“Don’t call me Ben Carson anymore. From now on, my name will be Science Man.”
The crowd around him seemed disconcerted by their Vice President’s strange revelation, but they mostly nodded in acceptance. Science Man continued his speech, but as he droned on about the taxation of cybernetic enhancement equipment, or the abolition of cybervehicles that didn’t run on recycled plastics, he noticed a dropship circling above Trump Towers. Science Man focused more closely on the ship with his MagnaLens. That did not look like a mere transport ship… No….
“Look out,” Science Man whispered as loudly as he could. The crowd, apparently able to hear him, collectively ducked as fireballs streamed their way down from the dropship in the sky and burst against the building behind them. One man, a reporter, had failed to dodge and instantly caught on fire, turning to ash within moments. “This way!” Science Man told the crowd. They followed him into Trump Towers to get cover from the dropship.
Once inside, Science Man could tell he had lost the others; most were panicking, and a couple ran back outside, only to be incinerated almost instantly. “What can we do, Science Man?!” one woman asked.
“Well, there’s only one thing we really can do, ma’am,” he said with the calming tone of a peacock looking for a mate. He projected a holographic representation of his mind, displaying mathematical calculations and visualizations of chemicals to access the limitless catalogue of information locked within his head. He put up his hand to stop his thought process. “There’s likely a major donnybrook going on at the top floor of the tower. President Trump should be there. I should see if he is in need of my assistance. Is anyone else combat-trained?” No-one raised their hands. “Well, that’s all alright,” he said. “I believe I can hold my own.”
And hold his own he did.
He ascended the 10,000 stairs of Trump Towers. At the top of each flight, there were soldiers positioned to kill anyone who dared climb, but they were no match for Science Man’s superior intellect. He reflected beams of light off shiny objects, anything that could give off a reflection, which blinding the soldiers and caused their shots to miss. Not that they would have pierced him in the first place, given his ray shielding he could activate at any given moment.
After dropkicking one soldier on the sixtieth floor, Science Man was able to bind his hands and feet so that the man could not commit suicide like the others who wanted to escape Science Man’s reckoning. “I’d like to know what your plan is,” Science Man said.
“Burn in hell, you Tea Party-loving fuck.” The soldier bit down on a cyanide capsule in his mouth. However, Science Man quickly forced the man’s mouth open and rewrote the chemical makeup of the cyanide into mostly harmless diet Sprite. He was quick enough to save the man, fortunately.
“Like I said before, your assistance would prove beneficial,” he said once again.
“Please, just kill me,” the soldier pleaded. “I can’t let her know I failed!”
“Her?” Science Man stood up from the man and fixed his glasses, then smiled. “You could have told me that from the beginning, you know. I appreciate your help, though.”
Science Man bolted out of the room, leaving the man’s fate in his own hands. From the gunshot he heard seconds later, it was likely that the man let the Good Judge decide. And from what Science Man knew, he was not merciful. He would have been better to let himself face this mysterious “her”… Who was obviously none other than Queen Rodham de Arkansas, Lordess of Benghazi, also known as… Hilldog. She had been plotting against President Trump for decades, even in this new age of technological peace, and this would be only the latest and most bold move to take the crown she believed she deserved.
The rest of Science Man’s climb proved uneventful. He struck down every being that crossed his path, all of whom were belligerents. One soldier shot Science Man through the leg while he was distracted by killing his six partners, severely damaging him. “I don’t feel pain,” he said to himself. “But I feel weakened. I don’t like it.” Nevertheless, he galumphed along his path and eventually reached the penthouse at the top of Trump Towers.
Kicking the door open with his undamaged leg, he shouted with the force of an injured rabbit, “Hilldog, I’m here for you.” But Hilldog was nowhere to be seen. Before him was the face of Carly Fiorina in full battle gear, holding President Trump at gunpoint. “What is this tommyrot?”
“Ben!” Trump shouted. “Kill this fucking asshole for me. Make blood run out of her eyes, and her… whatever.” Fiorina hit him with the butt of her gun.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet. And my name is Science Man, President Trump.”
Trump cachinnated. “What? ‘Science Man’? That makes no sense. Ben, what are you on?”
Fiorina pulled out a second gun and pointed it at Science Man. “Both of you, shut up! I’m not letting you two get away with what you’ve done! You abandoned me, left me the only outsider while you two became the ultimate insiders! And you act like I never existed in the first place!”
Science Man chuckled softly. “Carly, Carly. It wasn’t anything you or we did to cause what happened. It was only the fate of happenstance that led us to become glory itself.”
“Of course you can say that, you’re the Vice President!” Carly began bawling. Science Man realized he had only this instant to act. He once again let himself visualize the numbers within his mind and figured out what precisely his next move should be. He threw his gun into the air; in shock, Carly shot at it. Science Man had a split second window of chance, so he tackled her onto the ground, caught his gun, and pulled the trigger at her face.
President Trump stood up and brushed off his pants. “Good one, Ben. I never thought that bitch would do something so—“ A bullet shattered Trump’s skull, and he collapsed onto the ground.
Science Man lowered his gun and threw it aside. Poor Carly Fiorina, so desperate in her old age that she would kill the President out of petty revenge. It was unfortunate that Science Man was unable to rescue the President in time… Nevetheless, he would reluctantly take over his office and perform his duty as the forty-sixth President of the United States of America.