Xendo plucked a Honeycrisp apple from the fruit trees that grew along the main road into Duluth. He enjoyed its crisp sweetness as he passed their community garden and tossed the core into the town’s compost generator. He saw his neighbors chatting while gathering their weekly produce to cook at home with their families. Xendo smiled as their kids competed in elaborate virtual reality games in the park. 

Xendo rounded the bend and was granted a gorgeous view of Lake Superior’s rocky beach and its deep blue waves. Up above the green pine-forested hills were huge solar panels and colorful wind turbines, lazily spinning in the summer breeze. For centuries, both systems gave power to his whole village in Minnesota and left extra energy to spare. His city, like many others, was a harmonized mix of nature and technology. 

Xendo arrived at the busy town square, entered his mother’s favorite sandwich shop, and ordered some food. He waited on the store’s patio and saw an elderly couple enjoying lunch with a younger friend. Xendo couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he discovered they were discussing politics. 

“I’ll be sad to see Namid Kanosha go,” the elderly woman lamented as she enjoyed some tomato gazpacho. “All the global presidents have been effective these past few decades, but she’s been the best.” 

Her husband nodded while chewing a bite of his smoked lox sandwich. 

“All community budgets were increased for infrastructure around the globe, employment is up, our monthly universal income increased, and her push to have education tech updated each year was great for the grandkids.” 

“Kanosha perfected the art of actually listening to requests made by the masses and bringing the world’s origins together to solve our problems,” agreed the younger friend, sticking her fork into her quinoa salad. “If the next president keeps doing that, they really can’t go wrong.” 

“Do you think a trioka will ever run?” the cheery grandfather asked. His wife knocked his knee under the table. 

“Marc! You can’t ask her that,” his wife chastised, “just ‘cause she’s trioka.” 

“It’s fine!” The friend laughed with them. “People in this little dioka town ask me questions like that all the time!” 

“I think a trioka should run!” the grandma expressed. “We’ve had multiple presidents of every sort except for trioka. They deserve a shot! They could run under the smaller Freedom Party.” 

The younger friend paused for a moment. Xendo leaned in.

“Run? Yes. Win? No,” the woman answered. “Listen, even that trioka widow here in town was outcast by her own origin just because her husband failed some government mission. If the world can’t be kind to a trioka who makes mistakes, the world would never accept a trioka as its leader.” 

The elderly couple sank back in their seats. Xendo grabbed a menu to hide behind. They were gossiping about his trioka family. A server called his order. Xendo dashed to quickly grab the food before he was seen. He strained to hear the last of their conversation while leaving the deli. 

“OMNI can’t be around anymore,” the older woman mused, “their ideologies died centuries ago.” 

“Nah, that’s what they want you to think,” the friend replied. “Look at history; hatred never goes away.”