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Taniwha is the 52nd state of the United States of America. Taniwha is a volcanic island located at 28 degrees north latitude and 177 degrees east longitude. Population: 753,000 people. Population density: 16.19 people per square kilometer. State area: 46,510 square kilometers.
Taniwha was first colonized by Polynesians who arrived from Hawaii sometime in the 11th century. The second colonizers were Russians with Inuits and Aleuts, who built Petrovsky Redoubt and procurement cooperatives that, like the indigenous inhabitants, engaged in fishing and timber harvesting. Later, a port and shipyard were built in Petrovsky Redoubt to produce ships directly on the island. In 186, two years before the sale of Alaska, the colony was deemed unprofitable and sold to the United States, becoming a self-governing territory. Subsequently, due to its military-strategic value, it became the object of intelligence operations by the United States, the Soviet Union, Japan, and China. In 2031, Taniwha, simultaneously with Puerto Rico, was admitted as a U.S. state as part of the “Constitutional Compact,” when a temporary alliance between Robert Kennedy Jr.’s neoconservative “We the People” party and Gennady Stolyarov II’s Transhumanist Party of the United States, in order to entrench the two-party system behind the new parties, launched a radical restructuring of the United States of America.
State population composition:
25% – indigenous Taniwhans
20% – Americans of European descent
17% – Americans of Russian descent
14% – African Americans
8% – Americans of Latin American descent
6% – Chinese
4% – Japanese
3% – Hawaiians
1% – Drakians
0.7% – Inuit
0.3% – Aleuts
1% – others (including one cybernetic advisor to the governor)
According to estimates by “Shenggong-Sociology,” 12.4% of the population are cyborgs (have at least one implant), and 2.7% are meta-humans (mostly residing in the city of Newport, which has 9,327 residents, of whom 7,897 are meta-humans—i.e., individuals who have undergone body-modification procedures and acquired a new appearance ranging from more animal-like to fantastical).
The state is in the zone of interest of three corporations: Morph Inc (headquartered in Los Angeles), Pryanikoff (headquartered in Leningrad), and Chenggong (headquartered in Seoul). During Free Human Day in Petrocity (formerly Petrovsky Redoubt), Pryanikoff’s military shipyard was destroyed by the Drakian space fleet. The land of the former shipyard, which was state-owned, was subsequently purchased by the company “Morph Inc – Military.”
[[Alright, alright, tone down the lore overload! We get it: it’s an alternate future where people can mod their bodies, humanity’s out there cruising the stars, and we’ve run into other sentient species: Drakians and cybernetics. So why shove in some random island? Just so the author can slap on the “any resemblance is purely coincidental” disclaimer? Man, what a coward move. Come on, author, step up! Throw in some actual action to make up for these dry-ass analytical reports. Right now it’s boring even for a political game.]]
<<set $p to 0>>
<<playlist play volume 0.10>>Okay! You want action, you'll get action.
The thunderclap jolted you awake.
You cracked your eyes open, fighting wind and horizontal rain. The once-peaceful beach had become a battlefield of towering waves and flying sand. With every crash, the ocean seemed to swallow the island chunk by chunk; soon even the massive volcano at its heart would be gone.
Speaking of the volcano… the giant had woken up.
Impossible, but true. Thick plumes of smoke poured from the crater, whipped away by hurricane-force winds. Worse: lava was already creeping out of the summit. You could clearly see the ash-grey conifers on the ridge catching fire, torching one by one. Soon the flames would race down the slope—past the palms, straight toward the city. Toward Newport…
[[I have to get there, help my neighbors!]]"YOU WON’T MAKE IT," a roar like living thunder rolled across the entire island. The voice was everywhere. You spun, searching, until you saw it: an enormous winged creature rocketing toward you straight out of the volcano’s mouth.
"Who are you?" you shouted into the storm.
Despite the chaos and distance, the lizard-like being heard you.
"TANIWHA. AND YOU?"
[[I’m human]]
[[I’m an eagle]]
[[I’m thunderbird]]"YOU WON’T MAKE IT IF YOU REMAIN ONLY HUMAN. YOU WON’T REACH THEM ON FOOT. YOU NEED WINGS."
You looked at your hands. The skin on your wrists was already shifting, hardening into dark, scaled plating. Nails lengthened into talons. Black feathers erupted across your forearms and shoulders. Then came the new sensation—two brand-new limbs unfolding from your back. Instinct told you one pair was for soaring, the other for steering. You had exactly one chance to figure them out, or everyone dies.
"NOW YOU CAN FLY. BUT WHAT THEN? YOU DON’T RUN FROM THE STORM—YOU FIGHT IT."
Power surged through you. The horned serpent, the dragon, had opened your eyes. You felt the storm like it was part of your own bloodstream. Lightning was lashing the sea and the island because it had no master. Only one kind of spirit could tame it and protect the people beneath: thunderbirds.
You kicked off the sand, climbed higher and higher until you were wingtip-to-wingtip with Taniwha. The storm raged harder, bolts now striking the cities themselves. You focused—and everything went still.
The thunder stopped. Rain poured in sheets. Clouds swarmed the volcano like a living thing, trying to cool it. But even you knew all the water in the world wouldn’t be enough to kill that fire.
"MY TURN," Taniwha said.
He reached out with some unseen force and slowed the lava to a crawl. Rain hissed into steam, then won. The flow halted, cooled, hardened into black stone.
"THANK YOU, THUNDERBIRD."
[[Thank you, Taniwha.]]“YOUR WINGS ARE ONLY GOOD FOR ESCAPE SO FAR. YOU CAN DO MORE, THUNDERBIRD.”
You stared at your rapidly changing hands. Once human, they now ended in razor talons; scales had replaced skin on your wrists, while the rest of your body sprouted glossy black feathers. You brushed a hand across your face and felt the hard curve of a beak. Perfect.
But what did this horned serpent—this dragon—mean? Thunderbird? You were just a regular…
“EAGLE? HUMAN? SOME HALF-BREED? NO. YOU CAN BECOME SO MUCH MORE. IF YOU ACCEPT BEING CHOSEN…”
Chosen by what? Power slammed into you like a second heartbeat. Raw, sky-splitting power meant only for those entrusted to protect. Chosen by the island itself. If you were picked to defend it, then you would defend it—at any cost.
You launched skyward again, climbing until you were level with Taniwha. Lightning clawed at the cities now. You narrowed your eyes, reached out, and seized the storm with your mind.
Silence.
The thunder died. Torrential rain replaced the chaos, clouds swirling obediently toward the volcano, desperate to cool it. But even you knew no amount of water could smother that inferno alone.
“MY TURN.”
Taniwha flexed some invisible muscle. The lava slowed to a lazy crawl; rain hissed into steam and finally won. The flow froze solid.
“THANK YOU, THUNDERBIRD.”
[[Thank you, Taniwha.]]Your reply surprised even you.
The winged, horned serpent shot forward, snatched you in his massive talons, and rocketed higher into the clearing sky.
“AMBITIOUS, ARE WE? GOOD. AMBITION CAN CREATE… OR DESTROY. IF YOU CAN MASTER YOUR CHANGES, YOU WILL SAVE THIS ISLAND.”
Master your changes? You were literally feeling them happen. Your new wings and tail throbbed where his claws gripped you. Then, without warning, he let go.
“THEY SAY DON’T BE AFRAID TO JUMP OFF THE CLIFF—JUST GROW THE WINGS ON THE WAY DOWN. HAHAHA!”
Any other day you’d be flailing, screaming, trying to swim through thin air.
Instead you twisted your head toward the onrushing earth, grinned with your brand-new beak, and snapped your wings wide.
You caught the updraft hard, yanked your tail down, and shot upward like a missile.
Power—wild, electric, glorious—flooded every feather. You finally understood what it meant to be a thunderbird: to command the storm, to shield some beneath your wings and rain judgment on others.
Your mission was to protect.
With that single thought, the storm obeyed completely.
No more lightning chains. No more thunder. Only rain—endless, focused, deliberate rain that hammered the volcano like a billion fire hoses. It drowned the forest fires, quenched the lava, and poured straight into the crater itself. The outer crust cooled, hardened, sealed. The giant slept again—for millennia.
“THANK YOU, THUNDERBIRD.”
[[Thank you, Taniwha.]]“Thank you, people of great Taniwha! Thank you, my friends! And God bless America!”
Governor Kavihak Kavihakowa’s voice yanked you awake.
The news ticker said that today, across the state and the entire country, people were celebrating Free Human Day—the second anniversary of Earth’s victory over the invading Drakians.
You scanned the hospital room. To your right, a humanoid coyote had been watching you the whole time: Alex Beckett, your campaign manager.
“That was the dumbest, most reckless thing you’ve ever done in your life,” he said. “Just throwing away precious campaign weeks like that. Letting your opponent bait you into it.”
“Another promise kept. And one life goal crossed off the list.”
“You made that promise to your opponent, not the voters. They’re not going to reward you for it.”
[[Oh, they absolutely will.]]
<<set $p to $p + 1>>Three weeks ago, the three candidates for mayor of Newport held a debate in the city-hall chamber. Badger Winston, snow-leopard Myers, and you were arguing about the city’s future and who should lead it. While you were calmly explaining why former mayor Kalani’s policies needed to be continued, your two opponents suddenly closed ranks and started hinting—less and less subtly—that a baseline human mayor would be the wrong choice for a city of meta-humans.
You could have called those hints unusually xenophobic for Newport, a city built only recently as a haven open to everyone, especially meta-humans. But that wasn’t your place to judge; the voters would decide. You could have sworn you’d never modify yourself. But that would’ve been a lie—you’d simply been putting it off for far too long.
And now the moment had come.
“Yes, colleagues, you’re right. But not about a regular human being incapable of understanding our neighbors’ ‘specific’ needs, as you so delicately put it. That’s utter nonsense. You’re right about one thing: I really do need to finally pull myself together before the election and get my body modified. I’m hardly going to do it once I’m already in office, am I? It’ll take weeks of total downtime, and a mayor can’t just take vacation in times like these. Was I planning to do it after my term ends? Doubtful—once I deliver on my promises and ramp up housing construction, I’m running for re-election to keep Kalani’s legacy alive. So I’ve got almost no time left to finally take the form that will be both comfortable to live in and effective to work in. Because when someone has a question or a problem, I won’t drive over. I’ll fly.”
