I stood upon the pedestal, my hand placed on the book and the words flowing from my mouth smoothly, perfectly. They loved me.

"Congratulations, Ms. Erwin!" Mariel said excitedly.

"Are the preparations for the party complete?" I asked.

"They're good, ma'am," Oksam replied smartly.

"Hurry along and get ready," I said in a friendly manner. "Look your best!" I pulled my cheeks into a caring smile.

Once they left, my smile vanished.

I stalked back to my room and loosened the hinges, pulling myself apart.

Loose screws and knobs littered the floor.

"Fools. They're all fools, those humans."

I laughed.

She told me on her deathbed.

"Honey," she said to me, her voice weak with age, her gray paper hands resting on mine, "your father wasn't human."

"What?" I said. My voice shuddered.  

"He didn't die in a spacecraft crash, like I told you." She paused, took shallow breaths. Her heart was failing, but I waited anxiously for her to finish, squeezing her skeleton-thin fingers impatiently. 

"Your father was an alien," she said. 

I blinked. "But that would mean--"

"Yes," she finished. 

I cleared my throat. "Aliens can't be president."

She smiled. "Don't tell anyone then, Mr. President."

I had checked and rechecked all my calculations, filling pages with the scribbles; there was only one possible conclusion. The President walked and talked like a 50-year-old man - but I wasn't buying it. The Kirlian photographs looked very different from anything I'd seen among my neighbors, and the gnostic numerology confirmed it. I sighed and adjusted my tinfoil hat.

I activated my portable radio, cursing the primitive electronics I'd had to rig it from. The Justiciars had said not to call unless something extraordinary happened, and this counted.

"We have a problem," I said, slipping easily back into Rigellian.

"I'm not human." Said the president. 

"So your birth certificate is forged?" I asked.

He sighs.

"You have to pretend to be human to be accepted in this world." I emphasized as I opened my kit. "Now hold still this time, you're worse then the toddler I just saw." I said, then treated his leg wound with silver and applied a fresh coat of skin. 

As I stood up I straightened my uniform and headed out the door.

"Goodnight Nurse Ruth" he said.

"Goodnight President Trump." I said. 

I had no idea. I thought it was a joke.

Look, just please listen.

I work for the President, who's been in power for sixty years. We assumed it was just a by-product of the modern age; of course people were living longer. The war was a tough time, so we let him keep serving. 

I was to meet with him. I went to the Oval Office, only to find his eyes yellow and skin green and scaly. "No," I whispered. "It's just propoganda, it has to be!"

President Trump laughed. "Lizards have always run the government."

What I saw was far beyond chilling.

The President removed his head from the rest of his body with his own hands. I realized they were not human hands. They were machine. The President of Earth had just been elected and none of the voters knew he wasn't "he" at all. Why? What was its purpose? Was it benevolent? Malevolent? Neutral? 

Despite the feelings of fear, I had to smile. It all made perfect sense now. Why President Ainson never fabricated the truth; why the President never made a mistake while speaking; why his brilliance was so renowned globally. 

Wow.

We are on opposite sides of a wooden desk in a white house.

"Do you plan to implement any laws regarding robots?" I ask.

She doesn't speak.

"Your voters are scared that they will take over our jobs, our towns, even the world!" I prompt her.

Silence.

"And so am I, frankly. They're not even human! Why should we treat them as such?"

Her gaze is cold steel as she removes her jacket, top button, middle button—

Metal. Wires. Oscillators.

I am speechless as she leans forward.

"Because mechanical hearts still feel pain."

     Earth's newest President is effortlessly charming. Everyone he's ever met has adored him, even the most critical and ornery people. It comes as no surprise that he won the election in a landslide. His victory speech was optimistic and rousing, full of energy and great plans for the future. At the Inauguration Ball, he was absolutely brilliant, mingling with everyone and making them feel valued and important. 

      Maybe that's how I knew something was off. When no one was looking, his happy expression melted off, leaving a cruel and alien visage, quickly replaced when an ambassador greeted him.

     I'm scared.

November 2076

Dear Diary,

What I write today chills my bones. For six months I have worked on Aline Platen’s campaign. I believed her to be an excellent candidate for President of Earth. When last night’s election results were announced, we rejoiced. Aline had won! Months of hard work had paid off. But this morning... I have difficulty finding the right words... I surprised Aline at the office to congratulate her. What I found was a horror show. She had human children locked in cages, and eating their entrails. Stunned, I left. Did she see me?

Oh, God... she’s here...

Like you cared.

Oh sure, the new president may be an alien, but what of it?

It's not like it could be any better or worse than the last.... what was it?

You perused a long list of presidents, your fingers scratching off the surface of the screen as you counted. 1,2,3...

At about five you decided that wasn't very important.

Look, the big deal here is that, they don't know.

How could they know?  They've been living a lie for years!

You sighed, leaning back in your orange lounge chair,

"Maybe someday she'll know she isn't human, right? Yeah..."