Chapter 24: Belmontenegro Grand Hall


Jackson looked around from behind his podium. He was being filmed and photograbbed from more devices than he could count. Everyone was looking at him. 


The crowd was the largest he’d ever seen. And from what he was told by Arn, there were lines out every door from people waiting to get in. They were mostly humans, but a good portion of the in-person audience was made up of alien races (21.54% to be exact). And the most notable portion of that portion, was made up of Byzongs. Not three minutes earlier, the Grand Hall was echoing with the sound of some of the most prestigious, and heavy-booted Byzongs in existence. 


Impressive pillars lined the green and gold walls, and the ceiling was covered in a series of paintings from a bygone era of Earth. It was a breathtaking venue, befitting the nature of the moment. Indeed, there is truly no better place for historic events than the Grand Hall of the Belmontenegro (also open to the private bookings from any wealthy and prominent figures looking for a spot for their next celebration).


Off-stage to his right were Arn, Tarza, Dusty, and Plod. They smiled at him supportively as he began to sweat for a third time. He was fanning his armpits when he heard the clank of loud boots to his left.


Arriving at the empty podium was President Racha. Off-stage to his left, Jackson saw Inquisitor Slah, the Boss of Ships, and a group of dark-hooded figures that he could only assume were representatives from Those in Charge. They brought with them a chill in the air. Jackson couldn’t put his finger on why, but he felt a vague and increased sense of danger. In actuality, what he was sensing in the air was a combination of Nickel, Cobalt, and an as-yet undiscovered-on-Earth element known as Erridiox, whose presence will be explained in a subsequent chapter.


President Racha gave an-almost-too-big-for-her-face smile, and nodded at Jackson. He noticed that, behind her, Inquisitor Slah and the Boss of Ships seemed offended by his presence, even though this was a debate featuring just two humans, and he was one of them. But even more notable than the Erridiox, large Racha smile, and Byzong glares, was the absence of Destiny Withers.


“Folks and Friends! We are ready to begin!” said an absolutely booming voice from a table set above and amidst the crowd. “I am Fazion Col, and I will be your moderator for this evening.” Jackson squinted his eyes to see the source of the voice. Fazion was wiry, with a thick mane of auburn hair bigger than any Earth lion’s. He wore a bright blue blazer and had on shiny gold glasses with rims that seemed to spin and sparkle as he moved his head.


“Fazion is a fair moderator,” Jackson heard Arn say in his ear. “This is good news for you.”


“Tonight is the first of its kind. A special election debate to decide whether President Racha will remain in office, or whether she will be replaced by Shouty Freckles… Excuse me, I’ve been informed that Shouty’s real name is Theodore Fickle.”


“I prefer Jackson,” said Jackson. His voice rang harshly throughout the Grand Hall, with an ear-piercing spike from the amplification system at his podium. He didn’t know where the courage came from for him to issue the correction on his name- to be the first to speak from the stage in such a high stakes situation, but, as of late, he was beginning to become accustomed to being surprised by his own bravery, and in that way, becoming more comfortable with his bravery, leading to more surprises of bravery, that were less surprising. This type of positive action leading to positive effects leading to positive actions is sometimes known as a “Virtuous Circle”. But, as Jackson has never heard of that term, he would later refer to it as “The Snowball Effect, But In A Good Way, If That Makes Sense”.


“Sorry,” said Jackson, with an even louder spike. The crowd covered their ears.


President Racha gave a smile to her team off-stage.


As Fazion recovered from the sound, he continued. “We’ll get the sound fixed on Mr. Jackson Fickle’s podium.”


“Just Jackson,” he corrected again. Already, the sound was fixed.


“Very well. The debate between President Racha and Jackson will consist of just five questions, each sent in by potential voters here on Earth. After each candidate has had a chance to answer, we will give the planet two minutes to cast their votes via their smart orbs.*”


*smart orbs are a general term used for the flowable-size devices most humans carry on them during their day-to-day activities in order to connect to each other and other solar systems. This is being explained both for non-Earthlings who connect via a different network and device, and for future Earthlings who may find these devices, and therefore this term, to have become outdated as technology advances.


“They’re going to vote right after??” said Jackson, in a terrified and now perfectly amplified voice.


