maxi-me ?”
Inanities is right. The Federal Government has always been involved in some power-supply, because dams tend to flood federal land, and if it builds power plants there is no reason for other people to get the profits when they could lower costs and taxes. And beyond that basic sense, tell me, sir, how do you propose to negotiate your smash-and-grab raid on the federal government with the manitous ?
He blinked. “The manitous ? What have they to do with it ?”
You ask that but accept it’s a smash-and-grab raid ? There was laughter, and Skuffles turned it up. And what have great manitous to do with the new geothermal plants ? D’oh. Let me count the ways. The crowd laughed again and the dull billionaire flushed. They are essential to creating them, as even you must know, and they have done a great deal of major magical work to open the shafts, hundreds of thousands of feet of them by now. You propose to steal their work so you can sell it to others. Do you not think they might have something to say about that ? Teatime ?
Even a merely ten-foot smilodon has a seriously fangy yawn, displayed as Teatime sat up.
I’m not sure I’m big enough to eat him as Medicine Wolf did that transgressor, Skuffles, but I’m sure Medicine Cub East and I could manage half each. But perhaps a clear warning is enough for now. Medicine Cub ?
I thought Coyote was going to have to revise his opinions about smilodons and humour, which would be entertaining, and in the meantime merely ten-foot dire wolves have decent teeth too.
Skuffles is quite right. We great manitous do not mind helping the federal government to be greener, because with She Doesn’t Only Fix Cars as your Paramount Chief we are assured the benefits to all are maximised, but that does not mean we are passive. We will defend our work as we must, and were you to succeed in being elected, which happily seems exceedingly unlikely, you would find it very tricky indeed to be a president who could not afford ever to set foot in any of the Mississippi, Colorado, and Columbia Basins.
Ol’ Manitou River laughed, a great huff of mindvoice.
True, my friend, and another pleasing benefit of our collaboration. The mindvoice became stern as he addressed the billionaire. You not only seek a personal profit, which we understand, you seek it assuming human authority to steal from us, and heedless of our and the planet’s need. What She Doesn’t Only Fix Cars saw was the chance to foreclose rapidly on your destructive use of fossil fuels, with many side-benefits to many kinds, as well as much long-term strategic advantage. Well and good. What you saw was a way to benefit only yourself, with many costs to many kinds about which you care nothing.
Teatime added a growl. Yes. You are in yourself koyaanisquatsi, a way of life that cries out to be changed. We strongly suggest you do something about that, soon.
Mini-manitous sat down again, and Skuffles dropped her jaw in a grin.
Which takes care of that. Next ?
The rest of my rivals were even less interesting or plausible, and Skuffles and I alternated in pointing out basic economic, political, or magical problems with what they wanted, or seemed to want, before the moderators invited them to their second, ninety-second slot to restate their cases, which was painfully dull except for the billionaire, who was looking quite gray and sensibly withdrew his candidacy, and the Silliest Gun-Nut, who still wasn’t clear on the relationship between Executive Orders, federal law, and the Constitution and once again got himself chopped off by the moderators. Then it was over except that I took back my two minutes, and with a smile at the moderators noted that if I overran a bit it wasn’t now disadvantaging anyone else so I hoped they’d feel more lenient.
“So, my fellow Americans, I hope it’s not boasting to say it seems probable I’ll be keeping my job” - I waited out the laughter - “but there is something you all need to know before polling day, however Adam and I would be keeping it to ourselves for a while yet if it weren’t for the election. I didn’t bring it up earlier because it’s not up for debate, nor will I be taking questions, but if you do all decide to re-elect me next month there’ll be a spell next year when Vice-President Lafferty will have to be on the job, because I shall be taking maternity leave.” I leaned into a suddenly deep silence. “Adam and I had spoken of children before I was first elected, I turn 39 in a few weeks, and you’ll understand that after I had to use that thunderbolt to keep us all alive we didn’t altogether feel like waiting another four years. Also, Manannán’s Bane being at all times round and about me, I am carrying twins.” And wasn’t that going to be a blast, but I needed to get the rest out before the crowd got noisy and held up the stick as it preened. “It’s very pleased with itself, so please all add to your electoral calculations that this time round I am the first pregnant presidential candidate, and if re-elected would a while thereafter become the first president in labour, while our children would be the first born in the White house since Esther Cleveland in 1893, the first to a serving president, and the only twins. To date, anyway. How exactly it’ll work once reasonable maternity and paternity leave is up, we’ll work out when we get there, but I expect we’ll spend even more time in Kennewick and less in DC, though you’ll appreciate that we shan’t lack for wolf baby-sitters.” Which was an understatement, and reminded me of a question. “Any which way, people, now you know, which as voting citizens is your right. I’m willing to do the job, though if that happens I shall be very glad to stop in four years’ time, because it is not an easy burden, but with a first term served, all campaign promises kept, and things by and large progressing smoothly, I’m not willing to put my life and Adam’s on hold any longer. Your call. And my two minutes are up. Be safe and well, everyone.”
