First Contact (25 page)

Assessing the improbability of Ralph’s fate similarly depends on several key premises. For example, if we know the President, the cabinet, and all of Congress gathered in the same place under threat of nuclear war, and that the food in that place was not to the President’s liking, then Ralph’s ascendancy seems less implausible
than it otherwise might. Furthermore, if we know in advance the undersecretary of commerce has a severe allergy to peanuts and a raccoon lives in his house—instead of these facts being tacked on in such a slapdash manner—then it seems less implausible still. If we know I made the whole thing up, the coincidence seems mundane. This would also be true if we again began from the premise of an omnipotent, predetermining God.

On the other hand, shifting even just a few of these core presumptions can make the scenario seem improbable. For example, if we presume the universe is shrinking at a rapid pace, far more rapidly than anyone has ever imagined, and thus if a twenty-four-year-old were ever going to become president of the United States it would have to happen in the next two years if it were ever going to happen at all, because after that time everyone in the universe will be fused together into a tiny singularity, then the whole thing seems like a fantastic long shot.

L
IFE RETURNED TO NORMAL
after the destruction of Greek Island II more quickly than one might imagine. After a few weeks, the citizens elected a new Congress. Many people did not notice the absence of the old one. Few people had heard of White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia, or the Greenbrier resort. This gave the events a kitschy, surreal quality. Still, the incident created a moment. People understood that the President and the United States had acted arrogantly, squandering an invaluable, historic opportunity. This created political possibility.

Ralph nominated Clarabella Moleman to be vice president. It was time to have a strong advocate for children in the White House, he argued. The new Senate confirmed her unanimously. With mixed feelings, Clarabella resigned the presidency of the East Madison PTA and accepted the position. For the reception following her
inauguration, Vice President Moleman baked and served her hand-made brownies. Their superior quality and moistness made her an immediate hit with the new Congress and the press.

At Ralph’s urging, Congress passed a comprehensive energy program. The revenue from a new gasoline tax paid for wind farms, home solar panels, and underground repositories for carbon dioxide emissions. A luxury tax on low-fuel-efficiency cars bonded the purchase of large chunks of the Amazon rain forest.

Congress funded a new orbital space station, which served a dual mission. It scanned for alien life while broadcasting a message of peace to the universe. It also housed a new astrolab, which studied advanced questions in physics, including quantification of the rate of expansion of the universe.

In memory of Henry Moleman, the shortest-tenured president in history, Congress guaranteed to every American child health care, a college education, and, at President Bailey’s strong urging, a stuffed animal. This was, so to speak, his pet project.

T
HIS RESEMBLES MY OWN
legislative agenda, a coincidence for which I offer no apologies. That Ralph feels a persistent sense of duty is integral to the themes of the book, though the people and causes he feels a sense of obligation toward is of no particular significance. Nevertheless, one cannot underestimate the significance of milieu to a story. Though it would have no bearing on the plot, I expect you would feel quite differently about this book if instead of favoring a cleaner environment, universal health care, and the proliferation of stuffed animals, Ralph favored logging in national forests, tax breaks for the wealthy, and the stockpiling of nuclear weapons.

A
BROAD
, R
ALPH REPAIRED
A
MERICA’S
damaged relations with its allies. He restored America’s prestige in the international community, and earned a personal reputation as a principled voice of moderation. He made a special effort with France, and won over the French prime minister and people with his modesty and earnestness. On his way home, he stopped on the island of Balta, just in time to judge the first-annual Sinclair Lewis Memorial Model Plane and Tile-Grouting Competition. His global efforts produced a period of peace and trust that had no precedent in recent world history. It was the
Pax Bailey
.

But Ralph was not happy. Generally speaking, being president of the United States isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Nothing can prepare someone for the complete isolation of the job. If anyone should have been prepared, it was Ralph Bailey, who had experienced the insularity of life in the White House. He worked long days during his tenure of service to the former president, arriving at six
A.M
. and often not leaving until nine or ten o’clock in the evening. But at least then he went home at the end of the day. He could walk to his apartment in Dupont Circle and feel the evening breeze on his cheek and watch the sunrise the next morning. The presidency, by contrast, confined him to the White House twenty-four hours a day. A team of schedulers arranged his every minute.

