Lottocracy

I’m going to be the Prime. Aleksander thought stirring his glass of golden whiskey. he flipped through the pages of the book, A Brief History of Earth.

“In the year 2050, a crisis broke. Democracy, monarchy, communism went at war with each other. It was something that humanity had never witnessed. A war over land, religion, wife, even over money was not unheard of, but this… This was a battle of ideology.

“A hundred years of war had left the earth a desolate place covering it with a veil of ash and black snow. Billions were dead and many more suffered from the ideological war.” Well it was a good thing. Aleksander thought. It wouldn’t have united the Earth under one nation, A war that ended the great divide. he flipped the page again. He took another sip from his glass.

Aleksander knew what the outcome was going to be and yet he was oddly anxious. No one has ever rigged the system before, not in a thousand years. he smiled and read from the book.

“After the catastrophe, He appeared– the messenger– as if out of thin air and gifted the humans a celestial ball, ‘Use this, to elect your leader.’ The celestial ball was capable of randomly choosing between a set of options. Democracy was broken, it gave power to the ill-informed masses. Monarchy on the other hand took the power and placed it on one head. Communism promised to be different but it was plagued by corruption and politicians who were only interested in lining their own pockets. But Lottocracy, as people began to call the new system, was fair for it was chaotic.” It outlasted Democracy by a century. Aleksander smiled.

He looked at his television and saw the celestial ball had been brought on stage and a High Priest began the ritual. Aleksander slapped the book shut and turned to face the television, It was difficult to figure out. But once you did, it became glaringly obvious. he took the sip, The celestial ball is not choosing at random at all. It chose something that was everyone– deep inside their hearts, away from the clutches of the conscious– thought was the best option.

“Oh, mighty Orb,” the High Priest worshipped on his knees, “Who do you choose to be the Prime?”

Once I figured that out, all I had to do was subtly hint that was the best option, put an idea inside the TV show host that I was the best option, do seemingly random acts of good deeds, or simply smile at a lady sitting across you in the library. Aleksander poured himself another drink as he for the Orb to choose the new prime, What if I’m…

“The Orb has spoken,” the High Priest held the Orb in front of the camera revealing the name of the new Prime. Aleksander smiled and emptied the glass before walking out to the room to a swarm of well-wishers.