The cheering was as heartening as it was deafening, and Adam and Jesse had to join me for a long moment before I got Skuffles to thank the moderators and (almost keeping the irony out of her mindvoice) my staring rivals, and after some promiscuous handshaking we got ourselves offstage. There was a wait while my assorted entourage reassembled, and we found ourselves being hugged and congratulated by a very happy Jude and Leslie, who whispered in my ear.
“Way to go, Mercy. Paris ?”
“Might have had something to do with it, yeah.”
“Classy. And twins ! Do you know … ?”
“Nope, neither gender, type, or species. I’m quite looking forward to Bran’s and Coyote’s best guesses.”
Her eyes went wide. “Species ? Lordy lawks.”
“Yeah, you could say. And you can imagine what the White House medicos had to say. Assuming, I’ll probably wind up hiding from them in Kennewick, and the one big downside is that I can’t go coyote for another seven months plus, which will make me very grumpy. And if I get hormonal, you have my permission as well as Adam’s to sit on me as hard as necessary.”
She laughed, joy returning to her eyes. “We’ll deal. Your food cravings ought to be interesting.”
“There’s that.”
There were more hugs and intensely curious congratulations from the pack. Those from the Freed were also strong, though Ramona and the women had a wistfulness for their own lost fecundities, while Tom Yearman was also genuinely happy for us, on top of truly amused by most of the debate, and already thinking through what the effect would be on wolves. He was glad to know Bran was already aware, as Charles and Anna had been, and with some caveats I promised at least one genuine alpha conference call, pointing out for the first of many times that on all known facts the chance of born werewolves was nil without two wolf parents and my paternal inheritance was way more likely to come through, though given all my other blended magics almost anything was possible. Then we could finally head back to Air Force One, where a host of Benny’s miracle pies made me feel mellower, even if they were reheated, and I finally managed to catch up with Reverend Jenkins, whose congratulations and felicitations were also warm.
“So, Reverend, within the Anglican Communion, do godparents have to be Anglican themselves, and is there any upper limit to the number of godparents a child can have ?”
She didn’t even blink. “No, Ms President, they don’t and there isn’t. Practicing Christians are certainly recommended, but we are a broad church. And three is normal, four by no means unknown.”
“Dozens ?”
This time she did. “Um … no limit is no limit, but … you feel high numbers necessary ?”
“I think our kids are going to need all the dedicated adult protection they can get, Reverend, mostly to fend off insane preternatural curiosity, and doubly so if they turn out identical rather than fraternal. Werewolf times avatar is new on everyone. It may depend on how clear a sense I have of whatever their magical inheritance amounts to, but if we’re still guessing come christening time, which is more likely than not, both Adam and I will have a strong urge to cover the bases.”
“Preternatural godparents ?”
“I hope so, Reverend. Wouldn’t you have liked as a child to have Irpa as a godmother ?”
I left her unsure if she was more amused or appalled, and enjoyed some beautifully courteous congratulations from the Wrights, both thrilled for me and for Adam in a way that reminded me of exactly why I liked them so much, while Jed overcame his blushes to offer both felicitations and thanks for the Longwoods and dragons, of which he said he and his friends greatly approved. By the time I was back in more private space with family and close friends there were media reports for me to scan, showing some expected kneejerk alarm about a pregnant woman holding nuclear codes, some wryer reflections on presidential maternity leave and its legal aspects, considerably altered by the ERA I’d seen passed as the 30th Amendment, and a kinder understanding of my personal calculus than I’d expected despite some rather intrusive speculations about Manannán’s Bane. I knew from Jill that I would not hit menopause for millennia yet, if ever, but by human standards 39 was not young for a primigravida, and 43 a quantifiably greater risk, while most commentators wryly understood why the assassination attempt might have triggered a decision. No-one except Leslie, and I assumed Jude, knew that having to tatami-mat both a US and a Chinese aircraft carrier had played any part in anything, and that was as it should be, though the pure depth of Adam’s amusement at what life had made possible was a boon I still felt in my heart, and had felt all the way to my toes.