President Racha let out a slight laugh this time.


“I will ask the candidates to please refrain from any more interruptions,” said Fazion.


“Don’t worry,” said Arn. “You’ve got this.”


Jackson had spent a great deal of his childhood, and a not-insignificant chunk of his adulthood wishing that he had never met Arn Brule. Now, hearing his voice in his ear as his sole support during the most nerve-wracking and stress-inducing event of his life, Jackson was unsure what to think. The sweat raced through his shirt. That the sweat had not yet reached his brown corduroy blazer, that Arn had provided him with, stating it would make him seem “intelligent but approachable”, was a temporary comfort. 


“We will begin with a question from Margaret Myscon from Pittsburgington,” said Fazion. “Margaret asks: what would your plan be to help people if the housing bubbles burst. Jackson, we will start with you.”

“Ok, so the first thing you need to–” Arn started to help but Jackson cut him off by whispering, “I’ve got this one”. Jackson had read and heard plenty about past housing crises and felt this was one question he could handle just fine.


He answered, cooly and confidently, for two whole minutes, talking about relief measures, tougher regulations for financial entities, and proactive private and public partnerships. He cited leading experts, and even told a light-hearted and heart-warming story about his mom’s first house purchase. When he was finished, he smiled to the crowd, like a true politician. By all indications, he could not have been prouder.


He looked over and saw Arn’s jaw wide open. He did not know yet that Arn’s stunned reaction was not one of awe-filled admiration, but disappointed disbelief.


“Ahem, and President Racha?” said Fazion.


“I would activate the emergency air valves and order the immediate rebuilding of the bubbles with greater reinforcement. But, it would be a whole lot easier to deal with if there wasn’t so much water around them,” she said with a wink.


In his haste, Jackson had misheard the question, believing it to be about a figurative and financial “housing bubble” bursting. In fact, Margaret had been asking about literal “bubbles with houses in them” bursting. As more and more of Earth’s land was developed, the world government took to creating underwater bubbles to fit homes and sometimes even whole neighborhoods. At the time of the debate, 7% of the population currently resided inside a bubble.


“Thank you, President Racha. I must say, I have never done such a thing as a moderator before, but I feel compelled to deem your answer correct, and Jackson’s… not correct.”


There were murmurs and chuckles from the crowd.


“You have got to start listening to me,” pleaded Arn.


“I’m… I’m sorry,” whispered Jackson.


“Question two comes to us from a father and son, Tom and Jesse. They’d like to know what each of you consider to be your greatest strengths. President Racha, we will start with you.”


“I believe my greatest strength is that I’m a born leader, Fazion. I single-handedly navigated our planet through the Milky Way Scandal, the Jupiter Gas Shortage, and the terrible Solar Dust Storm. That is why I believe that my resume speaks for itself, as opposed to my opponent, whose resume could only land him a job as the Personal Assistant to the Non-Personal Assistant to the Executive Assistant to… well, me.”


Jackson sweated through to the blazer.


“And Jackson?” asked Fazion.


“Well, um…” he said.


“Tell them that you’re a listener,” said Arn.


“I’m a, um, listener,” Jackson said. President Racha scoffed. 


Jackson repeated every word that he heard in his ear. “I never presume to know someone just from a name. Just from a face. Just from the city or planet they come from. I listen to their stories, their problems, and their dreams. I listen to the things that they’ve been shouting for too long without being heard. And when it comes time, I’m not afraid to be their voice and shout for them. It’s why I interrupted that APB, it’s how I went from the Personal Assistant to the Non-Personal Assistant to the Executive Assistant to The President of Earth to being on stage with her, and it’s why I won’t back down to anyone who tries to take our oceans away- not Byzongs, not President Racha, not anyone!”


To Jackson’s surprise, he heard scattered claps. He looked at Arn and gave an appreciative nod. Tarza smiled proudly.


“I’ll ask you all to hold your applause please,” said Fazion. “That leads me to the next question, which comes to us from Juliet Ja. She asks: would you sell our water to the Byzongs? Why or why not? Jackson, please go first.”


“I would not,” repeated Jackson from Arn. “Oceans are a part of what makes Earth, Earth. They are integral to more aspects of life here than I can possibly list. They are arguably the most important resource we will ever have. They gave us life, they allow us to thrive, and they are the landscape of our existence. And, as I was just now reminded… a whole lot of people live inside them in bubbles!”