Although Ralph had a staff of dozens to attend to his needs, and even to his whims, he was constantly late. On one typical morning he was late for a photo opportunity with the International Sudoku Champion, late to visit with the prime minister of Nauru, late for a fireside chat with Sting about the Amazon rain forest initiative, late for a haircut, late to open the National Chocodile Eating Contest, late to cut the ribbon on the refurbished Mary Todd Lincoln Bedroom, and late to receive the leadership council of the Association of Parent Teacher Associations.

Ralph blamed his lateness on overscheduling, but this was a ruse. Overscheduling could not explain why in the evenings he ate quiet dinners by himself and watched sports on television. This behavior could only be explained by the overwhelming loneliness in Ralph’s heart. He never let this on to Jessica in their e-mail exchanges and brief phone calls, lest it make her feel ambivalent about her own experience. Nevertheless, the fact remained that every moment of every day, Ralph missed Jessica more than he could bear.

H
ALFWAY AROUND THE WORLD
,
Jessica, in contrast to Ralph, had come to adore her life. She was conspicuously happy at the Tibetan orphanage in the foothills of the Himalayas. She rose early, and in the morning performed physical labor. She chopped wood for the furnace and helped prepare the breakfast of warm bread and lentils. She taught the students English in the mornings and basic mathematics in the afternoons. Later in the day, she and the children played games. After dinner, she helped them wash and change for bed. The work was hard, but the days had a pleasant rhythm to
them. The students were respectful, appreciative, and loving. This sustained her.

She had a sense of purpose as never before. Jessica believed that one of the orphans would grow up, free Tibet, and bring peace to the world. She was not sure which one of the orphans it would be, and she loved them all, but she was sure one would, as sure as she had been of anything in her life.

She had no regrets about changing her professional direction. One day, a dispute between the orphanage and a neighboring farm over the ownership of a wandering cow reminded her of law school. She thought about the hours spent studying contracts and the aspirations of being an attorney, and thought to herself: How did I ever?

The only thing she missed about her old life was Ralph, whom she missed dearly. She wished he was with her and knew he would adore sharing the life she had created for herself, but she understood that he was finding his own way as best he could. She was furthermore quietly and completely confident—though she had no basis to believe this—that things would work out for the best between them and that one day, soon enough, they would be together.

This was all a matter of perspective, of course. One could just as easily view tending to Tibetan orphans as tedium and being president of the United States at the impossibly young age of twenty-four as a dream come true. It could just as easily have been Jessica feeling trapped in the Himalayas, pining away in wretched isolation, while Ralph soaked up the unique experience of governing the United States, with its abundant opportunities for travel and easy access to ice cream and fine pasta, and missing Jess, but accepting that she was finding herself and possessing the quiet confidence that someday they would be together. This could be true, but it was not. She was happy and he was sad.

H
ALFWAY ACROSS THE UNIVERSE
,
Ned could see all this. As part of his new assignment, Ned kept an eye on several planets with whom the Rigelians had made first contact. Ned kept a special eye on Earth, both because of how badly things had ended, and because of the special place Ralph had earned in his heart. Few people had touched Ned as Ralph had.

Ned was happy in his own new life. He had more time to spend at home and did not miss the travel one bit. He spent time with
Todd. As his relationship with his son blossomed, he thought back to all those months on the road and wondered to himself: How did I ever? But the developments on Earth troubled Ned deeply. Ralph’s public comments and photographs might have seemed normal to an ordinary person. Ralph’s impressive accomplishments would have created in the average citizen’s mind an image of quiet confidence and competence. But Ned’s discerning eye saw something else: a young man in despair. He began to lose sleep, sometimes tossing and turning in bed for hours. He could not bear to see Ralph like this.

Maude, in turn, could not bear to see her husband so distraught. One day over peanut butter sandwiches and Dr Pepper she said, “Instead of sulking around all the time, why don’t you do something about the situation?” And so Ned did. The matter was not within his official purview. His office monitored the statistical metrics that correlated with the health of a planet and its people. These metrics were improving for Earth thanks to Ralph’s efforts. Nevertheless, in his official report to the Ambassador, Ned included a surveillance photograph of the president of the United States, dressed incognito, with a baseball cap pulled down over his face, trailed by undercover Secret Service agents, wandering the streets of Chinatown in the evening, with what were, unmistakably, tears in his eyes.

