George Bush’S Great America [EN]: Chapter 273

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“So, how long will it take?”

“Please, don’t say such crazy things. How long has it been since the budget increased, and you’re already giving us another huge responsibility?”

That’s what he said.

“We’ve only just started the lunar orbital space station project, and now you want a lunar base? It’s absolutely impossible by 2008. Are we short on money? Yes, we are. We could probably sell the entire United States and still not have enough.”

Director O’Keefe, his face as red as a tomato, swallowed his anger and explained in the quietest tone possible just how absurd Bush’s ambition was.

“You seem to be misunderstanding. I’m not asking you to get it done by 2008, but rather when it might be possible.”

The moment he heard those words, thoughts raced through O’Keefe’s mind like beads rolling around.

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand politics. On the contrary, he knew it all too well. He was already aware that the government had recently begun to tighten its grip.

NASA’s budget had started to increase significantly, but there was no department to properly oversee the growing organization. Rumor had it that a department would soon be revived in an independent form, and this was highly credible information.

It was the National Space Council, a department that had originally ceased to exist in 1993. It was in charge of all space-related policies, but it was dismantled by President George H.W. Bush, who considered it an obstacle, and integrated into the National Science and Technology Council.

To be precise, it was dismantled after the elder Bush left office, but all the procedures were essentially carried out during his tenure, so it was no exaggeration to say that he dismantled it. This dismantling involved political friction between NASA, which was run by former astronauts, and the National Space Council, which was not.

But now, the organization that the father had dismantled was about to be revived by the son.

‘Just how far ahead is this guy looking?’

Frankly, NASA was essentially under the president’s protection. The reason why the budget, which had shrunk to an incomparable degree after the Cold War, was able to grow again to a considerable level, if not to its former glory, and the reason why this was maintained, was all thanks to the president, who was smiling kindly before his eyes.

‘No, why is he looking so far ahead?’

Why? No matter how much he questioned it, the answer was always the same. He knew it, but as a human who loved freedom and democracy, and because President George W. Bush was the one who had embraced NASA, he had been trying to deny it.

‘Could it be that the rumors are true?’

The rumor was that he was aiming for a third term, which was why he had been so quiet while generously distributing the power that had been concentrated until now. Of course, since Roosevelt, the U.S. Constitution had been amended to prevent presidents from serving more than two terms.

A constitutional amendment was, as the name suggested, a constitution that could be amended. Even the freedom of expression in the First Amendment had long been ignored and suppressed. To be precise, it wasn’t suppression, but rather guiding the public in the right direction and inciting the people who had been inspired by the eradication of police corruption, but in any case, it didn’t change the fact that it was ignored.

So, in other words, even if the 22nd Amendment [limiting presidential terms] were to be ignored now, few people would care. If the people wanted it, if the president wanted it, and if Congress wanted it, it would truly be realized.

Congress would vehemently oppose it, but Congress was ultimately powerless when faced with public opinion.

Their lives depended on votes and public sentiment.

They could ignore and trample on individual citizens as much as they needed to, but if those citizens came together as a group, they could never defeat them.

‘If what’s attached to my pathetic body is normal, I have to hope that what I’m thinking now isn’t just empty delusion.’

The current NASA budget is $85 billion. Moreover, the president was publicly promising to increase this excessive budget even further. And NASA is more popular than any other government agency in the United States. Isn’t this the perfect condition for Bush to be re-elected?

Of course, if it were another president, it wouldn’t be enough to just provide a lot of support to NASA, but the problem was that this would still affect the disregard for the Constitution.

Moreover, it was obvious that NASA’s budget would be cut as soon as he left office. It would probably drop to around $20 billion.

He had once considered going to Louisiana State University for the president’s position, which was offered at $500,000, but that fell through because his current salary had risen to $520,000. This salary would probably continue to rise.

So, the conclusion is.

“If the budget continues to increase like this, a basic base will be possible even in 2020.”

As someone who had to run this huge organization, and as a materialist who was skilled at accumulating wealth in his own coffers, he was simply making the most rational decision.

“But as you know, space development is the field with the most trial and error.”

Bush immediately understood what this cunning director was trying to say.

‘He just wants more money.’

That’s what he was planning to do anyway. He had already made such a big deal out of it, and next year, even more money would be poured into NASA. Bush was ignorant about space development, but he knew that even if they literally ground NASA’s talent into bone meal, dried it, and scattered it on the spacecraft, building a lunar base in 2020 was still a distant dream.

‘Once I’m gone, the budget will be slashed, and it’ll be hard to even estimate whether it’ll be possible by 2030, let alone 2020. Is that just wishful thinking? Or is he just that passionate?’

