Presidential campaigns are not fun. They promise the possibility of radical change and the threat of constantly fluctuating polling numbers, but mostly elections are very boring. The vast majority of people will either decide in the three days before they enter the polling booth or the moment that their party does. Mostly, polling flux is a result of shy voters after embarrassing gaffes, not actually a function of changing opinions. The key is not to induce any major scandals in the last three days or during the nomination process and to make the same point no matter what question you're asked. This is a boring, thankless task, but you must do it every day from about seven in the morning to about nine at night.

I slipped into my house in the evening, having flown home from the swing state of Texas – Yeah, things are weird here, politically. Without the climate crisis or high oil demand and with the (relatively) cheap Extremis Formula cure-all, a lot of priorities have shuffled around and the GOP had gotten shellacked in Texas.

Andromeda walked up and kissed me and I held on for a moment before we sat down in the living room. "The kids are asleep," she said, putting her hand on my arm in a suggestive way.

I grinned at her but I was so dog-tired. I was tired all the time these days. And the day was only getting longer, "Can you bring me the box?"

Andromeda gave me a smile that was only barely brittle and got up to get it for me. I couldn't wear the crown in public – First of all, that would be a bad look. Second of all, Strange would come and get it from me if I did. Andromeda got back with the metal box and put it in front of me, "I'll get you something to eat," she said softly.

I opened the box and put on the crown, and felt my mind expand once again. Why was I wasting time on politics? I could be breaking the laws of physics over my knee, completely transforming Earth into a technological powerhouse. But I had to, because if I didn't, Hydra would make the attempt with or without me and they would probably fail. The international order we had created was already fraying and the United States was as open to authoritarian rule as it had been since Jim Crow but it wasn't enough to close the deal without a very careful threading of the needle.

"How have the infiltrators done with the CfL?" Andromeda asked as she brought me a plate of fresh strawberries and a glass of water.

"They're trying their best," I said, picking through the names in my head of CfL organizers and thinking of embarrassing facts or points of leverage before putting it down on a sheet of paper to remember. "But the CfL is doing less mass protests now and trying to redirect their energies more electorally."

"Pomares isn't much different than you," Andromeda pointed out.

"They're trying to cultivate more Senate and House allies," I said, "And it's, you know, free real estate" Andromeda didn't get the meme reference. "They're able to offer politicians actual votes – That goes a long way. And there's a lot of people who agree with them, even if they can't win this presidential election."

---

At the second debate, Pomares and I had slugged it out over the details of our tax plans, which were not quite tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum level similars but mostly reduced to 'Pomares will be good for your retirement account and Trent will be good for workers' income.' I was frustrated at how little credit I got for how all the stuff I and Hydra had done - People credited Ellis with a lot of the stuff that I did. One of the drawbacks of being part of a mass conspiracy, I guess. Now we were coming up to one of the hot topics of this universe's elections – Transhumanism.

"Mr. Trent, you've been one of the foremost advocates for transhumanism. What do you say to those who are anxious about the possibility of empowered individuals menacing the public?" the moderator, a reporter named Alex Harker.

"I think we already live in a world where enhanced individuals can do that," I said. Widespread supply of the Extremis Formula had made it so that you could get the power-up relatively cheap, though it was still easier to get C4. "I think we need to address the issue head on rather than trying to trim it down. In a world with abundant usage of the Super-Soldier serum, we'd have an abundant supply of potential protectors and people would be healthier, stronger, with more stable health. My wife has taken it and she'll tell you how useful it is for her family. A wonder treatment that makes you healthy, strong, and more energized to face the day isn't something that should be reserved for the government. It is my intention to deliver a future that works for you and what's more important to you than your health?"

Stolen novel; please report.

"Secretary Pomares, your response," Harker said.

Pomares was a Latina in late middle age, he wavy hair dyed black with a great deal of skill. She was wearing her standard skirt suit, a dark blue number with a button up blouse. "It's easy to talk about the upside, but what Mr. Trent is suggesting is a world where if you don't take the Serum, you're disadvantaged at every level and subject to immense physical danger. Today, Extremis cheaters are easily identified and disabled. In a world where that was open, it would be much harder to suppress. Don't let him sell you on this as an unambiguous good – Just like with his Osiris educations, we'll start to see people penalized because they don't want to take the treatment. It won't be some innocent event – It'll be you take the Serum or you and your family wind up out on the street. It'll be an excuse to cut off your healthcare, to turn you down for work – Especially if you make your living by the sweat of your brow, something he might appreciate if he'd ever done it."

"She's lying," I said. There were rules at these things, but there was no reason to follow them. Nobody was going to vote on if you were polite to your opponent two months before they cast their ballot.

"Mr. Trent, please don't interrupt."

"Mr. Trent has a well known allergy to the truth," Pomares said. "Especially about his inventions."

I shook my head and laughed a little for the debate spit screen, "You're so full of…" I said and then held up my hands in surrender.

Pomares was a smart operator and took it in stride. She was a tough opponent, but she was a little too stiff for most people – She'd gotten into politics when the bars for women were higher and she'd adapted by sheer personal discipline. You could hear her thinking before she said anything, judging, considering. In my opinion, that's a positive – You don't want a president who shoots off at the mouth. But boy, do Americans hate it when people think before they speak.

"Secretary Pomares," Harker said, turning to her for the next question and we were back to the races.

---

The big party at the end of an election had disappointed me before. But I needed there to be a big party for this one too. It was a close race, one or two points of error could swing it for or against me, so I didn't have to have the crushing certainty of failure surrounded by optimists. So I was drifting around, focusing on thanking people and plotting how to survive the disaster if I lost had to go back to the Heads empty-handed on this one.

Victor came up to me in the middle of it, bringing drinks – A beer for him and a Dr. Pepper, "You've carried the Rust Belt," he said and I felt tension go out of my shoulders. Forward progress. "The old oil states look against you, though. Lost in Florida."

That meant Texas was out too. "Unfortunate," I said, taking a drink of the Dr. Pepper.

"I'm going to be devastated if you lose again," Victor said, taking a drink of his beer. "This is a whole new world you've built, I can't think of anyone better to watch over it."

I smiled and nodded, continuing to mill. Once the totals started rolling in in the West, I knew instantly how I was doing. I looked out over the crowd, as of yet unaware of what was coming, and then I got the pleasure of watching the wins roll in. I took Andromeda aside and kissed her before California officially closed and it sealed the deal for me. She smiled, "I told you."

"You were right," I said, grinning and then watching on the screen as the announcement came through.

"With no apparent upsets in the Pacific States," the reporter said at around midnight pacific. "We are confident enough now to announce that Michael Trent will be the next President of the United States."