The Lawless One and the End of Time

by Lonnie Pacelli

  “Senators,” Janus continued, “please vote for one name only from the list and do not make any other marks on the ballot. The voting must be kept anonymous. I will collect the ballots after one minute.” Janus did not want anyone else handling the completed ballots to avoid any possibility of vote tampering. After one minute, Janus walked row by row, collecting ballots from each senator, adding them to his own ballot. After collecting all 99 ballots, he walked back to the podium.

  “I will now announce each ballot name and tally the votes.” The seven names were listed on a whiteboard next to the podium. As he announced a name, the senate caretaker put a hash mark next to the name. As hash marks filled the whiteboard, there were whispers among the senate about who was winning, who was losing, who would be voted for on the next round. After all 99 votes were counted, Janus announced the results, putting the ballots in his coat pocket.

  “Senator Kask, 11. Senator Kuzma 12. Senator Carlotta, 12. Senator Kivi, 12. Senator Ambrosi, 20, Senator Jordanopolous, 16. Senator Backus, 16.”

  Janus walked to the whiteboard, placing a red check mark next to Ambrosi, Backus and Jordanopolous, they advanced to round two. He put a line through Kask. He circled Kuzma, Carlotta, and Kivi, who tied. Only two of the three would advance.

  “We have a three-way tie for the last two slots, so we’ll follow senate rules and draw two names from a bag.”

  Sal couldn’t believe it. The person who beat him in number one ranking at Academy was safe to the next round. There was a two-in-three chance he would advance, all determined by a piece of paper that some bureaucrat would pull from a bag. He gazed at Paul, who was looking at the whiteboard, a slight smile on his face as he looked at the 20 and the check mark next to his name. Janus wrote names on three identical small pieces of paper, folded each, and put them in a bag.

  “Senator Ambrosi, because you received the most votes, I would like you to draw two names from the bag.” More insult to injury for Sal. Not only was his future being determined by a drawing of names, but his main competition in life would be drawing them.

  “Yes, Senator Janus.” Paul walked up to the podium, turned his head away from the bag to avoid seeing the names, reached into the bag, pulled one piece of paper, and handed it to Janus.

  “Senator Kivi.” Janus announced, putting the bag down behind the podium.

  Sal now had a 50-50 chance. Senator Kuzma was sitting next to him, much more relaxed than Sal. She would have been happy to serve as chairperson, but felt she was a longshot to win. She was expecting to lose and was OK with it.

  “Good luck, Senator,” Kuzma said to Sal.

  Sal didn’t say anything, still fuming at Paul determining his future as a politician. Kuzma turned away and whispered to Kivi, “What an ass.”

  Janus picked up the bag from the back of the podium containing the two pieces of paper. Paul reached into the bag, pulled the second piece of paper, and handed it to Janus.

  Speeches

  2060

  J anus looked at the piece of paper and announced the name. “Senator Kuzma.”

  Sal couldn’t take it. He burst from his chair and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him, the entire senate seeing his temper tantrum. Janus put the two pulled names back in the bag and put it in his coat pocket. He gave instructions on the next round. “Senators Ambrosi, Backus, Jordanopolous, Kuzma, and Kivi, you will each deliver a two-minute speech on why you are best qualified to be chairperson. The speech must be on your own merits, not an attempt to discredit others. If I hear any negative comments you’ll be immediately disqualified. Senator Ambrosi you’re first.”

  Paul approached the podium, bottle of water in one hand, notes noticeably absent. He would deliver his speech from memory. Kuzma leaned over to Kivi, “Political disaster in the making,” she said. Kivi just smiled, thinking the same thing.

  Paul looked across the room, noticed Sal’s empty seat. Sal had started to make his way back into the room but turned around and left again when he saw Paul at the podium. Paul took a last glance at the clock and began his speech about “peace through strength.” He talked of the Europe Ethnarchy being a great military power that would garner the respect of other ethnarchies. He talked of the importance of defending Israel and not letting it fall into the hands of its Palestinian neighbors. As he talked, he confidently panned his gaze across the senators, as if he were talking to each of them individually. His message was of the greatness of the Europe Ethnarchy, and how he would be focused on creating an economy the other ethnarchies would admire. He finished with two seconds to spare, the senators applauding his speech, his competitors recognizing the high bar Paul set. Once Sal heard the applause, he came back into the room and took his seat.

