Would 28-year-old David West become the youngest Texas Attorney General in history? It was 10:30 a.m.; the polls had been open for three hours. Over 20 percent of voters in Texas had already cast their ballots. And yet, amazingly, the outcome was still impossible to predict.
As recently as 10 years earlier, exit poll results had been withheld from the public. Several politicians had even tried to legislate a ban on exit polls, but none were successful. When made aware of exit poll results through the media, voters often wouldn’t bother to cast their ballots unless the election was close. By blocking exit poll information, the government had hoped to keep people voting all day and thereby avoid skewing the outcome. Such efforts proved futile as poll results were instantly rebroadcast to America from other countries.
Such information flow could not be restricted, an original intent of the “information superhighway.” Eventually the public, and hence their political representatives, wisely embraced the philosophy that freedom of information was more valuable than correcting this minor kink in the electoral process.
Thus in a typical race in 2012, the winner would have been known at least an hour earlier and the loser would have already conceded. But exit polls for this race showed a virtual dead heat.
* * *
Pete watched on his screen at home, feeling nervous—and sad. Skipper had died of old age just 17 days earlier and Pete was still depressed over the loss. The living room just wasn’t the same without old Skipper, his warm, furry heft resting contentedly on Pete’s lap like a 60-pound newborn baby.
Maybe I should have gone with David after all, Pete thought to himself. It’s lonely here tonight.
David had invited him to sit on the podium at the Anatole Hotel with his mother, Joanne, brother, Philip, Diana, and their six-month-old son, Justin (Pete’s godchild), while they awaited the results. But Pete had declined, in part because of a guilt-inspiring ambivalence toward David’s wife and child. As the Wests began their family, Pete had enviously watched Diana’s love for her infant son literally engulf her. If only Justin were my son, Pete had thought, hating himself for thinking it. Mine and Diana’s.
But that wasn’t what he told his friend. “I’m too wellknown now, David, and some people might not want the Truth Machine to succeed. If I attend there’d be personal risk not just to me, but to everyone there. I know security’ll be tight, but why take chances?”
“I understand.”
Although similarly unspoken, Pete also didn’t wish to jeopardize David’s promising political career by further emphasizing their association in voters’ minds.
Indeed, David’s relationship with Pete had become the biggest issue in the campaign. A one-percent shareholder in ATI, David West was, according to Texas Monthly, one of the 50 wealthiest individuals in the state. He had the financial resources to get plenty of credit for his campaign, or fund it himself if need be. And as Pete’s best friend and former college roommate, he had no trouble getting media coverage.
But there were disadvantages, too. He had to overcome suspicions that he would use his influence to advance ATI’s interests, a point “Dutch” Treat often raised.
“I have nothing against ATI,” Treat had told a Houston newscaster on statewide multimedia feed, “I’m just not sure an attorney general can act with total impartiality if he owns $1 billion worth of stock in Texas’s most powerful corporation.”
David didn’t bother to defend his stock ownership by suggesting he had somehow “earned” the stock, either through his role in ATI’s formation or the initial idea of the Truth Machine. He merely asked members of the press, “What was I supposed to do, give it back?”
He did issue an open letter pledging that, if elected, he would recuse himself from any decisions that could affect ATI’s profits. “My financial situation makes me less dependent on fund-raising and other political influences,” he added. “All my actions as Attorney General will be directed purely by conscience rather than political expedience.”
But he refused to sell his stock or distance himself from Pete. He told Mosely while the campaign was still touch-and-go, “I think I know Pete Armstrong better than anyone else. He’s generous, honest, and moral, without a mean bone in his body. I’m proud to call him my friend. I promised him I’d never sell my ATI stock and I’m not going to. Frankly, Tom, I’d rather lose this election than Pete’s respect and affection. I hope you print that entire quote right on page one!”
Pete was equally supportive of his friend and worked tirelessly as a fund-raiser for the campaign. But Pete always tried to dodge the media’s attempts to engage him in discussion about David. Whenever he fielded a question on the election, he simply told reporters, “I’m positive David West will be the best Attorney General in the history of the state.” Sometimes he would also joke, “I’ll vote for him, even though he’s a Democrat.”
The release of the letter David had written to Treat 14 months earlier had also become an issue. Treat had accused David of purposely leaking it to the Dallas Morning News.
“I didn’t leak that letter,” David had responded, turning the accusation around. “I can’t prove I didn’t, but I know I didn’t, and as soon as Pete Armstrong’s Truth Machine is perfected, I’ll be happy to take a truth test. I wrote that letter for Treat’s eyes only, out of moral conviction, without any intended political purpose. I think even voters who don’t agree with me want an attorney general who makes decisions with his conscience.”
