trying to take their country back.”
“What’s stopping them?”
“Good question.” Alexei blows out a stream of smoke, tips his cigarette ash into the ashtray, and leans forward. “You see that curved line that runs all the way up along the left side of the map? That’s a wall about fourteen, maybe fifteen meters high—about fifty feet or so. On one side is over two million angry protesters ready to start a revolution, and on the other side is the presidential palace and parliament buildings. All someone would have to do is take out about a thirty foot section of that wall right about there, and by morning, New Guangdong would be Freetown again.” Alexei looks at the boy. “You want to know what’s stopping anentire nation of over ten million people from being free? Nothing but a few feet of concrete and rebar.”
“What about the military? Wouldn’t they stop them?”
“There’s no way the Sierra Leone Armed Forces could stop a wave of two million people. I doubt they’d even try. My guess is that if the people got through that wall, the army would either step aside, or more likely, join them. There’s no doubt in my mind that within twenty-four hours, every last government official and everyone in their families would be shot, beaten to death, hacked to pieces, or hung from flagpoles.”
The boy appears startled as he looks from the map back to Alexei. “And you think that’s a
good
thing?”
“Good for the Sierra Leoneans. Good for justice and democracy, and for humanity in general. Admittedly, not so good for the people hanging from the flagpoles.”
The boy studies Alexei for a moment. “You want to blow up that wall, don’t you?”
Alexei’s cigarette stops on its way to his lips and he looks at the boy. “Andre, these things always happen in two distinct steps: gradually, and then all at once. They’re like earthquakes. It takes years to build up all that energy and then just a few seconds to release it, shaking everything around it to the ground. All the energy is already there. All I want to do is release it.”
“How?”
“By funding a revolution. One and a half million NGD can buy a lot in that part of the world. Favors, influence, weapons, explosives. It can make a lot of people look the other way when you need them to. And New Guangdong would just be the beginning. If the rest of Africa saw the people of Sierra Leone rise up, I think we’d see revolutions across the entire continent. I think it could be the beginning of the African Spring.”
“Why can’t they do it peacefully?” the boy says. “Why can’t the people just vote for a new president? That’s what a republic is, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately terms like
republic
and
democracy
are a little more subjective than you might think. Have you ever heard of the Thirty-first Amendment?”
“I heard of it.”
“Do you know what it does?”
“Not really.”
“The Thirty-first Amendment to the United States Constitution legalizes the transfer of suffrage from a citizen to his or her economic sponsor, patron, or benefactor. In other words, it gives the company you work for the right to cast a vote on your behalf. Guess where the inspiration for it came from?”
“Sierra Leone?”
“Exactly. Corporations control over ninety percent of votes in Sierra Leone, and most of the corporations are controlled by foreign interests. Technically and legally, Sierra Leone and the United States are both democracies, but in reality, they’re more like plutocracies.”
“What’s that?”
“It means they’re ruled by the wealthy rather than by the majority. But since Americans probably wouldn’t put up with an
actual
plutocracy, the wealthy put a lot of effort into maintaining a democratic facade.”
The boy gestures toward the projection. “How long have those people been out there?”
“Months. And they’re going to stay out there until they either get what they want, or until they get put down. That’s why
“What’s stopping them?”
“Good question.” Alexei blows out a stream of smoke, tips his cigarette ash into the ashtray, and leans forward. “You see that curved line that runs all the way up along the left side of the map? That’s a wall about fourteen, maybe fifteen meters high—about fifty feet or so. On one side is over two million angry protesters ready to start a revolution, and on the other side is the presidential palace and parliament buildings. All someone would have to do is take out about a thirty foot section of that wall right about there, and by morning, New Guangdong would be Freetown again.” Alexei looks at the boy. “You want to know what’s stopping anentire nation of over ten million people from being free? Nothing but a few feet of concrete and rebar.”
“What about the military? Wouldn’t they stop them?”
“There’s no way the Sierra Leone Armed Forces could stop a wave of two million people. I doubt they’d even try. My guess is that if the people got through that wall, the army would either step aside, or more likely, join them. There’s no doubt in my mind that within twenty-four hours, every last government official and everyone in their families would be shot, beaten to death, hacked to pieces, or hung from flagpoles.”
The boy appears startled as he looks from the map back to Alexei. “And you think that’s a
good
thing?”
“Good for the Sierra Leoneans. Good for justice and democracy, and for humanity in general. Admittedly, not so good for the people hanging from the flagpoles.”
The boy studies Alexei for a moment. “You want to blow up that wall, don’t you?”
Alexei’s cigarette stops on its way to his lips and he looks at the boy. “Andre, these things always happen in two distinct steps: gradually, and then all at once. They’re like earthquakes. It takes years to build up all that energy and then just a few seconds to release it, shaking everything around it to the ground. All the energy is already there. All I want to do is release it.”
“How?”
“By funding a revolution. One and a half million NGD can buy a lot in that part of the world. Favors, influence, weapons, explosives. It can make a lot of people look the other way when you need them to. And New Guangdong would just be the beginning. If the rest of Africa saw the people of Sierra Leone rise up, I think we’d see revolutions across the entire continent. I think it could be the beginning of the African Spring.”
“Why can’t they do it peacefully?” the boy says. “Why can’t the people just vote for a new president? That’s what a republic is, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately terms like
republic
and
democracy
are a little more subjective than you might think. Have you ever heard of the Thirty-first Amendment?”
“I heard of it.”
“Do you know what it does?”
“Not really.”
“The Thirty-first Amendment to the United States Constitution legalizes the transfer of suffrage from a citizen to his or her economic sponsor, patron, or benefactor. In other words, it gives the company you work for the right to cast a vote on your behalf. Guess where the inspiration for it came from?”
“Sierra Leone?”
“Exactly. Corporations control over ninety percent of votes in Sierra Leone, and most of the corporations are controlled by foreign interests. Technically and legally, Sierra Leone and the United States are both democracies, but in reality, they’re more like plutocracies.”
“What’s that?”
“It means they’re ruled by the wealthy rather than by the majority. But since Americans probably wouldn’t put up with an
actual
plutocracy, the wealthy put a lot of effort into maintaining a democratic facade.”
The boy gestures toward the projection. “How long have those people been out there?”
“Months. And they’re going to stay out there until they either get what they want, or until they get put down. That’s why
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