At the first stage BgBRo did the first analysis, searching all forms of social media as well as every private data base that was hooked to the Earthnet. That meant everyone on this slowly spinning, slowly dying, slowly hoping planet was analyzed. BgBRo’s speed had accelerated over the years, so that on the first Monday in the second Month at the third hour GMT, within four minutes, the ten selections were made. They were based only on the best candidates who had not been involved in any negative activities whether that be in writing or pictures shared or comments from others. Wherever the selected were at the time of the selection, at work or even in bed, a live-cam projected their images on every screen on the whole planet. Those who had turned off their cell phones or TVs, were awakened as their devices were automatically turned on. I myself was in a deep sleep since I was nine hours behind the 3 GMT. My cell phone rumbled and its glare filled my bedroom with midday light. I pulled the covers tight over my face as the names of those selected as a candidate for WP (World President) were read by BgBRo, whose voice was neither male nor female yet pleasant, non-binary, perfectly not gendered, friendly voice.

I knew the broadcast would last a little more than five minutes and they always started with number ten ranking first and moved up from there. As they neared number three, my eyelids became heavy again until I heard number one from the list: Norman Tanner. I sat straight up in bed, that’s me! I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and saw myself, unshaven, bare chested, with dark circles under my eyes. I took a deep breath as my image faded from the screen. Of course it didn’t mean that I was president yet, but it meant I had to report to the local authorities for the final test and that meant as soon as it was morning on the second day of the second month at nine in the morning local time.

I had worked so hard trying to avoid any use of social media. My cell phone was only there for work and my friends made fun of me since I only visited them in person or left a slip of paper on their desk or slipped it under their doors at their homes. They called me Not-Normal-Norman. I accepted it like a noble title. I had tried so hard. I didn’t have a television to watch so they couldn’t analyze and categorize what I streamed. Every thing I did, I tried to do without a keyboard or touch screen. It was not easy and not always possible.

I gulped hard and got up realizing that there was no way for me to sleep. The car would show up for me, they would take me, and then they would install a chip in my head to attach the long wires that would feed my thoughts directly into BgBRo. I jumped into the shower shivering and didn’t stop until the steaming stream warmed me from outside to in. I put on my clothes, ate toast while I drank a coffee, and waited at the door. They came, they knocked and I opened the door. It was two standard LiLBgBRos with their face recognition faces analyzing mine.

“Norman Tanner, accompany us please.” Again voices pleasant, non-gendered and happy to serve.

When I arrived, I was greeted by a rusty headed woman with rosy cheeks to match. Her blouse with a mixed print of irises and lilacs seemed very out of place on a mid-winter morning. Even though she was of real flesh and blood just like me, she mimicked those voices of all the kinds of BgBRos, friendly and ready to be of service.

She glowed with a white neon halo from all the screens behind her, “Oh, how exciting! You’re the first person chosen from our district ever!”

She danced light.y around the lab.

The two bots who had accompanied me brought me forward to a chair and I could see the chipping device lying next to the one packaged alcohol swab. She picked it and continued to chat, “Why did you know, from all your public data your slate was judged 99% clean! There was just one phone call when you were seventeen when you used…well you know…one of those words that’s not so pure.”

So, they even had all the calls I had ever made in my life, a teenager calling a friend, who knows what I said. There was a swipe at the back of my head and then a slight sting.

“Now we’re ready. The last check just to see what an upstanding person you are. You might be the President of the World tomorrow!”

She was much more excited than I. I felt the wire go in, and then I had to smile as I saw the look of surprise on her face. My thoughts rolled out on the screens in that lab. Everything I had pondered, considered and would have like to have done if I had lived in a different time.

My hands un-balled. I relaxed into the chair and let all those stories roll out. A smutty, dirty, untidy deluge. I knew I wouldn’t be World President on the third day of the second month at 4 pm GMT.