In fact, according to a poll taken at the time, a vast majority of Texans, including those who thought the death penalty should have been sought in the State vs. Kramer-White,16 said they admired West for writing the letter. Leaking information to the press has never been illegal, and at the time there were no laws against telling lies in an election campaign. Honesty, not legality, was the real question. Was David West being truthful in denying he had leaked his own letter to Mosely?17
Since there was no Truth Machine, and therefore no way to know whether David was being truthful, it became a matter of personal preference. If you liked West, you tended to believe him. And if you didn’t like him, you probably thought he was lying.
By 11 a.m. it became apparent that just enough voters liked him. He won the election with less than 51 percent of the vote to Treat’s 49 percent. In January 2013, David West would be sworn in as Texas Attorney General.
CHAPTER 22
ARMAGEDDON AVERTED
Dallas, Texas
March 17, 2013—Police apprehend six Irish terrorists who tried to detonate a five-megaton nuclear device in the heart of London. A seventh accomplice is still on the loose. The blast had been set for noon London time. Fortunately, the Russian-made bomb was detected by a secret United States satellite system and defused just in time. Experts estimate it would have killed at least 10 million persons.—In the sobering wake of the events in London, the United Nations General Assembly passes Resolution #2091A, outlawing violence as a means of resolving disputes. Ordering soldiers to kill in war other than in self-defense is now a capital offense. The resolution is symbolic, essentially unenforceable.—Cuba officially becomes the 53rd state, admitted to the USA after a Cuban referendum vote in which 71 percent of ballots were cast in favor of accepting the U.S. Congress’s invitation to join the union.—Texas Instruments breaks ground on its new world headquarters in Dallas. The 190-story edifice will be nearly 2,700 feet high, the tallest building in the world.
David and Diana were doting parents. They treasured every moment with their baby, and like most parents, worried about him constantly—sometimes irrationally. Often David would wake up during the night, compelled to check Justin’s crib to verify that his son was still breathing. He knew it was silly, but it was the only way he could go back to sleep. His love for this little boy was the most inexplicable and powerful emotion he had ever experienced.
Sharon Rosenfield had become their close friend. The former family doctor and mother of two was familiar with parents’ preoccupatio
n with their firstborn. She had told them when Justin was a few weeks old, “In medical school they teach us that parents become more detached as they have more children. The classic example is when the baby’s formula bottle accidentally gets dropped on the floor. First-time parents pour out the contents, sterilize the bottle, refill it, and continue feeding the child. With the second child, they probably just wash the bottle in hot water.” Then she giggled. “By the third or fourth child, they usually just kick the bottle back to her.”
David and Diana had howled with laughter.
Diana’s love for Justin was as intense as David’s, and like most mothers’ love, more sustained. While David was at work each day, his thoughts turned frequently to his wife and son. But as Diana remained with Justin, her love was all-consuming. Their son had replaced David as the single most important person in her life, and her studies and all contemplation of a career had been crowded out of her thoughts.
Shortly after David’s election, Diana had started noticing changes in Justin’s behavior and appearance. At first, it seemed he could never get comfortable and was easily startled by loud noises. More disturbing, his motor development seemed delayed. Diana assumed it was some normal childhood ailment, but when HomeDoc diagnosed his symptoms as “ambiguous,” she took her son to his pediatrician to be safe. He was diagnosed with Tay-Sachs.
Endemic to certain mostly Jewish ethnicities, Tay-Sachs was so rare that prenatal tests were not routine. For a child to contract the disease, both parents had to be carriers. The test had been deemed unnecessary since Diana was half Chinese and, she thought, half Irish. She was mistaken. Her great-grandfather had been Ashkenazic and she had somehow inherited the gene.
Heartbroken, the Wests had stayed with their son day and night. Heeding his role as Justin’s godfather, Pete had offered constant moral support, visiting them every day. The three took turns holding and comforting the baby, who progressively worsened. Sometimes they would talk, or if his friends needed quiet, Pete would share their grief in silence. Considering himself on 24hour call, he had set his wristband to accept their signal day or night and made them promise to call whenever they needed him.
For the first time, Pete experienced totally selfless empathy for David and Diana. Watching the couple suffer a loss that he imagined was far more painful for them than his own great tragedy was for him, he tried to put his feelings for Diana into perspective. He had always regarded her with love and friendship, but at that moment vowed to overcome his desire for her. By God, he would finally be the pure friend they deserved.
The side effect of Pete’s vow was that over the next nine years, he lost interest in women and in sex. Occasionally he would regain interest and begin new relationships, but they’d rarely last longer than a week or two. Perhaps it was a symptom of the guilt he felt over having thought of Diana in that way for so many years. Or maybe he simply didn’t wish ever to love anyone as much as the Wests loved Justin, potentially exposing himself to the pain his friends were now feeling.