  Senators Backus, Kivi, and Kuzma delivered their speeches, all three positive and respectable. Senator Jordanopolous, who had lost to Dalca in the prior election and was still bitter, approached the podium and began his speech.

  “Fellow Senators, I believe the Europe Ethnarchy has only begun on its road to greatness.” He originally planned to use notes, but after Paul gave his speech without notes he felt the only way to compete was to give his speech extemporaneously. It was to be his undoing.

  “In the short time Chairperson Dalca was in office, he did nothing to distinguish Europe from the other ethnarchies.”

  “Stop!” Janus said.

  Startled, Jordanopolous looked at Janus.

  “No negative messaging. You went negative on Dalca. Disqualified.”

  Jordanopolous began to protest, but Janus wasn’t having it. “Disqualified,” Janus repeated.

  It wasn’t part of his plan to diss Dalca and he had it nowhere in his notes that he decided not to use. He just couldn’t help himself. Jordanopolous walked down from the stage and slowly made his way back to his seat, embarrassed by the disqualification and ticked that Dalca defeated him again, this time from the grave.

  Janus then approached the podium, “I have the ballots with the five names. Because Senator Jordanopolous was disqualified, do not cast a vote for him.” Each senator voted, Janus collected the ballots, then announced the votes while the caretaker tallied on the whiteboard. Once the tallies were complete, the caretaker counted hash marks and wrote numbers by each name.

  Janus announced the results. “Senator Backus, 29. Senator Kuzma, 18. Senator Kivi, 19, Senator Ambrosi, 31, Senator Jordanopolous, 2.”

  Even though Jordanopolous was disqualified, two senators, Sal and Jordanopolous, voted for him anyway. Janus let it go as it had no bearing on the top two vote-getters.

  “Senators Dalia Backus and Paul Ambrosi advance.” Janus said. “Let’s take a 15-minute break before round three.”

  Paul and Dalia were close friends. Dalia had been in the senate ten years before Paul joined. She helped Paul understand how the senate worked, who the influencers were, who was a buffoon. Paul told her about his parents’ deaths, his experience working with the pontiff, and his internal struggle with not having a desire for women, something he’d never told anyone about. Dalia talked about her children and grandchildren, how her husband adored her, and how she respected him. Dalia reminded Paul of his mother, and she saw Paul as one of her kids.

  The senate reconvened, with two chairs now on the stage to the right of the podium for Paul and Dalia. Janus approached the podium.

  “Senator Ambrosi, because you had the most votes from round two, you may choose the speaker order.” Janus said.

  “I would like to go first.”

  Janus removed his glasses. “As I mentioned at the beginning of the day, the process can be altered if I see fit. A significant skill the chairperson must possess is the ability to adapt to the unexpected. Rather than having five minutes to make your final appeal, you will only get one minute. And Senator Backus will go first.”

  Both Dalia and Paul had prepared five-minute speeches, neither planning to use notes. Even though they now had only 60 seconds, neither were rattled, and they took the changes
in stride. Dalia approached the podium, confident in her message.

  “Fellow senators, my intent in running for chairperson was to protect us from some of our colleagues who I felt would be bad for the Europe Ethnarchy. Whether it be corruption, favoritism, bias, or hatred of Israel, I wanted to be a voice of fairness for everyone in the ethnarchy. Fortunately for us all, Senator Ambrosi embodies the leadership and character traits the ethnarchy needs to succeed now and in the future. I know more than Paul the Senator, I know Paul the man. He would be a far better chairperson than I could ever hope to be. Therefore, I concede the contest to Senator Ambrosi, and I would like to be the first to congratulate now Chairperson Ambrosi. Congratulations, Paul!”

  Dalia left the podium and walked over to Paul. He stood from his chair and hugged his good friend. The room was silent. Never before had one of the top two candidates for chairperson conceded as part of their final appeal to the senate. Sal was in utter disbelief. “She rolled over without even going to a vote!” he thought. “He won by concession!” This was just more salt in the wound for Sal.