You smiled, already picturing yourself heading straight to the local Morph Inc clinic after the debate to become a bald-eagle meta-human.
The news that a candidate had decided to undergo full-body modification in the middle of the campaign spread like wildfire. Your approval ratings soared. You held meet-and-greets with voters right from your hospital bed, without even waiting for rehab to finish.
Today was finally discharge day. A tough week of campaigning lay ahead.
Alex walked to the window and said, “Look, the car’s packed to the roof with campaign materials. When they let you out, you wanna walk to HQ or should I call you a ChenGo?”
[[Don’t worry—I’ll fly!]]
<<set $p to $p + 1>>You took 41 % of the vote in the first round against 32 % and 27 %. In the runoff you pulled 57 %.
“Well done, my sweet little bun!”
During your visit to Newport City Hall, the humanoid rabbit mayor Mary Kalani hugged you exactly the way a grandma hugs her grandchildren. She wasn’t actually your grandma, but she treated everyone like grandchildren. That’s why they’d elected her.
Of course, you knew her darker side, the one that had rocketed Newport from nowhere to boomtown.
“You put those idiots in their place,” she whispered, still squeezing. “Don’t worry, I suspect this is their last term on the council. And if they get too mouthy, I’ll email you a little something that’ll make them not only resign—they’ll swim the hell off Taniwha and never come back.”
“Thank you, Mary! But I’m guessing you wanted to talk about something else?”
“Yep. New housing construction. Are you sticking to my plan, or do you have some fancy new ideas of your own?”
“[[Of course I’m sticking to yours. Low-rise housing for the upper-middle class and the wealthy is stable for city metrics—we’ll attract skilled professionals, get solid, quiet residents and fat taxpayers. Exactly what Newport’s budget desperately needs right now. The only downside is we’ll end up with way too many types like Councilor Myers.]]”
“[[Yeah, something new. You’re gonna scold me again, but municipal social housing is the real issue. Ms. Nakamura is threatening to quit teaching if we don’t find her decent housing, and it’s not just the teachers—our firefighters say it’s either a raise, city housing, or they’re forming a volunteer brigade because they’ll move to Petrocity. And the sheriff flat-out told me the first homeless people are a matter of a few years away.]]”
“[[Something fresh. Just don’t whack me with your cane. A hotel! Whether under direct municipal control or private management—I haven’t decided yet. I want to turn Newport not just into a playground for rich meta-humans, but into a tourist mecca for all meta-humans and our sympathizers. Plus our beach is way cleaner than Petrocity’s, so we’ll grab a guaranteed slice of the state’s tourist traffic. And for the folks who actually work here year-round, we’ll give them big discounts on long-term stays.]]”
<<set $p to $p + 1>>You were elected by specific residents, and it was for them that you defended Newport’s interests. You deliberately inflated land prices so it could only be leased for high-rise luxury condos or private mansions. That way you attracted only the “right” kind of people—people close to the existing residents.
The media might call Newport an “oasis city for meta-humans,” but in reality it had been built with big money from a handful of very wealthy meta-humans, and that money had to be protected. Property values kept climbing, Newport residents kept getting richer. Sometimes you even had to quietly lower municipal land-sale and rental prices just to keep the real-estate bubble from growing too fast. And no, it wasn’t some kind of landowner lobbying. On the contrary—you were successfully protecting the interests of 80 % of your voters.
[[Everything changed in a single day.]]
<<set $p to $p + 2>>Social and key-worker housing had seemed like a great idea at first, even if some residents hated it. They feared municipal housing would balloon the city’s debt-service costs, attract “undesirables,” and crash existing property values, making everyone a little poorer. Those fears turned out to be wrong.
The projects were financed through municipal social bonds sold to concerned citizens—not at sky-high interest rates, but for a genuinely noble cause. Residents of Newport and random people across the U.S. crowdfunded the construction. The size of the contract forced the developer to open a local branch in Newport and bring in hard-working construction crews as permanent residents. Municipal money flowed first to the construction firm, then to the workers, then to local shops and landlords—making everyone richer.
Once the buildings were finished, they were filled with public-sector workers and (yes) the very low-income newcomers some had dreaded. Except those newcomers turned out to share the exact same values and convictions as the meta-humans who originally built the city (most of them were meta themselves or planning to become meta, just like you). The only difference was income. The sheriff reported crime barely budged—petty offenses rose a shocking 20 %… from 10 incidents a year to 12. (“Maybe don’t blast music at 3 a.m.!”)
In the end, everyone discovered Newport really was a city built by meta-humans for meta-humans.
[[Everything changed in a single day.]]
<<set $p to $p + 2>>Turning Newport into a seasonal getaway and permanent home for wealthy remote workers had been appealing, stable, and politically safe… but what kind of future did the city itself actually have? None. Almost no businesses operated inside the city except grocery stores and gas stations. Kids either left for the mainland after high school or hung around bored, dreaming of the mainland, because there were no jobs and no ecosystem for starting a business. Demand was missing. Customers were missing. Outside investment was missing.
So you decided to leverage the natural advantages of both Taniwha and Newport: a near-subtropical city that welcomes meta-humans. Let them come here for conferences, conventions, whatever. Your dream came true. With the new hotel, deals with travel agencies, and partnerships with meta-human cultural movements, you managed to host a couple of major conferences, fill the municipal hotel to capacity, and throw huge meet-ups on the city beach. It brings money into Newport and proves to the world that this city truly is built by meta-humans, for meta-humans—and that every meta-human is welcome to visit.
[[Everything changed in a single day.]]
<<set $p to $p + 2>>While working, you turned on Taniwha Public Television. They were already discussing the gubernatorial election coming at the end of this year. Christmas and New Year’s had barely ended, and the campaign was already in full swing. Not like in Newport at all.
They aired a clip of Senator Jack Montoya of Taniwha, a man long famous for his ultra-conservative views (which felt downright prehistoric in an era when humanity was colonizing space):
“With all due respect to Governor Kavihak, she’s soft-hearted and too kind. Old school. Former Republican, now in some third-party ‘Moderates’ thing. We’ve seen what the Democrats and Republicans did to this country. They let it get into a war with those monsters—the Drakians. And now the same old establishment is letting people turn into non-humans. Animals, elves, aliens, freaking furniture. They’re shoving this filth on everyone. Soon we won’t even be human anymore. Who benefits from all this? We know exactly who. The old politicians can’t handle it. We need new politicians. We need a new governor. And we’ll finally solve this problem once and for all. If someone wants to become a fish, welcome to the ocean—just not on Taniwha. If someone wants to be a bird, fly away from the island. I hope ‘We the People’ will stand with me.”
[[What a freak. He’s got zero chance of winning, obviously.]]You thought that because the alternative (admitting that the senator might not just survive the primaries but actually win) would mean admitting the world had gone completely insane. And it had. Space colonization, an interspecies war, the discovery of a second alien civilization, the explosion of meta-humans… all of it needed time to process, to digest. But the technological singularity doesn’t wait for anyone and never leaves anyone fully satisfied. Even you sometimes wanted to put limits on certain experiments, certain fields of science. And to the more conservative folks, you yourself were the experiment—they wanted to “save” you and others from yourselves. You understood the logic. You just condemned it.
End of the workday. You’d spent the whole day in City Hall: meeting with residents, signing newly passed council ordinances, signing municipal contracts, approving big checks. Your phone rang. It was Mary. After your inauguration she’d vanished from the city almost immediately and hadn’t returned your calls. Classic Mary. You figured she’d just taken a well-deserved post-politics vacation, maybe a grand tour of the mainland. But now she was calling you. At night. It was the middle of the night on the mainland. Strange.
[[Answer the call]]“Hi, Ma—”
“Yeah, yeah, hi. Listen, get over to your old campaign HQ right now.”
“Right now? The ice-cream café is usually closed at this hour. Plus I’ve got a ton of stuff to do at home.”
“This is a survival issue. Yours and the whole city’s.”
She hung up. Okay, that’s… extremely weird.
You walked from City Hall. The café was only a couple blocks away. Dim lights glowed inside. Several cars were parked out front. Next to one of them, a huge crocodile-like meta was having a smoke. If it weren’t for the police cruiser parked nearby, you’d swear this was some kind of mob meet-up. Or that Mary was about to have you whacked. <<if $city is 2>>Is this about the hotel? <</if>><<if $city is 1>>Is this about the social housing? <</if>>
Nah, the sheriff has to be inside. Probably…
[[Walk into the cafe]]Three meta-humans were sitting there: Sheriff Smith (shark), a wolf-woman, and a gleaming reptilian humanoid.
The sheriff saw you first. He stood up, said, “Thanks for the memories, Aglaya. See you later!” and headed for the door, giving you a nod as he passed. You took his seat.
“Yes, that’s a solid choice. Voters love symbolism, and Newport’s results will prove it’s not just populist imagery,” the metallic lizard declared in a perfectly mechanical voice. Cyborg? Cybernetic?
“Isn’t a full-on bald eagle a bit much, though…?”
You didn’t like being discussed like you weren’t in the room, and you really didn’t like not knowing what this was about.
“Who are you people, and why did Mary call you here?”
“I’m the Director of External Projects at Morph Inc. This is Ito Kaoru, freelance analyst.”
“And no, I’m not a cybernetic.”
What? Did it just read your mind?
“Yes. My apologies. I still haven’t learned to fully dial down the brain-wave scanner. And it’s ‘he,’ not ‘it.’”
“Interesting tech… but let’s talk about something else. First, on behalf of all the residents, thank you for everything you do. Without your corporation there would be no meta-humans and no Newport. We were able to unite around the value of morphological freedom thanks to you…”
“See? Told you the mayor of Newport was genuine about the transformation. A valuable candidate.”
“Would you stop interrupting me? Let’s discuss the terms of investment cooperation between Morph Inc and Newport like normal people.”
“We’re not interested in cooperating with Newport,” the wolf-woman began.
“At the moment!” the metallic lizard cut in.