Assisted suicide had been legal for over nine years, and David and Diana had considered it for their son. Rosenfield discussed the option with them at length and had offered to help. It would have been a simple matter to get a guardianship waiver for Justin, since Tay-Sachs was a painful disease with a 100-percent mortality rate. Sometimes Tay-Sachs victims survived until close to their sixth birthday. It was possible, although unlikely, that cryonic freezing prior to death would be legal for the terminally ill within two years; if not in the United States, at least elsewhere in the world. Some day in the distant future a cure might be discovered that could allow Justin to be revived and lead a normal life. The odds were slim, yet any chance had seemed worth taking.
In late November, David had flown to Washington DC for one day to testify at the Senate Cryonics Legislation Hearings. He’d told Justin’s story to the senators and to the American public watching and listening through the media, arguing for swift passage. “I know this will come too late for our own son, but a rationally conceived national cryonics policy could offer hope to so many others.”
As the newly elected Texas Attorney General and closest friend of the famous Randall Petersen Armstrong, David’s plight had become a national story. In the midst of their greatest suffering, he and Diana became public figures, admired for their courage and humanity in the face of terrible anguish.
They could do nothing but watch in sorrow as their child died a painful death. Fortunately death came quickly. Justin West died on March 17, 2013, at the age of 10 months. Diana and David would never have another child.
Any life-threatening or fatal affliction has the potential to focus the human mind, if only because it demonstrates with a singular clarity how short and precious life is.
Great adversity had already visited David West, focusing his mind and tempering his character. But Diana suddenly became far more serious, more determined. She would grieve for her son and think about him every day for as long as she lived, but willed herself not to be incapacitated by her loss. More than ever she wanted, in fact needed, to make a difference in the world.
Diana loved David and was proud of him. She believed deeply in her husband’s integrity and ability, but knew she couldn’t live her life through him or his accomplishments; she needed a career and goals of her own.
The same day her son died, terrorists with a nuclear device had nearly destroyed London, a symbolic cradle of democracy. How lucky the world had been that day. A series of fortunate interventions had saved the city of 14 million, and possibly the planet, from an unthinkable catastrophe. If that bomb had been detonated and its source never detected, would the repercussions have been confined to Britain? Perhaps. But considering Britain’s fearsome nuclear capability, in that nation’s pique war might have ensued. Maybe humankind’s final war.
Before her marriage, Diana had intended to dedicate her life to the study of government and to understanding the psychological forces that drive nations to war. The day Justin West died, Diana made up her mind to return to SMU immediately, and the world regained a brilliant and driven force toward rationalism and sanity.
CHAPTER 23
CRYONICS
Washington DC
June 15, 2015—Vladimir Borovski becomes the first human to set foot on Mars. The crew of two Americans, two Russians, and two Chinese cut a deck of cards for the honor of being the first to exit the spaceship, and Borovski drew the high card. As expected, there are no signs of life noted on the red planet’s surface.—President Roswell signs S. 1122, the Cryonic Regulations Bill, into law, making the United States the first nation to legalize cryonic suspension of terminally ill humans. At least 300,000 Americans are expected to apply for freezing during the first 12 months.—In response to U.S. legislation, the pope issues a statement denouncing the practice of cryonics: “Life and death are matters that should be determined only by God.”—The Unitarian Universalist Association, headquartered in Boston, publishes an official announcement that reads, in part, “Since there are varying opinions on the nature of the human soul, we believe cryonics is a personal decision best left to each individual.”
I won’t speculate how the U.S. Cryonic Regulations would have been written had the Democrats controlled Congress that year, or if the President had been someone other than Garrison Roswell. The best word to describe how they did turn out would be “pragmatic.” The second most descriptive word might be “mercenary.” They offered a particularly profitable arrangement for the United States government.
On the day the Cryonic Regulations became law, popular evangelist Reverend Charley Bleacher declared on national media feed, “The field of cryonics ignores the fact that human beings are more than mere bodies. Indeed, we are immortal souls who happen to inhabit bodies. What do they suppose will become of our souls while those bodies are on ice? Maybe we won’t just sit on a cloud somewhere for 30 or 40 years. We might all grab other bodies and enjoy another lifetime. Those scientists could end up thawing out
a million pieces of meat with the souls of a million pot roasts.”
Politicians were more practical. If people wanted to try for a longer life (or immortality) here on earth, legislators weren’t about to ignore them. When asked to remark on Bleacher’s assertion, Senator Jimmy Hayes (R. LA) replied, “Everybody knows church attendance is down. I’m a religious man myself, but with all due respect, I suspect some men of the cloth are more interested in media exposure than in our immortal souls.”
Texas Attorney General David West commented, “Cryonics has no more to do with God than a kidney transplant or an artificial heart. Suspension should be a personal choice, pure and simple. Nobody has to get frozen unless he or she believes it’s appropriate. I don’t see why cryonics is so different from any other form of medical treatment.”
The Truth Machine Page 16