Blob, Chapter 35 - Flying High
During the short trip back to DC, Aurora felt like she was flying higher than the helicopter.
Blob had reluctantly agreed that a development treaty of some kind could solve the doomsday prediction he brought to Earth—if it was specific enough, if nearly two hundred countries signed it, and if it was genuinely enforced, not just empty political theater.
That amounted to a lot of “ifs,” but Aurora could sense the relieved atmosphere of the room—everybody considered it a win.
As soon as the helicopter took off, her phone buzzed with a secure message from the President himself:
Kudos to you, Aurora! Well done!
She maintained a neutral expression as she read it and slid the phone back into her bag.
To her amazement, Meghan Sharpe, sitting directly across from her, spoke up. “That was good work back there, Aurora. I realize I’ve made a few… rude remarks lately. I apologize—I underestimated you.”
Aurora smiled gently. “Thanks, Meghan. No apology needed—it’s been an incredibly stressful time for us all.”
“Yes,” Meghan said quietly, gazing thoughtfully out the window at the Manhattan skyline, “for the entire world.”
When the Response Team reassembled in the Situation Room, the President congratulated Aurora again, prompting nods and murmurs of approval around the table.
The screens showed scenes from around the globe: cheering protesters, demonstrators peacefully dispersing, even spontaneous embraces on crowded streets. Blob himself had taken to social media, outlining in detail what had transpired at his UN appearance. His posts went viral almost instantly, the meeting hailed as a breakthrough.
“My instincts tell me things are heading back to normal,” the President said, “at least for now. Schools and universities are expected to resume classes tomorrow, and I know some of you have catching up to do.”
Chuckles and groans filled the room. Aurora shared the sentiment, dreading her packed schedule at Stanford.
“As far as I’m concerned,” he continued, “we can disband this team for the moment. However, we urgently need a good, catchy name for this treaty. The Press Secretary’s statement is ready, missing only the name—let’s get it out quickly and take the global lead.”
The Secretary of State raised an eyebrow. “But, Mister President, the UN is supposed to draw up the treaty.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the President said, waving his hand dismissively. “But we want as much influence as possible, right from the start.”
They spent a few minutes debating options until the Secretary of State suggested something that resonated:
S.A.F.E. (Strategic AI Framework for Earth)
Short, clear, memorable. Perfect. And, as the linguistics professor pointed out, the word “safe” was known worldwide by most non-native English speakers.
“Then it’s a wrap,” the President said warmly, smiling. “I can’t tell you how much I, and the country, appreciate your service.”
His eyes lingered fondly on Aurora before he exited.
Aurora might have returned to California floating on victory had she not spotted someone unmistakably familiar at the far end of the long White House corridor.
Brandon.
Her ex-husband was being ushered toward the Oval Office by the Chief of Staff, no less. Undoubtedly, he was about to meet with the President. Her stomach tightened sharply.
Was he there because they had recruited him to the new team to write the first draft of SAFE? That would make sense, since he had become one of the world’s experts on applied AI.
She remembered the angry phone call she'd received from him—his furious demand to know exactly what she and the team were doing to “stop Blob,” and the final words he'd snapped at her:
Fine. I’ll go straight to the President myself.
An uneasy pang twisted in her chest as she watched him disappear through the far door.