The next few days did see some sourer grapes and more inanity from smarting rivals, but there was also a groundswell of delighted congratulation with so many personal messages that I had my staff set up an autoreply that offered thanks with apologies for impersonality, x million and whatever emails having already been received. A match programme Andrea had set up picked out eddresses of my registered ten-buck voters from last time and substituted a somewhat fuller thanks with a renewed request to vote and make sure all registered family and friends did so too, thanks for their diligence on democracy’s behalf, and an additional titbit in my due date, which was mid-June. Amid it all I bagged an early night with Adam, who knew perfectly well from Christie’s pregnancy with Jesse that the condition often ignited desire, but still felt very potently a protective alpha mode that badly wanted to swathe me yards deep in velvet and bubblewrap. After dealing with his reluctances, which was fun, we managed a much less stressed conversation about what restrictions and how much hovering I could and couldn’t reasonably accept, either from him or from the fascinated White House medics, and I pushed it on to how much he really fancied becoming an alpha emeritus. The bigger problem was safely delegating responsibilities within his business, but what he actually wanted was to be freer to do more for me, for Bran, and for wolves in general.
“I don’t want to be without a pack or to cede to another alpha, love, but with the two of us and Darryl and Warren as legates our wolves have got used to dealing with what they’ve taken to calling the duty alpha, when one is needed - and it’s interesting that one mostly hasn’t been. They’re pretty happy wolves, no-one wants to let you down, and though I didn’t expect it the Freed have actually been a boon in easing … dynamics, I suppose.” He grinned at me. “No-one wants to take me on anyway, but knowing Ramona doesn’t like any trouble is a further deterrent, and the deep calmness the Freed have with all their submissives is becoming a model to emulate, for a wonder.” We thought about that one, feeling the ironies. “So I feel making the Alpha Emeritus official for both of us and letting Darryl have formal status as Alpha would be right, for us and the pack.”
“Have you talked to Warren ?”
“Yes. He doesn’t want Alpha while he’s a state senator, which he is enjoying far more than he expected, and probably not anyway. I doubt our wolves would object, now, but some others would.”
“Un huh. So where does that leave us for the next four years, assuming ?”
“More able to be away from Kennewick if we need, including full moons, which would ease travel schedules if you feel the need to do some more foreign jaunting.”
I sighed. “Which, if, I probably should.”
“I don’t think there’s much if, love, and yeah, you should. If China keeps up the greening a state visit should be doable now, and frankly, if there are places you want to see I think you should use Air Force One while you have it.”
“Huh. Temptations, temptations. I had been wondering about a southern hemisphere swing with some built-in sight-seeing - Africa, Australasia, and South America - but then dragons came up, and Paris, and June will arrive soon enough. Who knows, love ? Let’s see what it looks like in December, and what cabinet I’ll have in January.”
“You’re expecting resignations ?”
“Not particularly, but the Fed chair is due to change.”
“Right. I knew that. But December it is. And being freer of Kennewick at need will be good when you can dump it all on Frank - we could be one heck of a power-couple on anyone’s circuit.”
I looked at him dubiously. “Sure we could, if we wanted to. But why would we ?”
“Fun, money, going on pushing where it’s needed, stirring up trouble so you can whack it. Any number of reasons.” He kissed me. “Mercy, your magical power isn’t going to go away when you stop being president, nor your desire to change the world to suit yourself and everyone better.”
I sighed again. “Probably not, no. Oh well. I’ll cross that bridge as and when. Ditto nursing twins while in presidential office.”
That one came up with the brasher media too, with the moods of pregnancy, but by then I was feeling more bullish and pointed out that gestating and lactation were abilities, not disabilities, and if I was liable to be hormonal it would be sensible for the media to be wary of irritating me.
“All else aside, my disreputable Da is already into step-paternity with Jesse, and delighted to become a genetic grandparent for the first time in a century and some, so if you do annoy me I’ll probably put him on your case.”
Oddly, the next question was on a completely different topic, and in general the media were actually better than I’d feared, commending me for honesty and having fun with the mandated legalities of presidential maternity leave, which would shift if I were to need any anaesthesia. Frank was mostly over his consternation and to Andrea’s amusement Rachel half-suspected me of engineering a dry-run to tempt him to succeed me, but as I told them both that was entirely a side-benefit. So was an unimpeachable public excuse to do even less campaigning by cloak, compensated for with some longer TV interviews that Caroline and Penny did from Kennewick, though I allowed myself a few trips to help newbie preternatural candidates - wolves and half-fae, with a Hopi avatar of Bobcat’s who was involved with Koyaanisquat and though water reform would be much easier without a particular state senator in Arizona, which it would. There were also one or two remnants of the former main parties I was very willing to campaign against, and while I still didn’t do attack ads I didn’t mind asking honest questions about their attendance and voting records, than which the citizens they nominally represented clearly deserved better.