T
HE
A
MBASSADOR HAD HIS
own problems. He was absorbed in his next project, a vexing first contact with a species resembling bunny rabbits. They were highly intelligent creatures, with a rich literary tradition. Unfortunately, when they were not reading and writing they were generally either eating or having sex. Overgrazing and overpopulation threatened their survival with Malthusian viciousness. This was the impetus for first contact.

The problem was that the rabbit creatures were unwilling to respond to the problem because of a peculiar spiritual conviction: they believed the universe was filled with disembodied rabbit souls waiting patiently for a corporeal home, and that each had equal moral standing to a living, breathing physical vessel. Of course they did not think of these as “rabbit souls” since they did not think of themselves as rabbits. It was a sticky situation, and occupied much of the Ambassador’s waking thoughts.

Still, he thought often of Earth. Ordinarily, only one or two things from a mission made a lasting impression on the Ambassador.
In the case of Earth, he had expected this would be his complete set of DVDs of
Chappelle’s Show
. But the Ambassador could not get Ralph, the young president of the United States, off his mind. He had the nagging feeling he and Ned had done wrong by Ralph. He wondered whether their desire to better the fate of the planet, to do right by the many, had led them to ignore the needs of the individual. Ned’s report confirmed his intuition, and he called Ned immediately. It was also a good excuse to speak with his friend, whom he missed dearly.

“Hello, Ned,” he said.

“Hello, Mr. Ambassador. I am glad you called.”

“How are you, Ned? How is Todd doing in school?”

“Much better, thank you. We made a deal. Todd is going to finish his traditional education, but he is also taking art classes in the afternoon. If he is still interested in art when he graduates, Maude and I have agreed to send him to the Rigelian Institute for the Study of Design.”

“I thought you called art school a den of sex and drugs.”

“We all evolve. You know that better than anyone else.”

“Perhaps. And Maude?”

“She is just fine, thanks—gardening up a storm. And you, Mr. Ambassador? How are you?”

“I have my hands full.”

Ned said, “I have been following your current situation. It is quite tricky. Is there something I can do to help?”

“There is no one I would rather have by my side, Ned, but that’s not what I am calling about.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m calling about Earth. I think we may have gotten something seriously wrong.”

“The use of violence was regrettable.”

“I don’t mean that. The incident was indeed regrettable, but also unavoidable. Furthermore, I don’t believe it will be a barrier to good relations with Earth in the future. It’s Ralph who concerns me. I saw the photograph. I am worried about him.”

“I was hoping you would say that, sir. Obviously I have had the same thought.”

“I read your report, Ned. The planet’s progress is substantial. And much of it is due directly to him.”

“This is true, sir. Several of his initiatives have reduced the risk profile of Earth substantially.”

“But he is miserable,” said the Ambassador.

“This is also undeniably true, sir.”

“This is tricky, Ned. We have no guarantee someone else would be able to step in and continue the progress Ralph has made. The peace is fragile, the commitment to the environment equally so. The metrics could easily turn negative again without Ralph’s leadership. All of our policies say to leave the situation as is. We need to turn a blind eye to his personal suffering because of his substantial talents.”

“Nevertheless, sir, this doesn’t feel like the right course of action.”

“Against my best professional judgment, I agree,” the Ambassador said quietly. “Do you think we can fix it?” he asked.

“I do, sir. I think I have the perfect idea. Tomorrow is Ralph’s birthday as it turns out.”

“I see where you’re going, Ned. The timing couldn’t be better.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Ambassador paused for a moment. “Do you think we’re getting soft in our old age, Ned?” he asked reflectively.

“No, sir,” said Ned. “The truth is you have been soft all along, and I mean that as the highest possible compliment.”

“Thank you, Ned. It’ll be good to be in action together again.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ambassador. The honor is entirely mine.”

O
N THE EVE OF
his birthday, Ralph slept on the floor of the Oval Office. Prior to becoming president, Ralph had no trouble sleeping. Now he suffered from regular bouts of insomnia. On bad nights, Ralph carried a pillow and blanket down to the Oval Office and slept in the spot where he and Jessica had first picnicked together. He cradled his birthday gift from Jessica, a stuffed animal from Tibet: the Dalia Llama. Into the Llama’s hump had been stitched the words, “I love you.”