The crowd laughed. Jackson looked over sheepishly as Tarza gave him a thumbs up. “It’s working” she mouthed.


“President Racha?”


“It’s a nice story. But I grew out of fairytales a long time ago. Didn’t you?” President Racha leaned in on the podium. “Sure, oceans served a purpose, no one can deny that. We used to need them for food. For energy. For transportation. But, what have they done for you lately? Did you know that salt water actually makes the air stink? And only a small portion of the ocean is suitable for housing bubbles. Just think of how many people could have beautiful homes if we got rid of the water and built neighborhoods directly on the sea floor! I bet each of you in here could have a mansion!”


The crowd began to cheer.


“Silence, please” said Fazion.


“Besides, beaches are always so sandy. Sand gets all over everything. And don’t even get me started on the sharks!! They could be anywhere in there. Who knows where they are?!” President Racha shook her head solemnly. “No, it is my duty as President to make sure that our planet reaches its full potential, and that means getting rid of those oceans that have been getting in our way for far too long. It may be the most important thing I’ve ever done. To be honest, if I wasn’t forced to defend myself against this assistant, I’d have signed the papers and we’d all be celebrating right now. So ask yourself, what would you rather have, a mansion or a bunch of sharks swimming around your planet!”


“Thank you. Question four comes to us from Lalapazoola. Pierre St. Pepperton writes: why should I vote for you over the other one? … Huh, kind of a basic question, but I will remind you that we had only hours to prepare for this. Jackson, why don’t you go first again.”


Arn took a deep breath. “Ok Jackson, it’s time to unleash our secret weapon. Tell them about the black hole.”


“Really?” he whispered. 


“Trust me,” said Arn.


“So, um, recently I was eating a sandwich and my ship got hooked by a Byzong warship and I was pulled through a black hole.”


The crowd gasped and murmured. 


“It was a pretty unique experience, to be honest, and I guess you could say it’s what started the whole adventure that led me here.”


President Racha looked at him with confusion.


“Go on,’ said Fazion with great interest.


“Well, yeah so, it’s kind of hard to describe what it’s like, but when you go through a black hole you leave the other side feeling kinda… different. And I’ll never forget the taste that it left in my mouth.”


“Ask President Racha if she’s been in a black hole before,” said Arn.


Jackson didn’t hesitate this time. “Have you ever been in a black hole before, President Racha?”


The crowd turned their heads towards her.


“What?” This time, she began to sweat.


“You haven’t then?” asked Jackson.


She laughed and scoffed at the same time.


“I… I don’t have to answer your questions,” she said.


“Well, it just seems to me that the people of Earth deserve a leader who knows what it’s like to travel through a black hole and make it out the other side.”


“That’s absurd,” she said, looking and acting more than a bit perturbed. 


“Is it?” asked Jackson.


“I don’t…. I mean you can’t really… Who cares whether I’ve been through a black hole or not!” she shouted.


“President Racha, I think we’d all—” started Fazion.


“Why is he even up here! He’s an assistant to an assistant!!” she continued shouting. “No one even knew his name a week ago!!”


“That’s a whole lot of words without an answer,” said Jackson.


President Racha turned to Jackson. “How dare you!! I’m the President!! And you’re nothing!!” she snarled.


“Now there’s no call for—” said Fazion, before getting cut off again.


“It’s a stupid question!! No one else has gone through a black hole!! No one!!”


“She’s doing our job for us,” said Arn into Jackson’s ear.


“Enough games!! I have important things to do!! Like selling Earth’s water!! Now do your job and ask the last question, Fazion. Or I’ll have you fired.” The President was breathing heavily, with fury in her eyes.


Fazion took a moment. He cleared his throat, then calmly tossed aside the slip in his hand. “I’ve decided that the last question will be my own… President Racha, do you know what taste a blackhole leaves in your mouth?”


President Racha was fuming. She tossed her head to the side and scoffed and huffed. “How could I possibly know that?!”


Fazion turned to Jackson. “And Jackson, do you know what taste a blackhole leaves in your mouth?”


“Peppermint.”


Two minutes later Jackson was elected President of Earth.