54: Chapter 54 The President's Resolve

In the conference room, the President looked at the large screen and said excitedly, "Guys, listen to me."

Four faces turned toward him.

"I learned a piece of vital intelligence yesterday." He pushed his phone aside. "The alien fleet threatening us is currently undergoing an internal power struggle."

"On one side are the hardliners, represented by the fleet Commander, who advocate using military deterrence to force our surrender. On the other side are the doves, represented by Chen Mu, who advocate for 'observing civilization' and peaceful rule."

"Right now, the hardliners have the upper hand. The decision to block out the sun today was made by the Commander, not Chen Mu. Chen Mu was only responsible for relaying the message."

The Leader of Mao Xiong narrowed his eyes. "Is your source reliable?"

"Chen Mu said it himself, through one of our own intelligence channels."

The President didn't mention Maya's name. "He also revealed that if Blue Star surrenders under deterrence, their Emperor will send someone from the Commander's faction to Blue Star to supervise Chen Mu, or even replace him."

The Leader of Mao Xiong's eyebrows twitched.

"What does this mean?" President Trump continued, his speaking speed picking up. "It means the Emperor isn't fully on the Commander's side."

"He's watching. Watching how humanity reacts. Watching to see which faction's approach is more effective. Our choice will directly influence their internal power structure."

"And this might be Blue Star's only chance."

The Leader of Mao Xiong tapped his finger heavily on the armrest of his sofa. "You mean instigate internal strife between them?"

"No." The President shook his head and stood up.

"Let's take a gamble. Tonight, I will invite Chen Mu here for a third round of negotiations. I will use the survival of Blue Star civilization to threaten that alien fleet, forcing them to hand over control to Chen Mu. Then, we'll negotiate based on the three proposals Chen Mu mentioned before."

"No," the Leader of Mao Xiong was the first to speak. "We don't have the right to decide the survival of Blue Star civilization, nor have the people granted us..."

"I know," the President interrupted him.

"I know what you're worried about. I know the other civilization might not care at all about our survival. I know all of Chen Mu's intelligence could be fake. I know the probability of this gamble succeeding might be lower than my chances for a third term. But I also know one thing."

He lifted his hands from the table, braced them against the armrests of his chair, and stood up straight.

"The five of us are the leaders of all human civilization. This is both a privilege and a responsibility."

"From the first day we sat in these chairs, this responsibility has weighed on our shoulders. In normal times, we can argue, sabotage each other, and say the harshest things to one another."

"But not today. Today, the sun was turned off and then on again. Today, the look in the eyes of eight billion people looking up at the sky is the same. They don't know if the sun will shine tomorrow."

His voice grew deep and powerful. "If the Emperor is truly balancing the two factions, then we have a chance to push Chen Mu back into power."

"If Chen Mu regains power, at least he is someone willing to talk. At least he won't block the sun for another thirty minutes tomorrow. At least he won't freeze our children to death in the next ice age."

After a moment of silence, one of the Permanent Five spoke first. "Let's be clear: if you fail, we will immediately issue a statement to the world, announcing that all your remarks were personal actions and do not represent the consensus of the human government."

"You must think this through. Afterward, you will be nailed to the pillar of historical shame, and your family likely won't be spared either."

The President was silent for a while, his voice surprisingly calm. "In my life, I came from a wealthy family, became richer than nations in my middle age, and in my later years, was elected by the people to this highest position."

"I've enjoyed everything I should enjoy. I've fought for everything I should fight for. I've never been a saint; I'm a businessman, a dirty politician."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "But since human civilization has never failed me, I want to do one last thing for humanity."

"If it works, perhaps human civilization will have a chance to break its chains and stand up again in the future."

"I know we often attacked each other over geopolitics and historical grudges. But in the face of the survival of human civilization, these are all just dust under the eaves. No one can stay out of it."

"If human civilization is truly a temple, then I, this guy in the White House who has been cursed for four years, am willing to be its final breakwater."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like an old bell being struck, the echo bouncing back and forth on the walls of the Situation Room.

The leader of France spoke first: "And what if it doesn't succeed?"

The President froze for a moment, then laughed with relief. "Not succeed? If it doesn't succeed, I'll just say I was bragging. It's not the first time I've slapped my own face, anyway. I know this sort of thing best."

Four faces with complex expressions appeared on the screen. They hadn't expected this usually unreliable old rival to be unexpectedly dependable at the critical moment of human civilization's survival.

"We've fought for so long." The Leader of Mao Xiong leaned back into his chair. "To be honest, Old Trump, I've never been able to see through you."

"You've said far too many things, but that last sentence, I believe it. If you can't make it in the United States anymore, you're welcome in Mao Xiong. At least there'll be plenty of Red Sausages."

The President grinned. "Of course."

He raised his right fist, holding it just above his shoulder. "After all, the only person who can defeat me is my future self."

The next moment, he raised his fist higher, above his shoulder, past the bottom-left corner of the Star-Spangled Banner hanging on the wall, and then thrust it sharply into the air.

"Long live human civilization!"

On the four screens, the four people looked at his raised fist. The scene was exceptionally awkward.

The President's hand froze in mid-air. "Come on!"

He opened his raised hand, palm up, as if coaxing a group of old friends who refused to clink glasses. "Guys, this might be our last meeting. Just play along with me."

The Leader of Mao Xiong looked at him, silent for a moment, then he also stood up and raised his right hand.

"Long live human civilization."

Then France, then John, and finally the Great East.

"Long live human civilization!"

Everyone's voices overlapped across the different delays of the encrypted satellite signals, uneven and ragged, like a choir without a conductor.

The screens went black one by one.

The President leaned back in his chair. The chair gave a soft creak.

He took out his phone and started posting on Twitter.

[Trump: At 8:00 PM tonight, I will begin a global video address from the White House conference room.]

[This is not a press conference, but a formal statement I owe all of you regarding my time as President of the United States.]

He laid his phone on the table.

Outside the window, the shouts of the protesters filtered through the bulletproof glass, as continuous as the ocean tide.

He looked up at the presidential seal painted on the ceiling—a Bald Eagle clutching arrows and an olive branch.

He had looked at this eagle for four years, and he had never felt that it could fly so far.