A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [183]
“I had control of the greatest single invention in the history of mankind. I thought we’d hit the ground running,” Thornton said. “What the fuck happened?”
“I could sure go for a Bloody Mary,” Darnell said.
“Go ahead. You don’t have to be on the reviewing stand. What the fuck happened?”
The first sip was good, the second sip delicious.
“Well?” Thornton pressed.
“You know, Thornton, people are driven by this machine, our personalities. We obey it even when we don’t know what we are doing. Our personality always tells us we are right. We cannot understand clashing with someone else’s personality who tells us we are wrong. That’s how you became a president. But, hell, your engine took you exactly where you wanted to go.”
“Then why am I so overjoyed?” Thornton snarled.
“That personality drove you to earning twenty-five billion dollars, the American presidency, and for a fleeting moment you nearly gained control of all the king’s horses and all the king’s men.”
“I had it right here,” he said, showing his fist. Darnell turned his eyes away. “Didn’t I?”
“The people didn’t think so, Thornton. Greed is endemic but when the time came to have the Lincoln Memorial sponsored by Nathan’s hot dogs, they shamed.”
Thornton tried to understand.
“We name our children after our father and mother, or an aunt or a hero. We bury our dead in green lawns and bring fresh flowers to keep their sainted memory. We weep on bad days of remembrance of our family. We toil for them. We are tender to our aged. And we fight them tooth and nail.”
“And…?”
“I haven’t cried for a dead computer,” Darnell said. “Men like us, who were there at the beginning, should have taught computers their proper place, before they gained control over the morals of half the human race.”
“Hasn’t that always been the game?” Thornton asked. “The irresistible personality in man driving us to wars. So, what do we do, Darnell?”
“We may think we’re hot stuff now, but we’ve a lot of catching up to become as great as we have been in our past. Fortunately, there is a lot to draw on.”
Thornton Tomtree paled. “And Quinn O’Connell personifies our past greatness…and…the way to the future. That son of a bitch. You said I had no control over the drive of my personality.”
“That’s right, Thornton.”
Pucky entered. “The O’Connells are arriving. We should meet them at the front door.”
“This tea is a pretty shitty tradition, if you ask me,” Thornton said, creaking out of his seat. “What the hell do we talk about?”
“Oh, the Denver Broncos,” Darnell said, “O’Connell is a Bronco junky.”
* * *
“I, Quinn Patrick O’Connell do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
In all the heavens we know of and all the heavens we know nothing of, can there be a more almighty event to befall a single, lone person?
The thousands arrayed before him in chilled air did not budge.
“I have come to you for about a year to listen to your aspirations and to present you with my vision of the future. You have told me, resoundingly, that now is time for America to travel the high road. The high road requires of every citizen to lend their energy to one gigantic swell for progress and decency….”
Quinn reviewed the things he wanted to bring to America, always with reference to the most generous and decent people in the world.
And, in a few moments, because it was very cold, he concluded on his lofty theme, knowing he will be fought all the way, but daring those who would turn him back or those whose robber hearts who would take the planet down.
“The human race,” Quinn said, “has functioned from its first day on the proposition that some people are superior to others and thus empowered to rule and exploit those people of lesser stuff. Humanity is often mistaken as civility. Humans have always been somewhat less than human. Well then, how do we score this game? Every so often a MORAL IMPERATIVE demands that we must alter