“We’re far more interested in cooperating with you personally. You could be a very worthwhile investment…” she said with a sly smile.
“[[Are you trying to bribe me? I’m all ears…]]”
“[[I’m not for sale! If you think you can buy my loyalty, you’re dead wrong. Get the hell out of this café and out of my city!]]”“Sorry, Aglaya. The calculations were correct, but the gamble didn’t pay off. Definitely not our candidate.”
“Kaoru, let’s go. There are other options.”
They left you sitting alone in the café. You sat there stunned until the owner kicked you out, then trudged home.
You kept doing your job until one day the Federal Investigation Service showed up. They found stacks of cash and USB drives with crypto-wallet keys at your place. Turns out you’d been taking a quiet cut from developers for years. Now you’d be building roads, under the watchful eye of prison guards.“Exactly what I expected. The perfect candidate,” Mr. Ito declared.
“No, you misunderstood us. We want to offer you a chance to run for governor. Our corporation is prepared to provide financing…”
“…and personnel.”
“Why would I do that? I can’t just abandon my neighbors and spend a year campaigning across the state for some phantom shot at victory. No one’s going to elect a meta-human governor.”
The lizard-cyborg stepped forward: “If a meta-human does not become governor of Taniwha, there will be no more meta-humans in the state at all! There will be no Newport at all! And this isn’t a threat, it’s a near-certain projection!”
“[[What are you talking about? What exactly is going to happen?]]”Jack Montoya is a radical bio-conservative. He genuinely sees you personally (and every single meta-human) as an existential threat to America, to Christianity, and to humanity itself. In his eyes, you’re not human.
But Jack isn’t just a one-note bigot. His solid, constructive social and economic program, plus the real help he gives his constituents, make him genuinely popular. Still, he would never have won the “We the People” primary on his own… until he got the backing of a major industrial titan: Pryanikoff.
“Wait—what? Pryanikoff? That’s insane. Communists funding an American hawk? He’ll ban foreign corporations the second he’s in office!” you blurted at Kaoru.
Exactly. The thing Montoya hates even more than Pryanikoff is Morph Inc and Chenggong. And Pryanikoff, despite being headquartered in the Soviet Union, is a cornerstone of the U.S. arms market and defense system. So Mr. Montoya is perfectly willing to grant privileges to one transnational megacorp if it helps him kick the other two off the island for good.
“[[Okay, now I get it. But what exactly will Montoya do to meta-humans? He can’t actually force us to flee the state or make us revert to baseline human, can he?]]”That’s precisely what he can and will do. Right now, as a state senator, he’s pushing a bill through the regional legislature called the “Health Act.” It’s currently stuck in legal limbo, but with more political muscle he’ll get it passed.
The bill establishes unified physical and psychological health standards that, thanks to modern tech, are easily achievable. Reaching those standards becomes both a right and a duty of every citizen. Any “defect” that prevents someone from meeting the criteria can be corrected in state-subsidized clinics. On the surface, it’s a wonderful public-health initiative.
But buried in the appendices are criteria that exclude almost every meta-human from the definition of “healthy.”
Unhealthy citizens are barred from working “for public safety and health reasons.” There’s nothing overtly discriminatory in the wording, but in practice the law will either leave meta-humans unemployed or force them to “be cured” at state expense and revert to baseline.
“That’s exactly why we’re looking for the right counter-candidate for governor,” Mr. Ito said. “If you’re in, I’m ready to stay right here and start working tonight!”
He paused, remembered he was the only actual cyborg in the room, and corrected himself: “Or, well… first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll prep everything in the meantime.”
“[[God bless Taniwha! Count me in. If my running can stop that xenophobic bastard from winning, I’m all yours.]]”
“[[I’m sorry, but I’m still not the candidate you need.]]”You were jolted awake by a call from Kaoru at 5 a.m.:
“Come to HQ! I’ll be waiting in an hour.”
You cursed that lizard under your breath for not letting you sleep one more well-earned hour, but you obediently got ready and reached the ice-cream café 50 minutes after the call. The front door was locked, but the black back entrance stood open. You stepped into the storage room and froze: the tiny place had been turned into a full-blown war room—rows of computers and servers, a couple of phones, and a corkboard plastered with photos. Two huge pictures dominated the board: yours and Jack Montoya’s.
In the middle of this cramped, high-tech cave sat Kaoru—right on the floor in lotus position, cables plugged into ports along his chrome scales. His mechanical eyes were closed. He looked like he was meditating… or in some kind of trance.
“[[Mr. Ito?]]”
[[Try yanking the cables out]]
[[Maybe he’s being held hostage with those cables? Go check the rest of the cafe]]Some time later…
“Taniwha Public Television. Breaking news from the past few hours. Governor Jack Montoya has signed the Health Act into law. From this day forward, every resident of the state is entitled to free medical treatment to cure minor and chronic conditions. Critics, however, point out that the law’s definition of a ‘healthy body’ is excessively narrow, effectively classifying meta-humans and certain cyborgs as legally unhealthy. If you remove certain implants or voluntarily restore your original human form at the nearest medical facility (at no cost to you), you will receive an official health certificate and be allowed to continue working. Effective immediately, individuals deemed unhealthy for public health reasons are barred from state and municipal employment. After a two-month transition period, they will be prohibited from working in any sector.”
This was your last day as mayor.
You have no intention of denying who you are just because of some law.
You packed your suitcase. A long journey awaits you.You called his name, shouted at him, begged him to wake up. Nothing. He just kept floating in whatever digital dream he was having—after waking you up himself! The nerve.
You glanced at the clock.
5:53
5:54
5:55
5:56
5:57
5:58
5:59
“[[Rise and shine, Mr. Ito.]]”TANIWHA PRAWDA newspaper
“Two great motherlands, one beautiful island”
“Mayor of Newport charged with reckless endangerment and grievous bodily harm to California resident Ito Kaoru. According to the suspect, he yanked cables directly from the cyborg meta-human’s head while the victim was connected to the global network conducting business. Medical experts state that abruptly disconnecting neuron-linked cables caused brain damage. In an exclusive voice message to our editorial team, Mr. Ito reports he is now fine and intends to drop all charges, since the mayor—upon realizing the terrible mistake—personally called the ambulance, paid for treatment at a Morph Inc clinic, and replaced the burned-out neural adapter out of own pocket.”You stepped into the main room and someone suddenly kicked you hard in the back. You crashed face-first onto the floor. The lights flicked on.
It was Mihirangi, the kangaroo-woman who owned the café.
“Oh no, Mayor! I’m so sorry! I thought burglars had broken in. Mr. Ito said he wouldn’t leave the rented room, so I…”
You got up, rubbing your back.
“No harm done, Mihi. You were totally within your rights. I’m the one who thought something weird was going on—the cyborg’s unresponsive and the door was open.”
“He’s perfectly fine. He’s probably just recharging.”
“Recharging? He called and woke me up an hour ago, told me to get here ASAP.”
“Well, you woke me up too, by the way.”
“Sorry, Mihi. Anything I can do for you?”
“You can buy a milkshake.”
Seven minutes later, at exactly 6:00 a.m., you walked back into the room holding a milkshake.
“[[Rise and shine, Mr. Ito.]]”“Good morning! I spoke with my contacts, including one of Governor Kavihak’s advisors. It shared all the legal fine print on how Kavihak managed to get elected. The procedure itself hasn’t changed at all. It was thrilled to hand over every document template, but deeply disappointed that Kavihak herself won’t be running again. According to its models, she remains the single most preferable candidate for the state’s socio-economic development.”
“In other words, we’re all screwed.”
“Not yet. Right now its algorithms don’t even register you as a candidate. But among everyone who has officially declared for governor so far, Jack Montoya is the one projected to deliver the strongest economic growth… growth that would be even higher if he weren’t such a rabid xenophobe.”
“[[Then let’s make your friend start seeing me as a real candidate. What do we have to do?]]”That’s exactly why Kaoru dragged you here so early. A few documents needed signing.
1. Declaration of Candidacy
2. Power of Attorney for Ito Kaoru to deliver this Declaration today to the Office of the Secretary of State and register the Agreement for opening a special campaign account on your behalf with the Election Commission.
3. Application for unpaid election-related leave under Section 17.26 of the Newport City Charter.
4. Statement of Appointment of Ito Kaoru as Campaign Treasurer
5. Statement of Appointment of Ito Kaoru as Campaign Manager.
6. Agreement for opening a special campaign bank account at Morph Finance.
7. Contract with ChengWeb for domain registration and hosting of the campaign website.
8. Employment contract with Mr. Ito.
Two things in that last contract made your beak drop: minimum wage per hour and a 22-hour workday on a 7-days-a-week schedule. Yeah… now you finally understand why Robert Kennedy keeps telling reporters that cyborgs and cybernetics are tanking the labor market.
Unfortunately, you didn’t have a dime to actually pay your new analyst. Kaoru just smiled and said you wouldn’t have any questions once the site went live and the donation page started working. You asked what was up with the site, and he instantly pulled up three fully designed, ready-to-launch versions.
[[He suggested you pick one of the following]][[Social candidate.]] The site’s main focus will be on receiving voter appeals. Kaoru will deploy his own neural network that will (a) guide voters on how to solve their problems themselves (e.g., by generating a ready-to-sign petition or application with all their personal data already filled in), or (b) forward the request directly to campaign HQ, where you, as the candidate, will personally resolve it.
[[Patriotic candidate.]] Red-white-and-blue stripes everywhere, endless promises to love Taniwha and America, historical references, a full calendar of national and state holidays, short patriotic slogans, and animated videos of bald eagles merging with a human figure to become a giant anthropomorphic eagle brutally beating up a massive ape, a fire-breathing lizard, and a magical squid—symbolizing the state’s internal and external threats.
[[Intellectual candidate.]] The entire website is essentially an encyclopedia built around your personal political platform (actually written overnight by Mr. Ito after analyzing your entire political record). Every voter can dive as deep as they want—from short summaries to hundreds of pages of detailed policy—on exactly how Taniwha should be governed.This choice will pay off down the road. Voters will start sharing your site with anyone who needs help with legal or everyday issues. When your bot or volunteers actually solve those problems, people will learn who you are, read your short platform, feel grateful, and donate to your campaign.
