Pedestals of Ash (46 page)

Pete turned to the gathered onlookers and deci
ded to cheer everyone up. He
raised both hands
high
in the air. “Are we going to have a celebration or not? The first round is on me!”

Sophia Morgan had worked for the
executive b
ranch of the federal government through four different administrations. She had never married and was 51 years old. Her Georgetown apartment had been chosen because of its proximity to the federal office building where
she worked.
Sophia had entered government service as an intern shortly after graduating with a Doctorate in Constitutional Law from The University of New York and had never looked back.

She had always been shy and clumsy with interpersonal relationships, only accepting a few offers to date while in school. The experience hadn’t been positive because Sophia preferred computers and libraries to people. She had two basic passions in life - research and a strong desire to feel like she was making a difference.

In the fast moving world of Washington politics, Sophia was neither attractive nor smart enough to be harvested for higher positions. PhDs and lawyers were a dime a dozen in D.C., and Sophia had never published anything or achieved
any sort of public
notoriety. What
her employer did
recognize was her dedication to the country and a remarkable capability to dig through reams of data. She was what some people called a “boiler,” in that she could investigate extremely complex subjects and boil down the results into an understandable summary. Busy presidents often needed such reports crafted in a fashion they could read quickly, understand
fully,
and count on being accu
rate. She was really a political agnostic
and had never registered to vote for either party
. H
er reports were delivered without spin or bias.

Over the years, Sophia had never shown any sign of ambition or desire to climb
any
partisan
ladder. She
arrived
promptly
at the office
every morning
,
and
no one could recall her ever speaking
out. Her job reviews noted her dedication and neutrality. These attributes allowed
Sophi
a
to maintain her position, despite the turnover associated with a new president coming to town every few years.

Since she didn’t work at the White House proper, Sophia had been reasonably unaffected when the building had been overrun. Even during the riots and anarchy that followed, she had stayed
quiet and safe in her studio flat
. Her neighbors across the hall were a young family of four and had asked her to keep an eye on their apartment while they were away for a few weeks visiting relatives in the Midwest. That
stroke of luck had made a big difference in
Sophia’s
survival
. Always frugal, the monthly trips to the member’s only discount stores
had
resulted in the purchase of large quantities of basic staples. Having the keys to the neighboring apartment and its
well-stocked
pantry had
bolstered her
provisions
and
allowed her
to eat
after her cupboard was bare
. She had lost a few pounds
, but wasn’t starving.

Water had been another issue. Several months ago,
the rowdy te
nant above Sophia
got a promotion
, somewhat a rarity in the days of downsizing and mergers,
a
nd planned a wild celebration
. To Sophia it seeme
d that every up and coming 20
-something in D.C. had been there, an assumption based partly on the volume of the music and partly on the way her ceiling fan shook under the weight of the occupants
.
It was no surprise to her that there had been some damage to the pipes, resulting in dripping water between the tin tiles above her tiny kitchen.
No telling what those idiots tried to grind in the garbage disposal once the cops showed up
she thought
.
The landlord had been apologetic, providing 5-gallon buckets t
o catch the
dripp
ing water
, and no one had ever retrieved them when the repairs were finally
complete. Sophia
sat the buckets on the roof to catch
rainwater
,
and that had been a
lifesaver
.

Her mother lived in F
lorida, right in the middle of h
urricane country. Sophia had purchased a
hand-cranked
device that was a combination radio and flashlight for Chr
istmas. She had wrapped the gift in festive red and green paper, but left it on the counter, waiting for her next trek to the post office. After all, she had plenty of time before the holiday rush. Once the world turned topsy-turvy, Sophia depended on the device to provide her light.

Cooking hadn’t be
en a problem at first. Natural g
as seemed to be unaffected in the Washington area for a few weeks. Sophia had initially
panicked the first time she
turned the stove’s knob and nothing happened. A few days went by with only
cold meals and washing with icy
water. Her biggest concern was boiling the
rainwater
to drink, as she didn’t know how pure it was
,
and th
e surface of the water was riddled with floating insects when she retrieved the buckets
from outside. Her Georgetown apartment had a small corner fireplace in the living room. She had decorated the
hearth
after moving
in, but never
even toasted marshmallows in
it. Her trips home from the office soon included stopping to pick up dead branches or anything else that would burn.

