The Frankenstein Candidate Read online

You could almost hear the senior statesmen catch their breath. Had she just thrown in the word Democrat?

  “Yes, our economy is a shambles. As much as I would like to solely blame the Grand Old Party, we are to blame too.”

  Victor Howell cringed…what was going on here?

  “We didn’t investigate when they said carbon alarmism is not true science. We didn’t take them seriously when they said twenty-five trillion of debt cannot be repaid. Our government is about to perpetrate history’s biggest Ponzi scheme on the citizens of the world. We—”

  “What are you doing?” Victor Howell screamed from his front row seat. John Logan, watching the spectacle on his home television, became wildly ecstatic.

  Justin Flannery was standing behind his cameraman. It was Olivia’s next outburst that brought him to his orgiastic climax. It was a media moment to beat all media moments.

  “It’s my speech, Victor…sit down,” she said, and Justin literally wet his pants.

  Olivia had basically thrown down the gauntlet to her own party. She could not accept the presidential nomination today, she said. She was prepared to accept it if the party owned up to its own mistakes and began earnest investigations of the causes of the wreckage. Nothing was to be sacrosanct, she said—everything and everyone was to be scrutinized, with no inference too delicate to be accepted. This was the platform she would be prepared to run on.

  She had given the party two weeks to decide—hers and their political future.

  She was only sorry for the fact it had come up like this, but she had only just made her decision—and it was absolutely irreversible.

  Three days later, at the Moscone Centre in San Francisco, John Logan was nominated unopposed at the Republican National Convention. George W. Bush gave the keynote address, and the smirk never left his face. Even the sick President William Young could not resist a dig. John Logan could not stop smiling.

  Going into the Democratic convention, Olivia Allen led the polls 50-30 against John Logan, with Frank Stein and the undecided taking 10 percent each. After the Democratic convention, Olivia’s rating dropped to thirty points.

  The drop disguised something far more ominous. Democrats had left her in droves. She should have dropped from fifty to under ten, but for the fact that the apolitical, the apathetic, the cynical, the undecided, and the plain old nonvoters had come out of the woodwork to support what they saw as a warm, compassionate, and truthful person.

  Sidney Ganon officially withdrew his concession speech. By the end of the first week of Olivia’s two-week deadline, it became increasingly likely that the party would throw itself behind Ganon.

  41

  Defeating the Black Dog

  Dr. Mardi Tedman had gone back to work a few days before the Democrat national convention. He found it incredibly hard to concentrate. He was afraid of the genie that had been released from the bottle. Requesting an extended leave of absence, Mardi disappeared from work and reappeared of his own volition at Kingsmead Psychiatric. Dr. Bruce Rohl took him in and made an urgent plea for Frank Stein to visit Mardi—he had heard the name so often in Mardi’s short stay that he was convinced Frank Stein could make a positive difference.

  Frank had been sitting by Mardi’s side when Olivia, in his view, blossomed, although some may say disintegrated, in full view of a national audience.

  Frank persuaded Mardi to take a real vacation in Ocean City, Maryland. Frank himself set up office there to continue his Internet campaign. For additional fees, Bruce Rohl agreed to visit Mardi on a thrice-a-week basis; money was no problem for Mardi’s billionaire friend. The apartment in which Mardi lived was kept free of all pointed objects; full-time nurses paid for by the Stein campaign attended to Mardi’s needs.

  “You would still do that for me, Frank?” Mardi asked when he heard of the nurses.

  “Already done,” Frank said.

  The pair hadn’t sat down together for thirty-one years; one day they had been the best of friends, and for the next thirty-one years, they had only met fleetingly in the company of others. Mardi was still emotionally very unstable. Deep in depression, Mardi was coherent and functioning because Dr. Rohl had him on high dose anti-depressants. Dr. Rohl was happy to release Mardi from hospital because he was no longer suicidal. However, he was only released on one condition: that he was never to be alone, even at night. Two full-time nurses were assigned on twelve-hour shifts, and the only break the nurses got was when Frank came by to talk to Mardi, sometimes for hours at a time. More than anything else, Frank wanted to be Mardi’s friend again.

