“There is no vice president. Don’t worry. Let’s just get through tonight and then we’ll have plenty of time for me to bring you up to speed. Okay?”
There wasn’t a vice president? Yeah. She definitely needed brought up to speed. “Sure. Okay.”
Gaia followed Ryan out of the room and back into the larger chamber it was a part of. The guests clapped and cheered as her husband made his way toward the balcony. When Gaia made to follow him, Chastity held her back.
“Not yet,” the stylist whispered conspiratorially. “You’ll know to walk out when you are announced.”
“Announced?”
As if on cue, a disembodied male voice broadcasted Ryan’s imminent appearance over what sounded like an intercom system. It was quite loud, reverberated, and carried out for likely blocks and blocks. “Ladies and gentlemen, the president-elect of United Christian America, General Ryan David Evans.”
David, she thought.Well at least I now know his middle name.
Ryan strolled out onto the balcony to a roaring, cheering crowd below. Was it not for the television consuls in the antechamber showing the scene play out, Gaia wouldn’t have known there was an audience outside for him to speak in front of. Audience, she decided, was a modest word for the crush of applauding, elated faces greeting her husband. Good grief. They were staring up at him as if he was the second coming. A knot of tension coiled in her belly.
“My fellow, Christian Americans…” Ryan began.
A chorus of loud booing erupted from three people holding megaphones. Two men and one woman, obviously displeased with the election results, made their displeasure publicly known. Gaia winced, feeling sorry for her husband, then shuddered again when the TV showed the protesters being beaten and cuffed. She froze, her hazel eyes wide, unable to believe the brazenness of the police… and the fact that Ryan said nothing to dissuade them.
Maybe he can’t see what’s going on, she told herself.All those lights and flashing cameras have to be disorienting.
The knot in her stomach grew. She had always abhorred violence, but state sanctioned brutality took things to a new, horrific level. She had no time to process her emotions as the beaten and handcuffed protestors were taken away and out of sight. Gaia’s breathing grew a bit labored. She was starting to feel physically ill.
“Damned rebels,” Chastity hissed into her ear. “I shouldn’t curse, but that’s what they are… damned rebels.”
What, Gaia wondered, constituted a rebel these days? Did Chastity recognize those three in particular as wanted persons from the days of war or did merely disagreeing with the power in charge—Ryan in this case—make one a rebel? She almost put the question to the stylist then thought better of it. She’d been taken through enough today, though arguably not as much as the protestors had been, and wasn’t altogether certain she could handle an answer she didn’t want to hear.
Gaia stood in stunned silence as Ryan delivered his victory speech. She paid half-hearted attention to his words, especially once she realized they merely consisted of the same promises all politicians made. Make the country a better place for our children? Check. A stronger military? Check. Create new jobs? Check. Check. Check. Check.
Still, she didn’t want to rain on Ryan’s parade so she was careful to keep a poised expression on her face. She had no idea how she was expected to behave so she thought back on First Ladies past of her former country and went with that. Back straight, smile serene, hands clasped almost demurely in front of her. Unfortunately, the harder she tried to look the part the less the part she felt. This—none of this—would have been wanted by the Gaia she once knew. It definitely wasn’t wanted by the Gaia she was now.
Just get through the remainder of the night, she told herself.You can do this.
She didn’t realize Ryan’s speech was over until loud, boisterous cheers and applause went up in the room as well as outdoors below the balcony. Chastity, a tall blonde even without heels, leaned over and whispered down to Gaia. “Get ready. They’ll be announcing you at any moment.”
“Chastity?”
“Yes, dear?”
Gaia knew it wasn’t the appropriate time to ask a wardrobe question, but she was nervous and needed a distraction. “Why aren’t you wearing one? A lock, I mean.”
Her green eyes widened. Astonished at first, she proceeded to giggle as though Gaia had told a wonderful joke. “I took you seriously there for a moment,” the stylist laughed. “An unwed woman wearing a lock. Imagine that!” She giggled again.
Gaia forced herself to smile back, though inside she felt rather queasy. This lock and key business was as unsettling to her as watching the protestors get beaten up by the police had been. These people were a character study in contrasts. Hair covered, but cleavage on display. Locks for married women with their husbands holding the keys, while unwed females weren’t required to virtue signal. It was as if the novelThe Handmaid’s Taleand Caligula’s Rome had bred a new society together.
“How I envy you your lock,” Chastity quietly mused. “I can’t wait to marry so I can turn in my chastity belt for a beautiful lock. These belts are so uncomfortable.”
Gaia swallowed—hard. She hid her wide hazel eyes from the stylist, looking to the balcony instead. “That’s understandable,” she forced herself to squeak out. Clearly UCA was moreHandmaid’s Talethan Caligula, but the latter still played a part. Women were expected to look like sex kittens and behave like Sunday School teachers. “Can’t blame you at all.”
If she had thought the evening couldn’t get worse, she was wrong. Never one who craved the spotlight, all eyes turned to her when the announcer came back on. Her breathing hitched as she realized the time to walk out onto the balcony was now.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the disembodied voice said, “May I present the First Lady of United Christian America…” Drums literally rolled. Gaia thought she might faint. “Mrs. Gaia Marie Evans!”
Gaia forced herself to walk with as much poise as she could muster. The party attendees clapped for her, making a wide berth for her to approach the balcony. Ryan was waiting out there for her, his smile wide, which helped calm her nerves to an extent. He extended his hand, anticipating her arrival at his side. Once she reached the balcony, she was practically blinded by the lights and camera flashes—and nearly deafened by the gasps of shock. She took her husband’s proffered grasp and held tightly.
“Oh my God. Is that… is that…? Oh my God!” someone in the crowd yelled out.
“Jesus, take the wheel!” a Southern woman proclaimed.