[[But you won’t see these effects today — you’ll only notice them around the middle of the campaign.]]
<<set $p to $p + 5>>That style might’ve worked in some old-school Texas (back before it flipped blue again), but you’re in Taniwha. It’s definitely less insane than running wrapped in a Soviet flag (people here have tried that too — 93 votes still doesn’t make a governor), yet voters will read it as cheap populism and a direct attack on Chinese, Japanese, and Drakian residents (because everyone’s going to ask: who exactly was that giant fire-breathing lizard supposed to be?).
[[But you won’t see these effects today — you’ll only notice them around the middle of the campaign.]]“Too many words, too little action” — that’s how some commenters summed up your site. Others, though, loved being able to dig deep into your goals and plans for Taniwha’s development. Even you found it fascinating and learned a bunch of new stuff from your own platform. Yeah, Mr. Ito went all out — maybe overdid it. Now you’re committed to delivering a ton of policies you’d never have come up with on your own. This version will definitely win the hearts of the “academic elite,” but regular folks simply won’t read hundreds of pages (I wouldn’t either — it’s boring. Jack Montoya’s podcasts are way more entertaining).
[[But you won’t see these effects today — you’ll only notice them around the middle of the campaign.]]
<<set $p to $p + 3>>Right now you had to rush to Newport City Hall, call Winston to convene an emergency city-council session, file your unpaid election-leave request, and start dialing local and regional reporters to announce your gubernatorial run.
The badger showed up in under ten minutes. He’s council chair, and today is basically his Christmas: he gets to become acting mayor of Newport. Which means, for the next few months, he can do literally whatever he wants with the city. Yikes… You wouldn’t wish that on your worst enemy. Even Councilor Myers would be infinitely better for the residents than Winston.
[[I’m really sorry, but I won’t be able to watch over Newport full-time anymore. As a gubernatorial candidate I have to look after the entire state and give equal attention to every district’s interests.]]
[[Even during the campaign I’ll have to keep an eye on Winston’s actions, stay on top of what’s happening in the city, and occasionally tell my allies on the council to block the acting mayor when necessary.]]Even though you’ll still handle some Newport resident appeals from time to time, critics will accuse you of abandoning your neighbors to their fate (or rather, to the fate of an incompetent badger). Voters hate it when politicians ditch them for bigger ambitions—even if you’re doing it for the higher purpose of making sure those same Newport residents can stay in the state and keep living in whatever body they choose.
[[Your leave request sailed through. The only vote against it came from Myers—he gets literally nothing out of your departure.]]During your campaign, you will often get distracted by Newport news. This will disrupt the internal work of your campaign headquarters, but it will benefit your public image. Ito Kaoru will use it to promote you as a meta-human who never forgets the promises to the voters.
[[Your leave request sailed through. The only vote against it came from Myers—he gets literally nothing out of your departure.]]
<<set $p to $p + 5>>The next day, still sleep-deprived, Ito woke you up again at 5 a.m.: "Check your account!".
You did... It shocked you badly. $114,795. You called Kaoru back: "This is unbelievable. Did you connect the micro-donation system?"
"Not yet. This entire amount was transferred by the Morph Inc board of directors, all fifteen of them, within the limit. Now our task is to rent a place and organize HQ in Petrocity. I'll be waiting in an hour! We're leaving today in my truck."
You arrived exactly at six. Kaoru had already said that he negotiated with the potential landlord. He opened the truck body door and offered you to sit in the passenger seat.
[[Get in the car (ATTENTION: YOU ARE MOVING TO ANOTHER LOCATION. IN THE NEW LOCATION YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO GET ALL UNPLAYED CONTENT FROM THE OLD LOCATION. NEWPORT LOCATION COMPLETED ONLY 0.32%. TO GET THE "NEWPORT SCOUT" ACHIEVEMENT, YOU NEED TO EXPLORE 95% OR MORE OF THE NEWPORT LOCATION CONTENT)]]
“[[Wait. I still have something to do]]”Time to conquer the state capital!
You arrived at the police academy in the truck and thanked Mr. Ito for all the paperwork he’d handled. Now you could finally fulfill your dream! Years of training and legal theory had led you to this moment: receiving the coveted gold star. You hoped they’d give you an exciting field assignment right away, but instead you got the most boring mission imaginable: unmask Soviet spies and deactivate a nuclear warhead on the island that was supposed to fly through space and destroy the Drakians’ home planet. After completing the task, you met a fox who worked at a hedge fund attracting clients interested in high returns with minimal risk thanks to an ultra-stable financial product: bonds backed by microfinance loans in third-world countries and Happy Trails bonds (a space-development contractor that had already suffered three technical defaults on its bonds in the past year). Together with the fox, you uncovered the secret plan of acting mayor of the capital, Kavihak Kavihakowa, to turn every meta-human in Petrocity into an exact copy of Jack Montoya. A few years later you married the fox and had about twenty kids. Decades after that, one day before retirement, you were shot.
“Wake up, future governor!”
“[[What? Are we there already?]]”Yeah, seems like you did everything. Turned off the lights and water at home, set the alarm. Wait, how will it work without electricity? Nah, everything's fine, you didn't turn off all the electricity, the fire and police alarms will have power.
Ito Kaoru is impatient: "We need to go to Petrocity urgently."
[[Get in the car (ATTENTION: YOU ARE MOVING TO ANOTHER LOCATION. IN THE NEW LOCATION YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO GET ALL UNPLAYED CONTENT FROM THE OLD LOCATION. NEWPORT LOCATION COMPLETED ONLY 0.32%. TO GET THE "NEWPORT SCOUT" ACHIEVEMENT, YOU NEED TO EXPLORE 95% OR MORE OF THE NEWPORT LOCATION CONTENT)]]
“[[Wait. I still have something to do]]”You arrived on Solar Street, the financial heart of Petrocity. You were standing in front of the city’s main business tower—Pedersen Tower, a 20-story skyscraper. Several major bank offices and a couple of shops occupied the lower floors. On the ground floor, the landlord from “Talagi & Sons” was already waiting for you.
“With the maximum legal corporate discount of $10,000 for a candidate,” she said, “I can let you have this place… for $14,795.”
How convenient that you had exactly $114,795 available, leaving you with a nice round number afterward. You decided not to ask which Morph Inc executive was buddies with which Talagi family member to secure that exact discount. As long as the Taniwha Election Commission won’t raise an eyebrow, everything will be fine.
[[Time to haul all the equipment up here with Mr. Ito, buy the missing furniture, then devour an entire large pizza by yourself (yes, solo—because you’ll be starving, and Mr. Ito doesn’t eat… What does he even run on? Electricity?)]]
<<set $p to $p + 2>>Furniture: check. Equipment: check. Campaign manager: check.
Now comes the most important part: people, people, people! Skilled and unskilled, paid staff and volunteers. Your campaign needs workers who can help Ito with organizational tasks (he can do everything, but he can’t be everywhere at once; buying an extra terabyte of RAM so he can replace ten humans would cost way more than just hiring staff) and who can answer phones and voter inquiries (something Ito definitely can’t handle), plus field organizers who will canvass and campaign for you door-to-door. Right now the first concrete goal is to collect one thousand supporting signatures from members of the Transhumanist Party of the United States so you can enter their primary.
“The Transhumanist Party of the United States?” you asked Kaoru.
“If you try to run in the We the People primary, your chance of winning it is 0.3 %.”
“And if I go through a third party, the Moderates, the Democrats, the Republicans, or as an independent?”
“Then the chance drops to 0.03 %.”
“[[Got it, got it. No, don’t worry, Kaoru—I’m just thinking out loud. Of course the transhumanists are the ones closest to meta-humans on the issue of morphological freedom. Let’s talk staffing strategy.]]”All of this should really be handled by an HR manager, but first you have to hire the HR manager. And to do that, you need to decide what kind of team you actually want, including what kind of HR manager you want. For that, you have to pick a mental strategy and stick to it.
[[Strategy “Trust”: we only hire true believers—meta-humans and people who already share our exact views. It might be worth bringing in people we already know, including from Newport, where there are plenty of qualified folks. With familiar faces there’s less risk of leaks. For everyone involved, the main motivation will be saving themselves and Taniwha from Jack Montoya and his anti-meta discrimination law.]]
[[Strategy “Competition”: the only thing that matters is hiring experienced professionals who are top-tier at what they do. Everything else loyalty, ideology, whatever is secondary. We take the smartest, most empathetic, hardest-working people. The best of the best of the best. Perfect!]]
[[Strategy “Representation”: so that no one can ever accuse our campaign of anything and journalists can’t write that we’re running a “members-only club,” a gathering of only meta-humans or only one specific social group, we introduce quotas. Yes, seriously: out of every hypothetical 100 staffers, 25 must be indigenous Taniwhans, 37 of European descent, 14 African-American, 8 Latino, and so on. Equal numbers of women and men. Between 2 and 10 meta-humans, no more, no less. And cyborgs must be represented. The key is to pick the absolute best people from each group!]]Since when does “knowing someone” guarantee no-leak guarantee? Real friendship might help, but you don’t have enough genuine friends to staff an entire campaign HQ. And even if you did, would every single one of them actually be useful in political work?
The fact that you mostly hired meta-humans and hardcore transhumanists ended up backfiring. To average voters, your canvassers looked way too alien. Imagine you’re an ordinary person walking down the street and a humanoid panda covered in glowing implants comes up and asks you to sign so a candidate can enter the primary. What do you do? Of course you sign—not for the candidate, but for your own safety, because you’re afraid that if you say no, that panda will maul you with its giant paws or fry you with its laser eyes.
[[Still, you managed to collect the required thousand signatures. You didn’t even have to travel the whole state—half came from Petrocity, the other half from Newport.]]
<<set $p to $p + 2>>It looked pretty weird from the outside. Nevertheless, both Kaoru and the new HR manager followed instructions precisely and spent ages searching for the single best Drakian candidate (even though several applied), and for the Aleut/Inuit slot they ended up picking someone from a mixed family. One day there will be a leak, and media outlets close to Jack Montoya will accuse you of “leftism bordering on a certain degree of racism, sexism, and totalitarianism.” Some voters will roll their eyes at the headlines but vote for you anyway, because you assembled a team of professionals—even if you pointlessly shackled yourself with overly rigid (and therefore meaningless) quotas.