  Mardi was at Ocean City for two weeks. For the most part, Frank and Mardi did not discuss politics. They didn’t even discuss climate change. Often, Frank would just reminisce about high school: his own depression when Susan died, his incredible trauma when his parents died in a car crash. Until Mardi came along, Frank had been the number one geek, but in time, he had become a suave, confident young man.

  “If it weren’t for you, Mardi, I don’t know what would have happened to me, to Daniela,” Frank said, opening the jar of fresh orange juice that he brought every morning for Mardi. In addition to his current problems, Mardi was a type 2 diabetic and his sugar levels were even more susceptible to fluctuation now.

  Mardi hardly spoke during these conversations.

  In the second week, Frank shifted the focus to the good times: Mardi’s scholastic achievements, the joy Frank felt when he stood up to Mardi’s oppressor, Mardi’s genius at inventing, even in high school. They talked about Mardi’s airport carry bag attached to a retractable pedal scooter, the milk carton that changed color as its expiration date approached, the software that could finish any math homework and rewrite it in his handwriting. Mardi was still very much a spectator until Frank reminisced about their double-date experience. Mardi and Frank had been sixteen and never dated before, so the nervous geeks went on a double date with two older girls who they exchanged on their way back. The girls never spoke to them again. Finally, Mardi laughed—for the first time in months.

  It was the third day of the second week. Up until then, no amount of ocean walks, spectacular views, strong medication, or digital entertainment had brought a lasting smile to Mardi’s face. Now Mardi was laughing just as Dr. Rohl entered the apartment.

  “Thank you, Mr. Stein. Miss Allen would be pleased,” he said.

  “Miss Allen?”

  “She cares too,” Dr. Rohl said. “I have been asked to give her daily updates.”

  “I should have known this. If she cares, why isn’t she here?”

  “I am sure that could be organized,” Dr. Rohl replied.

  “Frank, you will like her,” Mardi said in a tone suggesting more a command than a hope. “She saved my life.”

  Later that day, Frank spoke with Dr. Rohl privately.

  “What would you say if I suggested a catharsis, a public cleansing moment?”

  “I do not wish to sound ungrateful for everything you have done, Mr. Stein, but how do I know it is not intended to further your political purposes?”

  “You don’t. Even I don’t. But all you got to worry about is the effect on your patient. What it does to politics is not your worry.”

  “It is a risk. It could go either way. Let me reflect on that overnight.”

  “Thank you. When it comes to psychology, I am a simple man, Dr. Rohl. I believe in simple solutions.”

  “Please elaborate, my dear fellow.”

  “Is it his inner turmoil? Once he goes public with how he sold out—”

  “He will lose all the fame and respect he has gained. How’s he to cope with that?”

  “I think part of him realizes that he has gained nothing. The world loves a public redemption. There’s nothing quite as—”

  “Quite as lovable? True. For some. Still, it could be too early. I will consider it.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Rohl.”

  42

  The Unforgettable Summer of 2020

  June 20 to September 22 was th
e official summer and a time for happy days. But the dark gloom of a great depression had cast its pall so wide, it had even covered the beaches. Moreover, that summer, the National Hurricane Center had issued warnings that several category four tornadoes were likely to hit the southeastern coast through July and August.

  Congress was still debating the rescue package for Sixth National Bank and International Financial Group when the nation’s ninth largest financial institution, the East Coast Atlantic Banking Corporation, applied for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. East Coast Atlantic had been created from government-encouraged mergers among insurers, 401(k) managers, and regional banks to avert a mini-banking crisis in 2013.

  Olivia’s research into the truth had not ceased. She knew that, despite its name, East Coast had major investments in the municipal bonds issued by West Coast states teetering on bankruptcy, including California, Oregon, and Arizona.