“Don’t worry, the budget will increase further. And so will your salary.”

The director seemed satisfied and went on to tell more stories. They were topics that could create an interest in space development where none existed, but frankly, Bush thought he was pushing it a bit to justify the budget. Maybe he was negotiating his salary rather than the budget.

“It’s really fortunate that nothing special happened today.”

Who was it that said that? It was an unwritten rule never to say such things. No sooner had he uttered those words than the phone rang like crazy.

“Chief of Staff, what’s going on?”

Something had happened in Brazil.

***

When you think of Brazil, you usually think of the country of soccer, but in political circles around the world, it has a different meaning.

Because Brazil has always been a perennial contender since its founding.

A vast landmass ranking 5th in the world, with a huge population. A vast amount of natural resources that have yet to be fully measured and remain quietly dormant, and the Amazon rainforest, the lungs of the Earth, with enormous research value.

However, to the CIA agents stationed there, Brazil was just a backward country with some domestic drug cartels.

“Goddamn it.”

The person who just cursed was a friend who had been demoted for misunderstanding an order from above. Well, he had misunderstood the order to simply imprison someone, treated them like a prisoner from before the Geneva Convention [international laws for humanitarian treatment in war], and messed up a judge, so it was fortunate that he hadn’t been kicked out.

Conversely, it also meant that the higher-ups were not properly managing the now excessively large CIA, and it didn’t seem like the CIA, with its power, had any intention of attacking the current president.

It was like a lion showing its belly to its keeper.

Before we get into this story, we need to define what a drug is.

Not whether it’s legal or illegal. We want to discuss the essence of drugs.

Now, let’s think about it. If you’re living a decent life, your parents always tell you things when you’re young.

‘Don’t watch porn, don’t play games! Don’t smoke, and don’t drink!’ Things like that.

So, did you never do those things because your parents told you not to? The rebellious souls going through their second growth spurt, wanting their sons and daughters to succeed, found ways to get around the ironclad surveillance. And they enjoyed it. It’s the same with drugs.

The trajectory is a bit different, but the addictiveness is incomparable to the above examples. Moreover, those who come into contact with these things are more free-spirited than the mere teenagers.

And they know how to develop ingenious methods that are incomparable to children. For example, since drugs themselves are illegal, they can simply create or buy legal drugs.

Law seems like a powerful device to maintain order on the surface, but in reality, it’s full of holes.

The way the current President George W. Bush wields the most powerful power in American history is the same. He simply reinterprets the ‘law.’

With that alone, he became a king in America. A king in a free and democratic country. It’s not a nickname given to a famous sports player like in soccer, and it’s a very strange nickname for a politician, but that’s what his position and power were like.

And this nickname was given to him by the CIA.

‘Well, at least he’s not a god.’

Even as he was thinking that, bullets were flying over his head. Occasionally, bullets would hit the glass remaining in the windows, scattering fragments at the agent.

Unable to bear it, the agent quietly slipped out the back door of the building and entered a building that looked as sturdy as possible. It was a private house, and a civilian who appeared to be the owner of the house glared at the white man who had barged in with his military boots, as if bewildered.

But that didn’t last long either. Bullets rained down on the thick front door. The homeowner fled somewhere.

“You stupid bastards! You’ve watched too many movies, haven’t you? You think you can do anything to this steel door with guns?”

The agent shouted without realizing it, as the situation was not good. But this was not just an empty boast uttered in a corner. This wasn’t just a wooden door, it was a steel door.

A properly made steel door won’t break even if you fire a machine gun at it, let alone a rifle. Rather, it would be fixed as it is because the hinges would break down after being hit by lead bullets. As he was catching his breath, he heard a very familiar sound.

It sounded like hitting a pillow with a baseball bat, or like pulling a cork out of a champagne or wine bottle.

‘This, this!’

He knew this sound all too well. So, the moment he heard this sound, he was startled, and before he could come to his senses, his body was already moving as trained.

‘Grenade!’

He barely managed to throw himself behind the wall. It was more important that blood was beading on his bronze skin than the stinging pain hitting his brain like a baseball player’s arm.

This isn’t Mexico, and they’re just fighting among gangs, so how can grenades fly around? It was only for a moment, but he thought that soon, not just grenades, but Soviet-made old-fashioned anti-tank missiles might be flying around.

‘Is it a single shot?’

It was fortunate in misfortune. Even though he was rotten, he was still a crucian carp [a common but resilient fish, implying he’s still capable]. Before that incident, he was a well-known elite agent of the CIA. How did he end up like this?