[[Still, you managed to collect the required thousand signatures. You didn’t even have to travel the whole state—half came from Petrocity, the other half from Newport.]]
<<set $p to $p + 5>>You hired the absolute best of the best. Some have top-tier analytical skills, some have leadership qualities, some are natural persuaders. You took them all—regardless of gender or nationality (and even regardless of citizenship, as long as they had a green card; otherwise the Taniwha Election Commission would destroy you). Later, journalists will ask why, for example, your entire analytics team is Chinese and Japanese while every single canvasser—from baseline humans to meta-humans—is indigenous Taniwhan. You’ll answer that the analysts got the job thanks to the superb foundational education in their home countries, and the canvassers are sincerely campaigning for unity because caring for near and far neighbors, reconciliation, forgiveness (meaning that even if someone disapproves of another person becoming meta, they should forgive it), compassion, and respect are core tenets of Taniwhan and broader Polynesian culture. Though of course the traditional conservative Taniwhans are extremely critical of meta-humans.
[[Still, you managed to collect the required thousand signatures. You didn’t even have to travel the whole state—half came from Petrocity, the other half from Newport.]]
<<set $p to $p + 8>>You’re officially in the game! Now the most important thing is to visit every single Transhumanist Party local chapter across the state: shake hands, wave, listen to every request, solemnly promise to fulfill every request (mandatory!), and actually fulfill them (optional).
But as a future governor, people won’t only ask whether you’ll replace the burned-out streetlights on the regional highway (though that’s actually pretty important, seriously). They’ll want to know your overall program. What do you want to change in Taniwha as governor? Why are you even running? Just to stop Jack Montoya from driving all meta-humans out of the state?
“[[Of course that’s the main issue. These bio-conservatives want to outlaw morphological freedom. That won’t just exile us meta-humans and cyborgs; it will stall the entire state’s scientific and technological progress. We have Morph Inc branches all over Taniwha that would be shut down. We have the Taniwha Biological Research Institute that would lose grants for long-term studies on phenotype and genotype modification. We have ordinary meta-humans and cyborgs working in industries vital to the state. What are they supposed to do if they’re declared ‘unhealthy’? The state will lose progress and economic growth. We’ll all lose not only our freedom, but our money.]]”
“[[No, absolutely not!” Whenever anyone asked about your platform, you kept trying to downplay the meta-human issue in case it scared off voters. “Of course, if the conservatives somehow pass their bill, I’ll veto it and demand amendments to guarantee better qualified medical care and remove certain… wording from the law. But I’m not running for governor just for that. I’m running to tackle the big, comprehensive issues that require us to move with the times: fast construction of modular housing, state-supported pharmacies where you can buy anti-aging drugs cheaply, development of mid-tier online and offline education, streamlining bureaucracy through neural networks, hiring AIs and cybernetics, and raising the universal basic income by improving collection of the automation tax.]]”
“[[I’ll be honest: yes, I’m running to veto that bill. Jack Montoya dreams of signing it, but I won’t let him. That said, I would sign it if the discriminatory provisions against meta-humans and cyborgs were removed. Because a healthy life in Taniwha must be guaranteed by the state government. That’s one of the core issues—exactly like morphological freedom, the rights of cyborgs and meta-humans, economic growth, security, the competitiveness of Taniwhan companies on American, Asian, and global markets, personal liberties, and the balance between individual and public interests. All of these issues matter equally to me, and I will do my best both to protect my fellow meta-humans from discrimination and to help every single voter with their own concerns, including their freedom from discrimination.]]”
<<set $p to $p + 3>>Among party members, you’ve earned the reputation of a single-issue politician. Yes, that issue is extremely important and affects a lot of things. But it doesn’t cover the whole of public life.
<<if $p > 19>>[[Let’s see how this affects the primary results!->Victory in the primary]]<<else>>[[Let’s see how this affects the primary results!->Defeat in the primary]]<</if>>
<<set $p to $p + 3>>Everyone has heard about Jack Montoya and his bill, and then you show up—a real, live meta-human with beak, feathers, talons, and wings—trying to convince people that your spontaneous decision to run for governor has nothing to do with that discriminatory law? Sure, buddy. Voters aren’t stupid, and they really hate insincerity.
<<if $p > 19>>[[Let’s see how this affects the primary results!->Victory in the primary]]<<else>>[[Let’s see how this affects the primary results!->Defeat in the primary]]<</if>>Some will say: “Wait, you’re seriously claiming issue A is as important as issue B? You are empty-headed C! Next you’ll say you don’t think issue D is the top priority or that we should focus entirely on issue E.”
Others won’t say that, because a politician is supposed to handle most problems without fixating on just one. On the other hand, it would be nice to actually set some priorities, because right now voters don’t see any distinctive flavor in your platform—no uniqueness, no clear emphasis. Then again, that’s somewhat offset by the sheer uniqueness of you as a candidate: one who won’t just drive to an emergency— the candidate will fly there.
<<if $p > 19>>[[Let’s see how this affects the primary results!->Victory in the primary]]<<else>>[[Let’s see how this affects the primary results!->Defeat in the primary]]<</if>>
<<set $p to $p + 5>>“And with 67 % in ranked-choice voting, with a narrow lead over Tatiana Kirillina, the winner is…”
This is your first major victory, but the real fight is still ahead. Now you have to defeat a serious and dangerous opponent… the buffet after the official closing of the convention.
[[Meanwhile, at Jack Montoya’s headquarters]]
<<set $p to $p + 10>>Some time passed. A couple of debates and some ads.
The chair of the Taniwha regional branch of the Transhumanist Party announced the primary winner live on air, based on the delegates’ secret ballot. The winner is…
You can’t wait to stand up from the front row and walk onto the stage.
“Oh my God! This is going to be one interesting campaign, a real hybrid political showdown! Okay, bad joke, but you get what I’m hinting at. Taniwha is leading the nation forward—because we’re about to have the country’s first meta-human governor. That’s what we’ll believe in, hope for, and work for. So! Congratulations! With a narrow lead over Larry Taft! Scoring 63 % in ranked-choice voting! The winner is… Tatiana Kirillina!”
…What?
You watch as a humanoid otter climbs the steps to the stage.
“Thank you so much! I’m grateful to all of you for your trust. Starting tomorrow I…”
After the convention ended, you received a text from Kaoru:
“Very sorry it didn’t work out between us. But there’s good news: Morph Inc’s other candidate made it through. Now Tatiana can beat Jack and veto the law.”
You should be happy, but honestly you’re pretty pissed off.
Yet instead of feeling ashamed of your political failure, you blame the Taniwha and D.C. establishment, Big Pharma, the Committee of 300, and Bill Gates personally! They’re all responsible for forcing you to go back to Newport and your old duties.
…Actually, whatever. It’s not even that bad. You’re genuinely glad to return to the job you love.“Jackie, did you see who those transhumanists just picked?”
“Yeah, Carl, it’s hilarious. They took the bait and now they won’t be a problem for us or for humanity in general. But there’s another issue.”
“Kavihak?”
“Exactly. She’s playing a shadow game. Her supporters could block my nomination from the Moderates. Then instead of a safe second-place spoiler, I’ll have a real opponent.”
“From a third party? Come on, don’t joke like that. Even if your opponent tells people to vote for the Moderate candidate, they won’t crack 10 %.”
“I’d love to believe that, but my gut’s never wrong. Something’s coming. We need to speed things up. What about the health committee chair? Is he going to play ball?”
“I checked. His niece is a fox-meta. That’s why he’s been stalling the bill.”
“A lost soul and an uncle-corrupt covering for immorality because of a family tragedy. It hurts me to see where humanity is headed. But at least I know how to make him a little more… cooperative. If that doesn’t work, everyone will find out just how overly liberal the views on ‘humanity’ and ‘family’ are for that We the People co-conspirator.”
[[The Moderates? They’re going to run their own independent candidate too?]]“You are watching the program Dialogue on the channel…” (heavy static) “Are we back on air? At least the internet platforms are working? No? Everything’s restored? You are watching…” (heavy static) “And instead of discussing cybercrime and the interference of those freaks with our channel and my broadcast, I’m supposed to talk about the election? I don’t give a…” (censorship beep) “…about it. I’ve never voted in my life. What? We’re live? Connection restored? You are watching the program Dialogue, and today we will discuss the return of the Moderate Party to active politics. The third party wants to fight for a place in the sun on the sunniest island in the United States. And they might repeat Mrs. Kavihakowa’s success. The Moderate Party primary has chosen Jessica Lee, an investor and philanthropist who moved to our island about ten years ago, as their candidate. Today we will talk with the candidates’ authorized representatives, Ito Kaoru, Carl Florance, and Alex Beckett, and with the head of the Taniwha Election Commission, Alexandra Kvachkova, about how the election campaign in the state will unfold and what future the candidates are offering.”
You were surprised not only by the Moderates’ decision, but also by the familiar coyote face on the screen. Alex Beckett had been your campaign manager in Newport. Now, just like you, he had “moved up” in the world.
[[Should we expect a conflict of interest here?]]
<<set $p to $p - 2>>You returned to campaign headquarters after another meet-and-greet with voters. You wanted to continue your tour, but Kaoru stopped you and asked you to come back immediately to sign new documents. Once again, they were about registering you as a candidate… for another primary.
The thing is, in Taniwha it is perfectly legal to run in multiple parties at the same time. It was designed for voter convenience: if someone supports you personally but hates the Transhumanist Party, they can still vote for you as the candidate of a different, third party.
Two major parties are happy to nominate you right away, with almost no additional campaign effort required (unlike what you had to do with the transhumanists). Those two are the Democratic Party and the Republican Party. Their popularity in the state is roughly equal, as is the level of antipathy toward them. Some Democratic-leaning transhumanist voters won’t vote for you if you’re the “transhumanist Republican,” and vice-versa, but the upside of staying “above the fray” and looking like a moderate (the way Jessica does) outweighs the risks.