  The bankruptcy hearing for East Coast Atlantic was a hopeless cause. The U.S. government had no option but to step in and assure retail depositors that it would stand behind every dollar of deposits not exceeding $250,000 for any one person, as the FDIC’s solvency was in question. The rest, they said, “you could afford to lose” since they didn’t look after the rich. The rich had previously gamed the FDIC rules by spreading their deposits across many banks.

  Meanwhile, Democratic Party delegates met again, this time without the fans and the fanfare, in an undisclosed location where Sidney Ganon was elected unopposed as the party’s presidential nominee. Ganon immediately made an impassioned plea for respect for law and order, community service, job sharing, and “protecting American jobs,” invoking John F. Kennedy’s famous phrase, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.” Very few people attended his campaign’s opening salvo in Central Park, New York.

  The government’s chief scientific officer was on extended sick leave, but none of his friends, colleagues, or even relatives knew where he was. All they got was an occasional text message from Mardi saying he was relaxing at a friend’s holiday house in the Bahamas. Only the psychiatrist Dr. Bruce Rohl, Olivia, and Frank knew of his whereabouts. The nurses only heard him being called “Steevee” by Frank. Knowing he preferred this name, Bruce and Olivia were only too happy to cooperate, and the nurses too called him Steve.

  Mardi wasn’t a highly recognizable celebrity. Frank Stein had become well known, but even his celebrity status was easily overshadowed by Olivia Allen. Down in Ocean City, where she spent a week, she had to disguise herself in a blonde wig, sunglasses, and a sunhat when she was out and about. Her bodyguards were gone—the party didn’t want to pay for them any more. She no longer cared. In fact, she wanted to left alone for awhile. Only Gary knew where his wife was. There were a string of media stations wanting desperately to interview her, longing hysterically to know whether she would run as an independent. Flannery had even dispatched detectives all around the country to locate her, but to no avail.

  Olivia was denounced by her party after Sidney Ganon was officially anointed as the party’s preferred candidate. Only Victor was unsurprisingly quiet. After two successive bloopers in his chosen candidates, Larry Fox decided to retire from politics. In just two months, Larry Fox had taken enough curve balls to last a lifetime, and at seventy, he’d had enough.

  Olivia ostensibly came to Ocean City to see Mardi. But it was to meet Frank Stein that Olivia was in Ocean City for; she had heard from Bruce how much Frank had helped Mardi recover. Bruce’s opinion was that Mardi could have relapsed but for Frank. That scared her. She knew Mardi was much too smart to not succeed at suicide if he tried it again.

  Seeking to meet Frank for the first time one beautiful sunny day in Ocean City, Olivia kept fifteen paces ahead of Frank as she made her way to a café. With her wig, sunglasses, and sunhat, she looked like the quintessential European tourist. Frank followed her in a Hawaiian shirt, sunhat, and sunglasses of his own. Away from the glare of celebrity spotters and radio station hacks, the future of America was being discussed and decided upon over a couple of lattes.

  “I am Olivia,” she said simply.

  “Frank,” he said, extending his hand.

  “I always thought that an extremist like you would be the most despicable person I would ever meet…if I ever met you. Now I have met you,” she said.

  “And?”

  “I don’t know. We have just met.”

  He smiled.

  “Anyway, thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For saving Dr. Tedman.”

  “You saved him first.”

  “I’m surprised…you would do that much for an acquaintance…a school friend with whom you lost touch, I understand.”

  “Not just any friend, Senator Allen—”

  “Olivia…you may call me Olivia.”

  “Mardi is especially brilliant, as you know. I used to say there’s clever, there’s really clever, and then there is Mardi. Mardi could play fifteen games of blindfold chess simultaneously. So Mardi represents the ultimate switch. If they can switch the best of the men of reason—”

  “But they didn’t switch you over, did they?”

