“Except survival is just that,” said an older senator. “It doesn’t mean we won’t be sending our boys home in a coma, or missing their arms and legs.”
“That’s better than a body bag,” she countered.
“Are we limiting this to military and federal positions?” asked another. “I imagine police departments and other high-risk jobs will want to follow suit.”
The president had been listening intently in silence, but his task force seemed to be hurtling toward a powerful consensus. He needed to weigh in.
“All right,” he said, raising a cautious hand. “I agree with what you’re saying, but there need to be limitations. We’re the United States, not China or North Korea. We’d never get away with requiring everyone to open their boxes and tell us what’s inside. Plus, if we allow this to spill over into every industry, I’m afraid there’ll be no jobs left for short-stringers.”
“What do you propose, sir?”
“A compromise,” said the president. “We require string disclosures for active-duty military personnel, FBI field agents, and government officials with the highest security clearances. But everything else stays the same. At least for now.”
A few days later, Katherine rejoined her husband in suburban McLean, where they had purchased a relatively modest four-bedroom house after Anthony’s election to Congress.
“I still can’t believe the president himself called you in,” Katherine said breathlessly. “He must think you’re going to win.”
“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves,” said Anthony. “We’ve still got a long way to go. The president simply recognized the truth, that I was the only one brave enough to say publicly what a lot of others have been thinking already.”
Safely inside their living room walls, Anthony divulged what he could to his curious wife, without sharing too many specifics.
“There are going to be some changes,” Anthony said. “But the people like us will be just fine.”
“We’ll be better than fine.” Katherine grinned.
And Anthony couldn’t help but agree with her.
Maura
The changes were announced in a televised White House press conference on a Friday night at the end of June.
Maura and Nina had been waiting for the twice-delayed conference to begin, distracting themselves by watching one of those crime procedurals known for picking plot lines out of the news. The show itself had just made headlines by becoming the first television series to introduce the strings into its fictive universe, and Maura was stunned to watch the episode unfold, the team of police officers hunting down two vicious short-stringers on a crime spree, leading to the climactic shoot-out where they both lost their lives. A portrayal that wouldn’t do any good for short-stringers in the real world, she thought.
Nina seemed just as upset by the story, fidgeting on the couch before switching channels, where the president of the United States finally appeared on-screen amid the muffled coughs of reporters and a few camera flashes. Flanked at the podium by senior members of the military and the FBI, he announced his most sweeping executive order to date: the Security and Transparency in Appointing and Recruiting Initiative, or the “STAR” Initiative for short. A similar bill would likely be introduced in Congress soon, but the attack on the Capitol had made it clear, the president argued, that immediate action was warranted.
“They must know that people will be angry,” Nina said after the conference had ended. “That’s why they announced it on a Friday night. They’re hoping there’ll be less media coverage on a weekend, and maybe people won’t pay as much attention. As if that could ever happen.”
Maura stayed quiet, taking it in, while Nina rambled on anxiously. “I mean, I did hear that the primary debate had shifted the conversation in Congress,” she said, “but I can’t believe that it’s gotten this far, this fast.”
Nina looked at Maura. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
“Am I okay?” Maura asked. “First I have to watch that smear campaign against short-stringers masquerading as a TV show, and now this? The president just created two classes of citizens, based on strings.”
It was clear Nina didn’t know how to respond. “I know that the cop show was . . . not good, but I don’t think this STAR Initiative could be that bad,” she said reassuringly.
Maura pushed herself up off the couch. “It’s all part of the same problem!” she yelled.