  Janus came to the podium. “Senator Backus, I accept your concession. Chairperson Ambrosi, would you still like to use your one minute?”

  “Yes.” Paul approached the podium. “Dalia, I never saw that coming!” Paul attempted to break the ice with the rest of the senate. Some gave it a chuckle, others were still shocked. “Fellow senators, I am humbled to serve as your chairperson. You have my commitment that I will work tirelessly to continue building on the greatness of the Europe Ethnarchy that Chairperson Dalca and the chairpersons before him have done so diligently. I will be the chairperson for all, not some, and vow to protect Europe’s interests over and above all others, including my own. I would like to thank Senator Janus for administering the election with integrity, and also would like to thank my old friend Senator Sal Carlotta for being such an inspiration to me since we were 14 at Naples Academy together. Thank you all very much.”

  The senators had recovered from the jolt of Dalia’s concession and gave Paul a standing ovation. Paul stood behind the podium looking out over the senate, loving the cheers.

  Janus approached the podium, grabbed Paul’s hand and lifted his hand above their heads. “Fellow senators, please join me in congratulating our new Chairperson, Paolo James Ambrosi!” While most of the senators continued cheering, Sal politely clapped, despising the fact that he not only lost to Paul but came in sixth in a field of seven.

  Janus left the senate room, went back to his office and closed the door instructing his assistant he wasn’t to be disturbed. He took the snifter of brandy on the credenza and poured himself a glass. He sat at his desk, took a sip, and pulled the bag used in round one from his left coat pocket. He pulled the last piece of paper from the bag, staring at the name, KUZMA. When Janus wrote the three names on the pieces of paper for the first drawing, he wrote KIVI on all three pieces, guaranteeing Kivi would be chosen in the first drawing. After Kivi’s name was announced and Janus put the bag behind the podium, he discreetly removed the last two pieces of paper with Kivi’s name on them, pulled two pieces of paper with Kuzma’s name from his left coat pocket, and put them in the bag. Kuzma’s name was guaranteed to be drawn because her name was on both pieces of paper; there was no way Sal was advancing. Ever since Sal hit on his wife at Dalca’s election party, Janus couldn’t stand the man, and this was his opportunity to get even with him. He took another sip of brandy, got up and walked over to his paper shredder, sliding the pieces of paper through it, destroying them for good. He then pulled the first round of ballots from his right coat pocket.

  “Let’s see what the vote really was,” he said to himself as he tallied the round one votes on a piece of paper. “Huh, the son-of-a-bitch would have made it to round two,” he thought as he put the ballots and hand-tally in the shredder. He then opened his credenza and pulled a second set of ballots which matched the fake tallies Janus gave during the vote. He walked out of the office with the bogus ballots and gave them to his assistant. “I accidentally took these with me, can you give them to the senate caretaker for archival?” He smiled knowing he not only kept Sal from the chairpersonship but humiliated him to boot.

  Dinner at the Palace

  2060

  T he palace butler was dressed in a black jacket, white formal shirt, black bow tie, gray vest, and white gloves. His footsteps echoed as he walked down the long hallway to the large foyer to answer the front door. He saw a well-dressed couple standing at the door.

  “I’m Caleb Todd, this is Angelique.”

  “Yes, Mr. Todd. Ma’am,” the butler said.

  The butler opened the door and stepped aside, and Caleb and Angelique walked into the chairperson’s palace, Paul’s new home. Paul arranged a dinner to celebrate his election with his three Academy friends.

  Caleb’s black tuxedo fit perfectly on his frame. He still had an aversion to wearing gray, stemming from his days of fearing guesting at Academy. As the butler helped Angelique off with her coat, he turned his head away in embarrassment, due to her skimpy black cocktail dress which did little to contain her shapely form from bursting forth. She smiled at Caleb as the blushing butler hung up her coat. Angelique was there as a trophy of his success, and she was paid well for it.