So you chose:
[[Democratic Party of the United States]]
[[Republican Party of the United States]]California Governor Zoltan Istvan called you:
“Congratulations, future governor! Running from both the Transhumanists and the Democrats is a smart tactic. I hope you’ll also support raising our regional universal basic income. But that’s not why I’m calling…”
He paused for a moment.
“One of our sponsors wants to talk to you—the guy who’s been pushing the idea of bringing Democrats and transhumanists closer together. Controversial figure, but he helped us win Texas. You should hear him out.”
[[Sure, I’ll talk to him. It’s not like he’s the actual devil or anything]]
<<set $p to $p + 5>>After your second primary victory, while posting short updates on one of the social networks, you received a special notification. It said that an anonymous user with an ultra-premium verified badge wants to meet you and discuss financial matters today at the earliest possible opportunity.
You thought it was some kind of scam, probably another “Nigerian prince” offering to donate millions to the campaign in exchange for you sending $20 first to “verify your identity.” But then the owner of the social network himself tagged you with the message: “Why haven’t you replied to our mutual friend? He’s already at your HQ!”
You stepped out of your office, looked around, and spotted one person.
[[It’s him!..]]
<<set $p to $p + 5>>You went to meet the man whom some people (mostly the ones wearing tinfoil hats to block Drakian waves) genuinely consider the devil incarnate. And he flew all the way here just to ensnare you, to make you lobby his interests, to turn you into his political puppet for building Karl Popper’s horrific society.”
“Uh… hello! I’m really glad to see you on our island! You… look incredibly well-preserved…”
Yeah, that came out a bit rude.
“Heh, thank you,” your interlocutor replied without taking offense. “My enemy’s medicines work wonders. They’ve saved me a fortune that my dear son and I can now spend on worthwhile projects. You are one of those worthwhile projects.”
“Thank you! If you’d like, I can send you the donation details. Just remember an individual can only give $8,500 to a candidate.”
“My dear friend, you’ll get not only money, but—most importantly—coordinated manpower. Several charitable organizations are ready to back a progressive politician like you. But I need a favor in return.”
“What kind of favor?”
You never expected such a horrific, utterly selfish request from a man his enemies accuse of eating children for breakfast.
“Increase spending on public school education. Reduce the funding gap between schools in poor and wealthy districts. You have the power to issue subsidies from the state budget for that—or rather, you can direct your future finance department head to draft a budget that does exactly that.”
[[Uh… okay? I was expecting him to ask for my soul or something, but helping voters in exchange for campaign help—sure, I’m in]]
[[No, I will not make deals with absolute evil! He crashed the British pound and did it again in 2029, forcing Britain back into the European Confederation]]You shook hands with the richest man on Earth.
No, wait. You shook hands with the most generous philanthropist.
Also not quite. You shook hands with the most powerful puppet-master.
Hah, definitely not. You shook hands with the embodiment of universal evil—at least according to every conservative out there.
In reality, you carefully shook hands with an ordinary human who only stood out because of his extreme longevity, and even that was thanks to expensive pills from Infinity.
The next day about thirty activists showed up at your headquarters. All of them were ready to campaign for you almost for free. Money also arrived in the campaign account from several charitable organizations.
[[Nice!->Taniwha]]
<<set $p to $p + 3>>After you refused to increase education funding, the rest of the conversation was extremely awkward. Actually, there was no conversation—just pure awkwardness. After half a minute of silent staring, the businessman struggled to his feet and headed for the door: “That was… a very strange negotiation.”
[[Yeah, that was weird...->Taniwha]]So he doesn’t actually think you’re the devil if he showed up in person. That’s good. The main thing is that he doesn’t try to drag you into a holy war against tech regulation. Though that would be on-brand, since you’re a right-leaning transhumanist—but you’re not that right-wing and not that transhumanist.
“Hello…” you began.
“I know exactly how to optimize higher-education spending, slash youth unemployment, and boost economic growth!”
“Uh… I’m listening.”
He laid out the idea: the state government would give every high-school graduate a grant. The money could be spent either on starting their own business (anything from a physical store to a website) or on further education.
Higher education? You know your surprise guest is famously against it.
That’s the trick. In one case it becomes a straight-up free grant. In the other case it turns into a state-issued student loan at regular bank interest rates. The graduate gets to choose firsthand which is better: take free money to start something new or follow the traditional path, take on debt from the state, and hope for a slightly better future.
In return he offers a massive online campaign where he will personally promote you to Taniwhans and to Americans nationwide as the hot new political startup worth investing money, effort, and votes in.
[[Uh… I’m in! But on one condition: the state education loan has to be at a reduced, preferential interest rate—though obviously not zero.]]
[[Looks like the sugar-free diet has finally gotten to him. I politely declined.]]To celebrate the deal he pulled two champagne flutes from his jacket, then a bottle of champagne from the same jacket, opened it, poured, dropped an anti-aging pill from Infinity (where he was the lead investor) into each glass, and you clinked glasses in bruderschaft. “To us, to building a great society of immortal Atlantean entrepreneurs.”
Okay, that didn’t actually happen. He just shook your hand again, said “Well, I still have a couple more meetings in your state today. I need to hurry to make them all,” and left.
[[But I did buy champagne for the campaign staff to celebrate gaining an ally->Taniwha]]
<<set $p to $p + 3>>After your refusal he took out his phone and started typing. A minute later you got a notification that someone had mentioned you. You opened the post: “Met with the future governor of Taniwha today. Disappointed.”
“Better go back to Newport. You were doing well there.”
“[[What I did well is true. But as governor I’ll do everything much better->Taniwha]]”The campaign kept rolling forward. Day after day you worked intensely, traveling between towns, shaking hands. Little by little you were building political capital to cash in on election day for the governorship and the veto power that comes with it.
Then something happened that could drop your rating to zero.
The Association of Indigenous Taniwhans publicly called on everyone to vote for Jessica Lee. If anyone didn’t like her, they suggested voting for Jack Montoya instead. As for you, they came out as strongly against you as possible, declaring you a threat to Taniwhan traditions.
Why?
Many places across Taniwha are sacred kapu sites, yet they are owned by the state as historical monuments. Indigenous Taniwhan communities have decided that, under modern kapu rules, only pure-blood humans—plus meta-humans and cyborgs whose modifications directly benefit the communities and have been explicitly approved by those communities—may enter sacred ground. As you can imagine, you personally would not be allowed on such territory because you would violate kapu. Since this happens constantly, the indigenous communities want meta-humans expelled and definitely do not want you as governor.
But then why are they backing Jessica Lee instead of Jack Montoya?
Even Mr. Ito and his team are trying to figure out what’s going on. She has an extremely strong team, massive funding, and some very influential people behind her. The support of just Kavihak (who is her social-media friend) isn’t enough to explain it. Someone planned this candidacy. Someone as powerful as Morph Inc or Pryanikoff.
[[It just keeps getting more and more interesting. I asked Kaoru and his analytics team to dig up whatever they can on her.]]
<<set $p to $p - 5>>You were calmly sitting in your office when one of the interns came up, stammering, and said that a rally had gathered outside. The protesters were demanding that you leave politics and, ideally, “fly away on your wings as far from the island as possible.”
What? Already? You hadn’t even become governor yet to earn that much public love.
You went outside. That was your mistake.
The protesters doused you with slop. You were stunned; they ruined your favorite custom-made suit, the one designed to fit comfortably around wings and tail. You calmed down a little, raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture; yes, you flipped them the double bird and started hurling truly vile insults, promising to peck out the eyes of everyone who had personally slopped you. It looks like someone filmed it. Still, it doesn’t lower you in the eyes of voters, because you were attacked first.
You returned to HQ, walked into your office, and noticed someone was calling you on the private line.
“Hello?”
“Malia Ortmann, Association of Indigenous Taniwhans. Have you seen our protest yet?”
“So you’re the ones who dumped slop on me?”
“What? No, that’s not how we do things...”
She hung up, then called back two minutes later.
“I’m sorry. I just spoke with the rally organizer. The protest is over because of those radicals. I’m personally ready to compensate the damage.”
“No big deal. Dry-cleaning is cheap. But I assume you organized that protest to pressure me into something?”
“Yes. One demand: withdraw from the race. If either Lee or Montoya signs the Health Act, no one will violate kapu on our territories ever again.”
“[[You’re not going to succeed. I don’t negotiate with political blackmailers. Under my governorship every meta-human will have freedom of movement in all public places in the state, including your sacred sites. You don’t get to usurp that right.]]”
“[[Hmm, what if… as governor I ban meta-humans from entering your kapu sites? But in exchange you campaign for me and stop recommending people vote for Jack...]]”Malia ended the call.
You felt like a winner and decided to seal it with a political post on social media, telling your followers how, among other things, how convenient it will be under your governorship for all citizens to visit historical sites, including for religious pilgrimage, because you plan to allocate extra funds not only for repairing roads (including the road straight to the volcano summit) but also for fixing the pedestrian paths, especially the famous “Stairway to Taniwha.”
The Association of Indigenous Taniwhans issued a statement to everyone declaring that political violence and any other form of radicalism are unacceptable. They posted the video of someone dumping slop on you and officially apologized for the actions of one of their supporters. However, they announced that they were unable to identify who did it.
Your campaign work continues. You’ve got this. You can do anything.
God bless the future governor.
[[God bless Taniwha]]
<<set $p to $p + 3>>“How would that work?”
And you explained it to her.
The sacred sites, including the boiling lake at the volcano’s summit (where, according to legend, the great Taniwha, master of the island, sleeps), are legally owned by the state and designated as historical monuments. You remember from school history lessons how that happened: Russian colonists arrived on the island but were not allowed beyond the Petrocity area, because half the island was declared sacred kapu. Fierce fighting broke out over the logging camps on the volcano’s slopes, where coniferous and deciduous timber suitable for shipbuilding (not just palm) could be harvested. In the treaty selling the island, the Russians formally claimed the entire island as theirs de jure while keeping quiet about the actual situation, so they could get more money and avoid ending the colony operations with a huge loss. As a result, the United States has always treated the whole island as federal territory, recognizing only the colonists’ houses and community dwellings as private property.