Another problem was the roving bands of looters. When she had moved into the apartment, the neon lights from nearby shops had
interrupted
her sleep. She finally had solved the problem
by purchasing
a very expensive set of blinds for the windows that blocked the offensive blinking lights when closed. Those blinds had probably saved her life as they blocked anyone from seeing her
candles
at night.

After the first week, most of her neighborhood had been thoroughly ransacked. Sophia’s building had been spared because of the unusual entrance that was via an unmarked side door. The raiders had simply overlooked the building. As time went on, she saw fewer and fewer dangerous people around. It was almost three weeks before she felt safe enough to sneak to the office, and she still took the back route with great care.

When the military had reestablished control, she simply reported for work as normal, surprised to see she was one of only a few who did so. She stood in line, waiting to receive whatever the army was passing out and made sure no one took notice or followed her home.

Despite there being no paychecks,
information,
or leadership, Sophia continued to walk from her apartment every day. Unlocking the door to the office space leased by the government, she had sat for weeks with nothing to do.

All of that had changed a few hours ago. Two men from the Treasury department had shown up and asked for help in performing some research. Sophia had been excited, hopefully having important work ahead of her. The men wanted a list of the individuals, in order, who were in line to succeed the President of the United States.

In normal times, that task would be beneath Sophia. The line of succession was well defined by the
C
onstitution and subsequent law. It started with the Vice President of the United States, continuing down thr
ough the Speaker of the House,
P
resident of the Senate (pro tempore) and then various cabinet level secretaries.

With the sacking of Washington, the House and Senate hadn’t convened for months. There were two cabinet positions that hadn’t bee
n confirmed and of course, the vice p
resident was dead. The two men from Treasury were really Secret Service agents and Sophia quickly
put two and two together. The p
resident was dead
,
and the country needed a new leader.

This wasn’t the first time in the nation’s history that succession had been an issue. Starting in 1849, President Polk’s term expired on a Sunday
,
and president-elect Taylor refused to be sworn in on the holy day due to religious beliefs. For one day, a man by the name of David Atchison
,
P
resident pro tempore of the S
enate, was technically acting as president. Or so he claimed.

Succession has been invoked 11 times in the history of the United States. Not all of the transfers have been smooth or non-controversial. In recent times, President Nixon’s looming impeachment would have been yet another example. At one point in time, there was a vice president
vacancy,
given the resignation of Spiro Agnew. Fortunately, Vice President Ford was confirmed before Nixon resigned, allowing him to be sworn in without
controversy
.

Sophia quickly summarized there were two issues involved. The first centered on
whom
exactly wa
s the
S
peaker of the House and
P
resident of the Senate. The Speaker was elected
on the first day of every new C
ongress, but since there had been no elections, it wasn’t clear who that person
would legally be. The Senate’s p
resident pro tem was conventionally the longest serving senator of the majority party, but still required appointment. With the known death and unknown whereabouts of several senior senators after the collapse, who exactly was the third in line for succession? 

Sophia informed the men that she would be happy to perform the research, but the lack of electricity and access to computer systems would make the task next to impossible. She was going to need access to several different libraries as well.

The men from Treasury were ready for that response, and informed Sophia that they would take her to a facility that should provide her with everything she needed. They even offered to escort her home so she could pack a few nights worth of clothing as she may be away for a while.

Within an hour Sophia was being driven through depressing, desolate street
s
of Washington on her way to a remote location in Virginia. It was there, she was assured, full access to everything she needed would be provided.

As they snaked their way through Washington’s side streets, Sophia noticed several tow trucks pulling cars. She had sat and looked out her apartment window for weeks without seeing any traffic and few pedestrians. The
scarce
people she did
ob
se
rv
e on the streets looked like an undesirable element and she had quickly moved away from the window.

She asked one of the men in the front seat what was happening with the towing.

The agent in the passenger seat responded, “The military is trying to clear a path through the main streets and freeways. They have commandeered over 100 tow trucks and are trying to clear one lane each direction. They are taking all of the cars and trucks down to the football stadium’s parking lot.”

Sophia nodded her understanding and
continued gazing
out the window. “That should help the city get moving again
,
I would think. This has always been a commuter town.”

The agent agreed, but shocked Sophia with his next statement. “I heard one report that even with 100 tow trucks, it was going to take them over four months just to clear the beltway.”

“My goodness,” responded Sophia, “why don’t they just put gas in the cars and drive them off?”