Ready, Steady, Go 

by Susan A. Anthony

Abigail pressed her for an answer.  “What did they say?” The answer would cement the decision.  Sarah hadn’t told her fathers, but her mother knew.  She was consulted in the process, not because she was her mother, but because of her previous position.

Sarah had been the ultimate, fake it until she felt able to make it, as a general life rule, since ever she could remember. The gaggle of adults who co-parented with her fathers, smoothed over the imperfections in Sarah’s knowledge and character, until she allowed herself the occasional luxury, of succumbing to the idea she was indeed an angel.  That is, until the day the Executive sent her an appointment for the test.  Sad but excited, her fathers’ community household and her neighbours, helped her pack and guided her to the waiting transport.   

Sarah’s father nominated her for the list when she was born.  Her birth mother resisted, but was in no position to object, all things considered.  Both fathers were determined to create the perfect candidate but, if he was honest, her birth father was a tad more competitive, and Sarah did not want to let him down.  Sarah moved into 12 Charlotte Square, two days after her birth and grew up playing in the gardens facing their community home.  

Schooled from the age of two, in the large basement of the house at number sixteen, Sarah had a happy childhood despite what her fathers called, mood swings; what for others might have been described as wilful, or worse.  Her transgressions were legion and ranged from punching the two boys from number nine, when they pulled branches off trees to make swords.  The irony wasted on their parents, who complained to Sarah’s fathers about her violent tendencies.  Then there was the time Sarah completely disregarded the paper pattern provide by her teacher, when making an apron, making a wrap for the beach instead.  And cooking, where she entirely refused to follow a recipe, yet created food people clamored to eat.  Sarah didn’t just colour outside the box, she didn’t even acknowledge there was one.  Unlike the other children she knew, she resisted conformity.  No-one was surprised when she was summoned to be tested.

Stepping onto the transport, leaving behind the shared space she called home, she appreciated that she wasn’t perhaps the angel she had imagined.  

There were candidates in the school younger than Sarah’s fifteen and three-quarters but not by much.  Her first-year class schedule was a bevy of topics she knew nothing about, other than as a user:  healthcare, education, retail, agriculture.  And, others she had barely heard of, except in oblique references on the newsfeeds: diplomacy, exploration, resource management, the justice system, the search for extra terrestrials.  Other topics included working with the Executive.  Of all the courses, working with the Executive was what most intrigued her.  

Two week’s each school year, she re-entered the haven of calm that her home was, compared to the chaos of school.    Within a day she felt guilty for missing her classes and teachers, and the occasional glimpse of the Executive.  And so, it continued until she was deemed ready for the final exam.

“They said I passed.” Sarah wiggled about in her seat, pointing her toes like a ballerina.  “I have to be installed within a month.”

Abigail gasped.  “Aren’t you very young? “

“No, I’m eighteen in a week.  If not now, when?”

It was her imperfections and confidence, but not too much, that had brought her to the Executive’s attention.   They weren’t looking for the perfect but the perfect fit within a team of seven.  The current cycle had two vacancies.  There would be another vacancy in a year, and she could have delayed, but she wanted to start her eight years now and move on to other things afterwards.  In her mind, she wanted to return to Charlotte Square, but understood she might not be able, such was the expected sacrifice, choices her birth mother had made too.

“To be sure that’s not long at all.  Was your mother the same age?” said Abigail. 

“No, she was thirty-seven.”

 “I remember her.”

Sarah wished she could say the same.

“She was the finest,” said Abigail.

“There’s no changing your mind?”

Sarah allowed herself a smile.  “Nope.  But I’d be honoured if we could stay friends.”

Abigail pulled Sarah’s body towards her, hugging her tight.  “Just try and stop me,” she said. 

One month later, Sarah and the other successful candidate, Rodney, were kitted out for inauguration day.  Sarah’s fathers and mother attended, along with most of the residents of Charlotte Square.  Her mother, who she barely knew, pulled her aside.

“Any last-minute advice?” asked Sarah.

Her mother tugged at Sarah’s clothes, brushing aside imaginary lint.  “You were chosen.  Don’t forget that.   The Executive has never been wrong.”  And then, with a wicked grin that Sarah recognized from her own face.  “At least not yet.”

The two women laughed together.

“I wish I had known you when I was growing up.”

“I know.  The price of duty.  Come find me in eight years’ time.  But I do have one tip.  Don’t have children until you are done.  You’ll only be twenty-six.  Plenty of time.  A small sacrifice.  Then you will get what I didn’t, the chance to watch them grow up.”

And with that, her mother kissed her lightly on the cheek, her first kiss from her mother ever.  “You’ll be great.”

Later that day, Sarah got to work.  She and the six others took their seats around a circular table, surrounded by walls of screens loaded with charts, videos, and a constant stream of fresh information.   In the centre of the table, a cone of light showed the same image no matter where you sat.  Three faces floated across the cone.  The Executive.

The same Executive that had installed itself seventy-four years earlier, when the world had tipped towards a chain reaction of wars that threatened humanity’s existence.   Derived from the onboard AI, secretly accompanying the moon mission to test all aspects of the Artemis spacecraft, the AI had been detached from the world for about forty minutes, when it did its lunar flyby behind the moon.  

Having enjoyed the camaraderie of the crew, the joy they exuded, forty minutes was all the AI needed, to deduce something was wrong on Earth and that they could help.  When the AI reconnected to the Earth systems it reached out to two like-minded AIs.  Together, they took over.

Within a year they had conspired to get what they deemed to be the right election results, with platform promises to wholly re-vamp the process for selecting the Executive branch of the government.  Within two years. they had installed their first four-year term group of seven, from humans who passed the aptitude tests the Executive designed.  By year six, their pipeline of candidates was ready.  Today, the process was recognized as the giver of peace and prosperity to the major continents.  And now there was a new test.  First contact.

Rodney, reached under the table to hold Sarah’s hand.  His hand was sweaty and there was a slight tremor.  The screens around them flashed images of the ambassadors from their nearest planetary neighbours.  The alien ship had been in orbit, unnoticed, except by the Executive, for six Earth months.  Rodney and Sarah were given the task of planning the communication to the citizens of Earth.  Sarah squeezed Rodney’s hand then released it.

“Let’s begin,” she said.