  As they followed the butler from the front door through the long hallway, Angelique was taken by the magnificence of the palace. A large chandelier with gold arms and crystal prisms hung in the palace entry, the reflection of its light bouncing off the polished white marble floors. The walls were emerald green, the ceiling made of scalloped gold tiles. Ornate tapestries hung on the left wall and portraits of Italy’s presidents and the Europe Ethnarchy chairpersons on the right. Henri Matisse’s Crucifix, on loan from the Vatican, stood on a platform between two of the tapestries. As they entered the parlor, they saw a portrait of the current Europe Ethnarchy chairperson, which had been hung the day before. Caleb looked at the portrait and said to Angelique, “That’s my cousin.”

  They went into the parlor, seeing another butler serving drinks to the waiting guests. Paul and Angelique sat down on a white Bugatti grain leather sofa where the butler approached them for their drink order.

  “Two Campari Spritz,” Caleb said.

  “Yes, Sir.” The butler went to the bar at one corner of the parlor to make the drinks. Caleb and Angelique sat on the couch facing the portrait of Paul. Angelique attempted to make small talk with Caleb, having only met one week earlier in Caleb’s private DarkRoom, the only one which couldn’t be recorded. Angelique was from Paris, one woman of hundreds vying to meet with him in his DarkRoom. As CEO of HoloMate, he became the person men wanted to be like and women wanted to be with, just as he dreamed as a 14-year-old with his imaginary friends at Villa Comunale. He flew Angelique to Rome in HoloMate’s private jet to accompany him to Paul’s dinner. She would later spend the night with him at his penthouse, then be flown back to Paris the next day.

  “Your Campari Spritz,” the butler handed Caleb and Angelique their drinks.

  “I can’t believe the chairperson is your cousin.” Angelique said.

  “Yes, one of the only relatives who cared about me when I was a nobody.”

  “He looks like a nice guy,” Angelique said.

  “If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have started HoloMate. He challenged me to solve the problem of loneliness, and I figured out how to do it and make gobs of money.”

  “So, he’s responsible for HoloMate?” she asked

  “For giving me the idea, but I built it.” Caleb was grateful to Paul but didn’t want to give him too much credit.

  Caleb turned toward the picture and saw two more people enter the room. “Hello, Senator,” Caleb said as he and Angelique rose to greet them.

  “Caleb.” Senator Carlotta and his date entered the room. Sal was perfectly put together in his Bottega Veneta tuxedo, royal blue bow tie, and matching pocket square. His date, Zola, was wearing an elegant royal blue dress that m
atched Sal’s tie and pocket square and tastefully accentuated her form. When they first met a year earlier, she showed a curious interest in him, his relationship with his parents, his love of his work. She found him physically attractive but was much more attracted to the vulnerable and sensitive man inside the cocky façade he typically displayed. He tried to add her picture to his phone but she made it clear she wasn’t going to sleep with him. She was old-fashioned in that she was saving herself for the man she married. With any other woman, Sal would have quit the pursuit if he knew he wasn’t going to get sex. But Zola was like no other woman he’d ever been with, one who seemed to truly be interested in him for who he was on the inside. It wasn’t long before they fell in love. He didn’t want to mess it up.

  Sal shook Caleb’s hand and continued, “This is my girlfriend Zola,” Sal said as he put his arm on Zola’s back. She had porcelain-doll skin, a long neck, with her auburn hair slicked back and twisted into a low bun. Her face was framed by bezel diamond dangle earrings with a matching diamond necklace.

  “It’s a pleasure, Zola. I’m Caleb Todd,” shaking her hand.

  “I’ve heard so much about you, Mr. Todd,” Zola said. “Sal says you’re the brains behind HoloMate. I use it all the time and love it.”

  “Thank you.” Caleb was so entranced by Zola he completely forgot about Angelique, who nudged his side to get his attention.

  “I’m sorry, this is Angelique.”

  Sal recognized Angelique from an encounter in a DarkRoom a year earlier before he started dating Zola. Little did Sal know that Caleb had been following Sal’s DarkRoom meetups. He met Angelique after seeing her with Sal. It was a weird hologram tryst triangle.

  Angelique let on as if she’d never met Sal. “Nice to meet you both.”