In practice, it was land taken from the indigenous population. Only once, in the 1920s, was the question of returning the territories to the indigenous inhabitants raised under a cooperation and historical-site restoration agreement. The state government at the time simply didn’t want to spend its already limited funds on cultural projects; it was busy fighting the Great Depression. And the indigenous Taniwhans didn’t have the money to maintain those sites sacred to them.
Now the Taniwhans do have the money to take almost all the state-owned sacred sites under their care. However, as long as those sites remain state property (even if managed by Taniwhans as contracted caretakers), anyone can still enter, because denying access to public places on the basis of religion or other characteristics is forbidden; state discrimination is not allowed.
But what if the ownership were privatized into the hands of the Association? Then a non-governmental organization could exercise the right of private discrimination and decide for itself who is allowed in and who isn’t. The catch is that this doesn’t work for sites officially recognized as cultural heritage objects. So the state government would first have to reclassify those territories as religious sites, then transfer them to local religious communities, which would have the legal right to control which worshippers may enter. If anyone claims the state government is interfering in religion or imposing Polynesian beliefs, you can simply reply that no—you are merely restoring historical justice to the indigenous people from whom those lands were originally taken.
“[[And then you won’t need to drive anyone out of the state at all. Plus the Association’s role in Taniwha will grow significantly. I’m pretty sure neither Lee nor Montoya has ever offered you such a generous gift, have they?]]”“This… is an extremely generous offer. Too generous to be true. How can you prove this isn’t just empty populism on your part?”
“Turn on video. I’ll show you.”
She did, and she saw the metal pin on your suit depicting the great Taniwha.
“It appears to me in dreams sometimes, foretelling great upheavals in the state that the two of us have to solve together to save the island. I don’t know whether it’s an actual spirit or just a metaphor my subconscious uses to push me into politics, but one thing I can say for sure: I will genuinely try to save Taniwha. Save it from needless deportations and from the historical injustice that could one day turn into ethnic tension.”
Malia promised to think over your words.
Some time later, the Association’s website published an article explaining that they had “made a mistake” and “mixed you up with Jack Montoya.” They had also “misspoken” in saying people should vote for you only if they didn’t like Jessica. In reality, the Association has no preference between the two of you and considers both of you ideal governors.
[[God bless Taniwha]]
<<set $p to $p + 9>>There was one month left until election day. There was also one week left before the deadline to withdraw from the race.
Because of that, Alex Beckett called you and suggested meeting.
This “traitor” (a loud label for someone who never swore loyalty to you and whom you yourself didn’t bring onto your campaign leadership team) wants you to discuss dropping out in favor of Jessica. You’re going to tell him exactly what you think of him.
After you agreed to meet Alex that evening at your campaign HQ, Ito Kaoru walked into the office.
“My friend, my team has found out who’s really behind Jessica. And yes, it was obvious, but we needed proof: Chenggong. She made a serious mistake by hiding information about her parents. Her mother, also a meta-human, is the niece of the corporation’s CEO. Her father is an Egyptian energy magnate and majority shareholder in United Solar Corporation. She moved to Taniwha, where she began supporting (financially and with volunteer work) charitable foundations, most of which later donated money to the Moderates’ campaign account, to Governor Kavihakowa’s campaigns, and to the Association of Indigenous Taniwhans. That’s all from public records of large donations. The connection is indirect, but there’s more interesting information. One of her old forum posts from a space-ship combat game…”
“What?”
“Yes, we even dug up stuff like that. In the post she wrote, and I quote: ‘In a year my grandpa is gonna buy a real shipyard just like this one. Keep playing your little computer games, you scaly asshole.’”
“You didn’t have to quote the whole thing… Wait… Gain control of Taniwha to gain control of the shipyard and hand the land over to Chenggong? That’s her goal? That’s awful—she’s worse than Jack Montoya; she’s pure corporate lobbying. We can make this public and she’ll have to drop out.”
“She’s no different from you or Jack.”
“[[What? Explain, please.]]”Kaoru revealed to you the open secret everyone already knew. You were one of the few naive fools who, despite being in politics, never grasped the obvious.
Why is Pryanikoff attacking meta-humans? To hurt Morph Inc. They would force the entire medical-modification business on the island to shut down. Is that a problem for Morph Inc? The market is tiny—only about twenty thousand people have undergone procedures. The real issue is the non-core military division, “Morph Inc – Military.” It controls the shipyard on Taniwha that was rebuilt after Free Human Day, where naval and space-military vessels are constructed. Strategically, it’s a priceless asset that can be seized by renegotiating the land-sale agreement.
The Taniwha government has the right to buy back the land and the entire shipyard at any time. That’s how Kavihak bought the destroyed shipyard from Pryanikoff and handed it to Morph Inc, which promised to rebuild it quickly. But then Chenggong stepped in and started backing Kavihak through Jessica Lee. And then a fourth player entered the game.
“Who?”
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. He was horrified that the CEO of Morph Inc had committed treason by publicly disclosing classified information about the company’s military experiments. He revealed that the military was developing a new superweapon: bombs that could genetically liquefy Drakians—turning them into slime—regardless of whether they were combatants or civilians. Under favorable conditions for Earth, those bombs could wipe out their entire planet. Robert Kennedy Jr. ordered all military contracts with Morph Inc halted and all military assets seized, but in peacetime he lacked emergency powers, so he operated within the law—through persuasion and lawsuits—trying to convince the governor to transfer the shipyard to federal ownership.
Now Pryanikoff and Chenggong have each put forward their own puppet candidates to gain control of the shipyard. In Montoya’s case, meta-humans are just pawns in the bigger game; it’s simply one of his conditions in the deal. He genuinely believes he’s saving humanity on the island by doing it. Jessica’s intentions beyond the shipyard are still unclear. But Robert Kennedy doesn’t care either way. To him, Morph Inc (an American company run by “the enemy of America and all humanity”), the Soviet corporation Pryanikoff (the U.S. Army’s prime contractor), and the Chinese-Japanese Chenggong (ready to pour massive investments into American defense) are all equally close and equally distant.
“[[So... we’re all playing a dirty game? Even me? Even though I had no idea. I honestly thought Morph Inc just wanted to protect its medical business and help meta-humans.]]”Actually, you and Jack are fighting a relatively clean fight. Jack, as a fanatic, probably wasn’t fully aware of Pryanikoff's plans either. But Jessica is the one working in the dark. She hid her parents, ran a secret campaign to hand the shipyard over to Chenggong, and secured financial support for the Moderates, the Association of Indigenous Taniwhans, and Governor Kavihak. If all this information were to be made public, it could easily destroy her political career.
“But we shouldn't leak it.”
“Why?!”
“If we orchestrate a leak, Chenggong will retaliate with counter-propaganda (and they have a strong presence on social media). We need a different approach. Either hope that independent voters uncover the truth about Jessica themselves—there are plenty of analysts and investigators among them who care about the transparency of those they elect.”
“Thank you, Kaoru. I understand. Let's hope.”
[[I went back to my routine, waiting for the evening and my meeting with Beckett]]Evening was falling. The headquarters was gradually emptying out. The last to leave was Ito Kaoru (though he’d be the first to return: in two hours). You stayed in the office until the doorbell rang. Someone had come to your headquarters. Alex Beckett. The traitor.
[[Time to show this asshole exactly what I think of him!]]You… hugged him and patted him on the shoulder.
“Welcome to the future governor’s headquarters, haha,” you declared. Alex just smiled.
“Jessica’s HQ has more computers. Though you’ve got a walking computer—that’s pretty cool.”
“Alright, Alex,” you headed into your office, offered him a chair, and sat down on another chair yourself. “Let’s get straight to the point. You want to propose that I drop out of the race, right?”
“Yes. In return, we offer the position of Head of the Infrastructure Department. Oh, and besides that, if you drop out, we promise to veto Jack Montoya’s bill.”
You smiled at the coyote: “Alex, Jessica will veto that bill anyway. You wouldn’t go against yourself.”
“Fine. I was bluffing on that one. The rest is true. Do you accept these terms?”
“[[Yes. I'm willing to make a deal. But in addition to considering my position, you'll also have to accept part of my political program.]]”
[[Respond with a sharp refusal and tell this conman everything I’ve been thinking to his face!]]
“[[Actually, it’s your employer who should drop out. I have some rather interesting information...]]”“Alex, I expect you at my election celebration party and on inauguration day. Bring your family if you like.”
“So you’re refusing. Okay. Then I wish you victory, because I want to see that party. But I also wish Jessica and me success. So don’t expect an easy win, and be ready for the harsh consequences of your respected, ambitious, bold, but foolish move.”
You shook each other’s hands. Alex left.
[[But Jessica Lee wasn’t the only one who wanted you out of the race this week.]]If it weren’t for the coyote’s fur, you would have seen Alex pale with horror.
“No, you wouldn’t dare...”
“I will publish all of this if your Jessica doesn’t drop out of the race.”
“We need to think...”
“You have until tomorrow. Tomorrow, you must hold a press conference where Jessica announces her withdrawal.”
A bewildered Alex silently left your headquarters.
[[I began waiting for tomorrow’s press conference]]Election day. Coalition candidate Jessica Lee won the election and a month later officially took office, proposing your candidacy to the state congress for the position of Head of the Infrastructure Department.
You were not confirmed. The Moderates did not vote unanimously, while We the People and the Transhumanist Party voted unanimously against. No one likes a traitor. Within those two parties themselves, a political crisis began because a third party was now consistently winning elections and had elected its second governor. Believing in the strength of the Moderates, voters started leaving the bio-conservatives and transhumanists to join the Moderates.
You returned to Newport, but even there you couldn’t find voter support. Everyone believed you had betrayed and sold them out.