  “I considered it too. Just for one brief moment in my twenties,” he said, tongue-in-cheek. “To save himself, Mardi needs to switch back…publicly I think.”

  “Quite a dangerous proposition, Mr. Stein…but then who will save Mardi from them?”

  “Look, I am not a psychiatrist, but surely he doesn’t have a choice? Who else can save him from himself now?”

  “Why did he…why do they all do it?”

  “His choice was related to social approval. Other choices are about power…power other others, social control, an extreme distrust of industrial achievement, the foolish belief that industry goes on like rainfall and sunshine, regardless of human disrespect and obstacles. But when someone leads, others find the courage to follow. That was a wonderful thing you did, Olivia…very courageous.”

  “Thank you. Do you plan on being present if Mardi makes it public?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want to be there too,” she said.

  A week later, Kayla Mizzi scored the highest ratings of any television show since the previous year’s Super Bowl. The fact that the event came on an Internet channel was an ominous moment for broadcast television.

  Olivia Allen’s first public appearance on a national network after her outburst was an event in itself. The fact that she was appearing with the radical independent got tongues wagging: Was she going to join him? Did she already know that when she blew apart her party’s nomination process in a public spectacle? But the questions were not about to be answered.

  Kayla opened by introducing everyone. Then she announced that it was Dr. Tedman’s show, and Olivia Allen and Frank Stein were merely there to give him support. It was a stunning turn, almost diabolical.

  Mardi started cautiously, going over his school days and then talking in cryptic half sentences. Kayla’s efforts to draw him out were getting nowhere. That’s when Frank said quietly, “In the memory of Susan, tell them.”

  Neither Olivia nor Kayla even knew who Susan was. But Mardi was a different man after that. First, he announced that he was resigning his post.

  Then Mardi began to name government bureaucrats who withheld funding from scientists who had scorned the idea that global warming was caused by industrialization. He named senior scientists at reputable organizations who bullied junior scientists into agreement.

  On any other radio or television news channel, the broadcast may have been interrupted by news editors scared of the government’s wrath. But this was the year 2020 and it was an Internet simulcast. Not even the president of the United States could stop this transmission.

  People thought Mardi would stop talking in about fifteen minutes. They wanted to hear from Olivia Allen; why did she do it, why would a person, a woman on the threshold of the presidency, throw away the nomination of a ma
jor party? The nation wanted to know—even the Republicans, the nonvoters, and the neutrals wanted to know. But the longer Mardi kept going, the less people needed to hear from Olivia.

  Mardi demonstrated that the U.S. government was committed to spreading the carbon lie but did not really begin to act upon it vigorously until 2014. Then everything changed. The environmental cult virtually took over governments: state, federal, and local. New carbon laws were introduced in the U.S.: carbon taxes, carbon trading, and carbon permits sold at ever-increasing prices solely by the federal government. Carbon became the new four-letter word in the English language. Beginning in 2015, various U.S. corporations had been subject to unannounced carbon raids whereby federal officials swooped on company offices without notice, stationed themselves, and audited their carbon data files. Of course, some carbon inspectors ended up corrupt and rich.

  But it was when Mardi described his personal loneliness: going back to the time he joined school, then his high school days, the awkward years of youth, his autism, and his recent suicide attempt, that the nation cried with him. Many felt sorry for Mardi—yet it was really hard to forgive him. Some even twittered that attempted suicide was a felony and Mardi had just admitted to it. It was even harder for Mardi to forgive himself.

  After Mardi, Olivia and Frank spoke briefly. Olivia issued a terse statement elucidating her reasons for throwing her nomination into the world’s greatest “please reconsider” moment. She had not stood down from the invitation to be a presidential candidate—she had offered to run only on an honest mission to discover the truths that were tearing America down and to apply the lessons of the investigation. But it was the party that had declined.

  Frank congratulated Mardi on his courageous career-ending confession, denounced those who had renounced their integrity, and ended up by publicly hugging him. “Mardi, my friend,” he said to the teary Mardi.