November arrived, and the half-week before polling day saw me tied up in DC with a long list of things potentially outgoing presidents should do whatever their lead in any polls, including a clear summary of what their successors ought to take promptly in hand which was useful as a stock-take and reminded me of several things that had slid while I was distracted by dragons and whatever. Having rectified some of that, on the Monday I headed happily back to Kennewick, and took out the small change in cooking properly for the first time in several weeks. I went Middle Eastern, with a houmous starter on bread hot from the oven and a Moroccan chicken, raisin, and apricot tagine that was a new recipe on me and turned out very nicely, though I say so myself. It was only Adam, Jesse, and me, all of us feeling that tomorrow would be quite crowded enough, and we lingered a little at the table, reflecting and making plans. Jesse would be graduating in the summer, and was undecided about postgrad work but had some good questions about what I would or wouldn’t be able to allow if she did go for a masters or doctoral research topic on top-down governmental integration of preternatural abilities and powers.
“Still at Georgetown U., Jesse ?”
“Probably, Mom. In lots of ways a move would be good, but there’s no programme on the preternatural more advanced plus I already know the professors who’d be supervising, and so do you and Dad.” She shrugged. “Plus security. But I think I could write something with solid data that would be … useful for people to understand.”
“I bet. No way round formal legal advice on this one, and it’ll depend on what data you want. Any clues ?”
“Permission to interview, mostly - Mr and Mrs Lafferty, your cabinet members and agency heads, the ED and SSAC, governors, state legislators.” She waggled hands. “Maybe also people like Chief Munday and Buffalo Soldier - I don’t want only the very top national layers. It’s not secrets, Mom, just candour about how you’ve made it all work, with some sideways, but the data has to be verifiable.”
“Yeah, I get that. Sounds workable enough, Jesse, if this is what you want. Jenna and Sally ?”
“Oh yeah. There it’s client confidentiality, but they don’t mind asking the clients if they’re willing to give me an interview.” Her eyes glinted. “I’d think most would be curious, and built-in commentary from Gwyn ap Lugh, the Marrok, nine manitous, and China ought to impress examiners.”
Adam and I both laughed, and he cocked his head.
“Right about that, Jesse. But you don’t want to join Jenna and Sally direct ? Once you’ve graduated I can’t see why you shouldn’t.”
She waggled a hand. “We’ve talked about it a bit, Dad, but they aren’t interested in postgrad and consensus is it’d be better for me to do that if I want and join in four years, if that’s still what we want. As a research student I can ask Mom in a way I couldn’t as a commercial enquirer.”
Adam was good with that and we both liked the way Jesse was thinking things through down different paths. The research also sounded every bit as useful as she thought, if doubtless embarrassing for me, and conversation wandered again, down memory lane a little until a late brief told me a volcano had made a very big bang in the Pacific, giving some islands a bad time with the resulting tsunami and cutting various undersea cables, so I authorised all possible USN humanitarian and technical aid as needed, once again diverting a carrier group, before heading gratefully up to bed.
Last time around we’d wound up watching the election results at Benny’s in Richland, but this time Benny’s came to us via his two new mobile miracle-suppliers. His Richland eat-in place had been hitting the limits of oven capacity, and while there was room for more outside tables in good weather there was none for more kitchen. A Freed working there had suggested that if he converted one of the many one-trailer semis for sale and rejigged the staff parking lot, it could both give more oven capacity at home and a mobile capacity for festivals, private hire, and whatever. Liking the idea and the extra employment, Ramona had involved Zee as a consultant and he’d wound up doing the conversions at my otherwise little-used garage, with the superior results you’d expect. Both mobiles had a logo declaring Benny’s a preferred supplier of pies to the Western White House, and at Sacajawea SP they were set up with one counter facing the public and the other the secure area behind the stage to fulfil that promise. Presidents also get dedicated pizza service, and quite right too.
After my brief, including Pacific updates about the scale of the damage to cables, though fortunately not so many people, the morning was straightforward enough if absurdly crowded. Lots of folk prefer early postal voting but I like doing the deed in person and on paper, a preference the Tri-Cities had noted with interest, and the line was long. People excited to greet me offered to let me cut in line but I told them I wouldn’t dream of it, and with circling, jumpy agents and hopping reporters all round we spent close to forty minutes shuffling along and chatting. Jesse took up much media slack, bless her, telling them solemnly that you bet she was looking forward to her first presidential vote and having carefully set all emotional issues aside had found the decision a howling no-brainer, even before what she called the undebate. I opened a second front by adding that while I understood that this time round a lot of people with far more wit and ability than any declared rival had decided it wasn’t worth running, because they didn’t think they could win and objected to the cost of trying, next time was going to be more open, however I thought and hoped that Frank would be the clear favourite. Unless the main-party rumps could pull themselves together in decently updated fashion - which was looking more and more moot - we needed a less costly means of deciding the presidency.