You, on the other hand, believed it was all worth it, because a compromise figure had won—with her many flaws, but one key virtue: she vetoed Jack Montoya’s bill.The next day. 4:30 PM Washington time. Press conference by Ava Moore, Director of the FBI Field Office in Taniwha:
“Thank you all for gathering this evening. I want to confirm the fact that one of the candidates for governor of Taniwha was detained two hours ago while exiting their home. Despite the wave of misinformation already spreading on social media, I want to state that the candidate has not been charged, but the candidate has been detained for 24 hours for questioning as part of our investigation. I repeat, the candidate has not been charged at this time. I must confirm that, under a federal judge’s warrant, the FBI installed surveillance in the campaign headquarters of each candidate as part of an investigation into widespread FARA violations during the Taniwha gubernatorial election. These violations have not been confirmed; however, there is reason to suspect that during the campaign, one of the candidates violated 18 U.S. Code Section 873, federal extortion law. All materials have been referred to the federal prosecutor for consideration of possible indictment by a Grand Jury. I am now ready to take your questions.”The next day. Official broadcast of the Taniwha Senate.
Jack Montoya approaches the podium, takes out a folder of documents, and begins his speech.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Speaker. Esteemed colleagues, due to a public health emergency and the criminal delay by our colleague Johnson, the former chair of the Health Committee, I move to suspend the rules so that the Taniwha Senate and House of Representatives can expedite the passage of the ‘Health Act,’ which would grant citizens the right to free medical care.”
14 out of 20 senators voted in favor. The Moderates and We the People voted yes; 5 transhumanists voted against, and 1 transhumanist abstained. This gave the Senate the right to proceed under expedited rules. Jack Montoya thanked his colleagues. Now his bill could easily pass two votes today and be sent to the House, then signed by Governor Kavihak. She would now have to do it to prevent a common enemy.
There was a problem, however: the “Health Act” could only be signed three days after passage. But if it were passed, the candidates would have three days left in the week (Jack claims it’s due to Johnson’s delay, but this rush actually works in his favor) to pass the health certification. Jack would certainly pass; Jessica would most likely pass as well. As for you…
You wouldn’t have enough time to revert from your meta-human “unhealthy” form back to your original one. You would be disqualified from the race. Even if you managed to revert and could continue campaigning, you would still lose: you could veto the bill, but you couldn’t repeal the law.
Something had to be done.
[[Appeal to Governor Kavihakova to veto this monstrous bill. Rally voters, organize protests in Petrocity and major cities calling for a veto]]
[[File a petition with the state court to halt consideration of the bill]]
Both options are imperfect. Kavihak publicly positions herself as a centrist voice of reason, but she may be an opportunist influenced by Chenggong. Courts are typically approached to halt the enforcement of a law, not a bill, but your situation is unique: once the bill passes, you will lose your political right to participate in this election.This is awesome!
In just three days you managed to organize massive rallies that drew thirty thousand people. Regular humans, cyborgs, and metas marched shoulder-to-shoulder through the streets, chanting demands that the governor veto the bill while any risk of discrimination remained.
You were fired up by the rallies’ success. You believed you could change everything. Wonderful people—your supporters—came out with total sincerity and heart to defend morphological rights in the state. You believed Kavihak would veto the bill.
Your hopes were NOT fulfilled.
Three days later the governor signed the bill into law. You had three days left to comply. Montoya and Lee both obtained their health certificates and continued their campaigns. You returned to Newport and submitted your resignation as mayor in accordance with the new law.
For six months you stayed in Newport, living in seclusion, barely leaving the house, still in shock over what had happened. But your savings ran out, so you had to sell the house and start a new life in California. Morph Inc gave you a job and a small company apartment. Many who refused to bend to the system and chose to remain themselves were far less fortunate.You filed for a TRO (temporary restraining order) during the judicial review, arguing that enactment of the law would almost immediately strip you of your voting rights because you would be declared “unhealthy.” The application for the temporary restraining order against the bill was also justified by the fact that the bill might be found legally sound and therefore not struck down, yet its very passage, however, could contradict the will of the people of Taniwha, who favor vetoing it. Thus the mere signing of the law would already cause irreparable political damage.
It was an extremely risky move, but Morph Inc assigned you the corporation’s top legal team—the same one that defended the CEO and managed to get him the minimum possible sentence.
And the risk… paid off.
The lawyers convinced the judge and promise to extend the temporary injunction for two months. After that, the court will rule that the bill is not discriminatory and will give the governor the right to sign or veto it.
[[The main thing is that I’m the one who becomes that governor.]]
<<set $p to $p + 1>>Your personal phone rang. Unknown number.
“The people will never forgive you for delaying help to the sick.”
“Who is this?”
“Your worst enemy. You’ve finally shown your true inhuman face. You’re ready to doom every human being to suffering just for the sake of your demonic feathers and wings.”
“You’re the one who doomed these people to suffering, you idiot! Your bill is just a sham that hides behind ‘helping people.’”
“Alien spawn, I will use every power at my disposal to bury your political career forever. Then I’ll win the election and finally save the health and souls of the Taniwhan people. And I sincerely hope you’ll do what everyone else does and stop resisting the restoration of your humanity.”
“[[I don’t need to ‘restore’ my humanity, because it’s always been right here. What you need, Jack, is therapy.]]”For the entire month your campaign was caught in a storm. Lawyers were bombarded with lawsuits from organizations tied to We the People. Your canvassers constantly had to repeat that you are not against free medical care and that you will support the Health Act if amendments are made to remove the discrimination.
Jack Montoya’s words were not empty threats. Your polling numbers took a serious hit.
<<if $p >54>><<set $p to 47>><<else>><<set $p to $p - 7>><</if>>
<<if $p >39>>[[I just have to hold on until election day->You]]<</if>><<if $p > 30 and $p <40>>[[I just have to hold on until election day->Montoya]]<</if>><<if $p <31>>[[I just have to hold on until election day->Lee]]<</if>>And despite the vicious smear campaign, despite every dirty trick your opponents threw at you, you won. Taniwha is now in safe hands. You silently thanked the Taniwha Constitution for having no runoff in gubernatorial elections.
But it’s not time to celebrate too much yet. The most important thing now is to defend your victory. One more month of fighting. Your lawyers battled the legal teams of the other candidates and the State Election Commission to certify your first-place finish.
In the meantime, Kavihak showed you the governor’s office. Everything was clean, neat, and crisp, with simple and modern renovation. No big deal; under you, this office will be buried from floor to ceiling in endless stacks of paper.
And the very first piece of paper will be the Health Act, which you...
[[Sign]]
[[Veto]]While you and Jessica were fighting over the same moderate and technocrat voters, Jack Montoya won by mobilizing the radical and conservative electorate.
The time of man had come. And only Jack Montoya, with his Health Act, got to decide who could truly be called human and granted full human rights.
One month later, Jack signed the bill and also bought the shipyard back from “Morph Inc – Military,” declaring that Taniwha was now free from a business built on violence and dehumanization.
You are sunbathing on the beach, every feather feeling the gentle warmth of the sunlight.
What else is there to do? Just relax and enjoy life.
Though the second part about enjoying life isn’t really working out, and you keep thinking about packing up and moving to another state.My God! It’s happened! Victory day has come!
The Moderate Party has finally entrenched itself in Taniwha. Jessica Lee’s win proves that a third force can pose a real threat to the current American two-party system—at least here in Taniwha.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. officially congratulated the new governor and proposed holding a Defense Expo in one month, where the U.S. military and other nations, along with defense-tech companies, can showcase their weaponry to buyers and the public. Chenggong announced it will be the general partner of the event.
As for the ill-fated Health Act, Jessica vetoed it after her inauguration and requested amendments. First and foremost, she demanded that the definition of a “healthy person” be broadened to include many cyborgs. Jack Montoya declared that he accepts this compromise and will continue working tirelessly for We the People, for Taniwha, for the success of Governor Lee’s administration, and for all of humanity.You’re serious?! After all that work, all the political sacrifices made for your election, you’re just going to go ahead and sign Jack Montoya’s bill???
You will go down as the weirdest politician in history. You’re even stranger than Vermin Supreme. And that guy has worn a boot on his head his entire life. You’ve outdone him!
How could you? You betrayed your ideals! For what?
[[Author, I was just testing the button. Why are you so worked up, huh?]]With one stamp—“Vetoed”—you bought peace of mind, because after a while the bill could have been automatically enacted. In the accompanying note to the state legislature, senators, and representatives, you wrote that you would sign the bill if the criteria for a healthy body were broadened and the employment ban on “unhealthy” citizens was removed.
Jack Montoya tried to override your veto with a two-thirds majority but failed: some representatives and senators defected to the winning team. Not only Moderates, but even some from We the People are switching to the transhumanists.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. congratulated you on the victory and expressed hope that, as the first meta-human governor, you will be able to ensure peace in society. And that is exactly what you intend to do. You will make Taniwha a place where everyone can live, create, and love freely—regardless of whether a resident is a baseline human, a meta-human, a cyborg, a cybernetic, or even a Drakian. You will guarantee equality under the law, and your administration will solve the problems of the people of Taniwha.Just testing the button, huh? So you treat my very serious story so flippantly?! You know what? You’re doing everything right :)Your popularity in Taniwha: $p %
[[Go to the first choice. Skip the introduction or return to the first choice]]
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<a href="https://wyrm-games.itch.io/taniwha" target="_blank">Exit game</a>
<a href="https://complexnumbers.ru/merm/" target="_blank">The music</a> was created by a Complex Numbers (Viktor Argonov's Project).[[Social candidate.]] The site’s main focus will be on receiving voter appeals. Kaoru will deploy his own neural network that will (a) guide voters on how to solve their problems themselves (e.g., by generating a ready-to-sign petition or application with all their personal data already filled in), or (b) forward the request directly to campaign HQ, where you, as the candidate, will personally resolve it.
[[Patriotic candidate.]] Red-white-and-blue stripes everywhere, endless promises to love Taniwha and America, historical references, a full calendar of national and state holidays, short patriotic slogans, and animated videos of bald eagles merging with a human figure to become a giant anthropomorphic eagle brutally beating up a massive ape, a fire-breathing lizard, and a magical squid—symbolizing the state’s internal and external threats.
[[Intellectual candidate.]] The entire website is essentially an encyclopedia built around your personal political platform (actually written overnight by Mr. Ito after analyzing your entire political record). Every voter can dive as deep as they want—from short summaries to hundreds of pages of detailed policy—on exactly how Taniwha should be governed.
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