Prologue

David Stromfeld meets his old Protege, Anna Eriksen upon arriving at the New Boston Space Elevator. She offers him a job.

Democracy
“Democracy is the worst form of Government, except for all the others
-Winston Churchill”

New Boston Space Elevator, Stronghold Colony
March 13^th 2323 (Earth Calendar)

David Stromfeld felt gravity’s embrace once more as the Space Elevator reached Terminal Velocity, he glanced at the altitude meter on top of the elevator door, and it read 50,000 meters. It would take 10 minutes until the elevator reached the surface; it was enough time for him to read his email. He was about to reach into his pocket to grab his tablet when he looked at the television screen mounted to the wall, opposite of the elevator doors.
            It was showing ECN, what else would it show? It was airing a piece about the election, showing four talking heads, he recognized two of them, the old fart Ilya Voskov and the overly tanned barely legal (for David anyways) Josephina Marquez. They were screaming at each other, so business as usual, discussing something about immigration policy. As usual Voskov was against letting any of those evil ETs into any of the colonies while Marquez wanted to let all of them in, Stromfeld chuckled at the exasperated face of the host and the two other talking heads as the two traded insults. Business as usual, David thought.

He tuned out the TV, choosing instead to scroll through his mail. It wasn’t anything special, an invite to a wedding, his granddaughter’s, spam mail offering everything from tickets to ‘interesting destinations’ to an advertisement for a mature site. But the latest mail, only sent a few hours ago wasn’t anything regular, it was coming from his old student; Anna Eriksen, last time David saw her was in a campaign rally for the Federalist candidate: Alala Obasanjo. He heard that they offered her a job as a junior campaign manager for the Inner Colonies, after that he hasn’t heard from her.
            The subject of the mail read ‘I got a job for you’ David snorted at that, he was out of the business of campaigning, he’d seen enough good candidates, candidates who could actually win get bombarded by scandal after scandal. If Anna was working for Obasanjo, and that the campaign was offering him a job, David wouldn’t take it. Obasanjo was a dreamer, her meteoric rise was too good to be true, there was something behind the wide smile and baby blue eyes, something anyone in the business of campaigning worth their salt could recognize.

David was about to write a reply saying no thanks when the elevator lurched to decelerate, moments later he heard the clasps of the Space Elevator’s graspers guiding the elevator into place. A minute later he could hear the sound of the elevator depressurizing, his hearing returning to him. He placed the tablet in his pocket, he could write a response in the taxi.

A female voice rang out inside the elevator, “Standby to disembark.” He grabbed his luggage, and lined up in front of the door. A minute later the door opened, a large metal door opened with a sizzle and the passengers filed into the port.
            He returned his focus to his tablet, hailing a taxi service to pick him up. He sighed upon entering the terminal, breathing in the cool, conditioned air, he was tired; 8 hours in transit from Luna to Stronghold and then having to experience the rather uncomfortable descent from orbit at a hundred thousand meters to the surface by way of orbital elevator. David was an old man, 80 years old in two months and he had a long day and all he wanted was to lay on his warm, soft bed and enter the embrace of dream land.

            David sat on a nearby bench; his taxi was 10 minutes away. Taking advantage of the time, he began composing the reply to the email. He opened the tablet but was interrupted by a cough. He raised his head, surprised at what he saw:

A small feminine frame, Five foot Ten with long flowing blonde hair, round chin, slightly pudgy cheeks, pointed nose and blue eyes. A wide, mischievous smile was on her face. “Anna Eriksen?” David asked incredulously in a voice that was a mix between annoyed and surprised. “Hey Boss!” she exclaimed, taking a seat next to her old mentor.
            “Shouldn’t you be in Gaia or someplace?” He began,
“Stronghold has 8 billion people, that’s 8 billion voters for Senator Obasanjo”
            “Statistically speaking about 48% of that 8 billion are Federalists, 8% of that is 48% would vote in the primaries, your best bet is Gaia: More old people.” David had a wry smile on his face, sparking a raised eyebrow from the younger woman.
            “There’s plenty of primary voters who’s young, I’m one of them for example”
“Yeah but not everyone spends their childhood counting down the days til’ they could vote while filling that time looping Mr. Smith Goes to Washington”
            

Anna blanched, muttering something about grumpy old men “I heard that young lady. Now what do you want?”

“Can’t a girl visit her old mentor? I missed you Dave” Anna reached out to hug him, one David reluctantly accepts, “I’ve seen the email you sent me Eriksen, and the answer’s no, I’ve gotten out of that business a long time ago”
            “We need you David, you won eight-teen of the twenty-two elections in your career as a Campaigner, no one has that track record.”
            “Your campaign is up 10 points in every poll taken since the first debate; you don’t seem to need the extra help. Besides, those elections? Half the winners got indicted for anything from corruption to friggin’ murder. The other half wound up dead or their careers destroyed because of some other scandal. The point is, I have a curse on me Anna”
            The blonde snorted “I didn’t know you were superstitious old man. That’s nonsense, you’re one of the best people in the business-“
            “I was one of the best, but I’m too old for this campaign. My first national, multi-planetary campaign I was a young man, new blood. What your campaign need is new blood Anna. I’m tired, I have enough of politics. Besides, Obasanjo is hiding something, I know that look, and I’ve seen the same look in every single politician. She’s too good to be true”
            Anna frowned, “You haven’t even met her Dave!”
“Have I ever been wrong about these things young lady?”

At that Anna was silent. The awkward silence was broken by the chime of David’s tablet. “That’s my Taxi, now if you excuse me, I want to go home”

He was halfway to the Terminal’s exit when Anna ran and grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, at least give me a chance to change your mind. Go to dinner with me, my treat, I know this great Italian place Downtown”
            “I hate Italian”
Anna rolled her eyes, “Eat a salad, your already a bit pudgy old man. How’s tonight?”

“I need to hunt for wedding gifts. My granddaughter’s getting married. Tomorrow?” Anna nodded, “Tomorrow, see you then.” David grunted, walking out of the Terminal.