Bruce Sterling - Islands in the Net

"The regime of Gray Culture stops at nothing to defend, and extend, its status quo. Gray Culture cannot fairly match the unleashed vigor of Singapore's free competition. So they pretend to despise our genius, our daring. We live in a world of Luddites, who give billions to preserve ugly jungle wilderness-but nothing for the highest aspirations of humanity.

"Lulled by the empty promise of security, the world out- side our borders is falling asleep.

"It is an ugly prospect. Yet there is hope. For Singapore today is alive and awake as no society has ever been before.

"My fellow citizens-Singapore will no longer accept an imposed and minor role in the world's periphery. Our Lion

City is no one's backyard, no one's puppet state! This is an

Information Era, and our lack of territory-mere topsoil-no longer restrains us. In a world slipping into medieval slum- ber, our Singapore is the potential center of a renaissance!"

(The woman in stretch pants clutched her husband's hand.)

"I have risen before you today to tell you that a battle is coming-a struggle for the soul of civilization. Our Singapore will lead that battle! And we will win it!"

(Frenzied applause. Throughout the stadium, men and women-Party cadres perhaps?-leapt to their feet. Catching the cue, the entire crowd rose in surges. Laura and Suvendra stood, not wanting to be conspicuous. Shouts died down, and the stadium rang with cadenced applause.)

("He's nasty," Laura muttered. Suvendra nodded, pretending to clap.)

"Dear ladies and gentlemen," the prime minister murmured. (The crowd settled back like angry surf.)

"We have never been a people of complacency. We

Singaporeans. have never abandoned our wise tradition of universal military service. Today we profit by that long sacri- fice of time and effort. Our small but highly advanced armed forces now rank with the finest in the modern world. Our adversaries have threatened and blustered for years, but they dare not trifle with Fortress Singapore. They know very well that our Rapid Deployment Forces can carry swift, surgical retribution to any corner of the globe!

"So the battle we face will be subtle, without clear bound- aries. It will challenge our will, our independence, our traditions-our very survival as a people.

"The first skirmish is already upon us. I refer to the recent terrorist atrocity against the Caribbean island of Grenada.

"The Grenadian government-I use the term loosely ..."

(A tension-relieving burst of laughter.)

"Grenada has publicly alleged that certain elements in

Singapore bear responsibility for this attack. I have called on

Parliament to conduct a thorough and public investigation of the affair. At present, dear ladies and gentlemen, I cannot comment on this matter fully. I will not prejudice the investi- gation, nor will I endanger our vital intelligence sources.

However-I can tell you that Grenada's enemies may have used Singapore's commercial conduits as a blind.

"If this is true, I pledge to you today that the- parties responsible will pay a heavy price."

(Look of grim sincerity. Laura checked the faces of the crowd. They sat on the edges of their seats, looking serious and glowing and ennobled.),

"Dear ladies and gentlemen, we of this island bear no ill will toward, the suffering people of Grenada.. Through diplo- matic channels, we have already reached out to them, offering them medical and technical assistance in their time of crisis.

"These acts of goodwill have been rejected. Stunned by the cruel attack, their government is in shambles, and their rhetoric is scarcely rational. Until the crisis settles, we must stand firm against acts of provocation. We must have pa- tience. Let us remember that the Grenadians have never been a disciplined people. We must hope that when their panic fades they will come to their senses."

(Kim released his white-knuckled grip on the podium and brushed the smooth lock of hair. from his eyes. He paused a moment, working his fingers as if they itched.)

"In the meantime, however, they continue to utter belliger- ent threats. Grenadia has failed to recognize our basic com- monality of interest."

(Laura blinked. "Grenadia?" )

"An attack on Grenadia's sovereignty is a potential threat to sour own. We must recognize the possibility-the probability

-of a covert divide-and-conquer strategy at work. Happening

... today ... "

(Kim glanced away from the camera. There were sudden beads of sweat on his powdered forehead-on the giant screen, they looked as big as soccer balls. Long seconds passed.

Little knots of anxious murmuring rose among the crowd.)

"Today-tomorrow-I will be declaring a state of emergency

-granting the executive... power. Necessary to protect our citizenry from possible subversion... from attack. By either the Gray globalists, or the blacks. The Gremadies. The ... Ne- gro niggers!"

(Kim lurched from the podium, half reeling. He glanced to his left again, dizzily, searching for support. Someone off-camera murmured drowned words, anxiously. Kim muttered aloud.)

"What did I say?"

He tugged at his pocket kerchief, and his shades clattered to the floor. He mopped his forehead, his neck. Then a sudden convulsion seized him. He stumbled forward, slap- ping his podium. His face congested and he screamed into the microphones.

"Dogs fucked Vienna! Ladies and gentlemen, I... I'm afraid I'm sorry that the pariah dump-dogs fucked the Ayatollah!

Lick my ass! You should-shit on the Space Captain fucking laser launch-"

Horrified screams. A roar and rustle as the crowd of thou- sands rose in bewilderment.

Kim slumped and fell behind the podium.

Suddenly he vaulted up again, like a puppet. He opened his mouth.

Suddenly, hellishly, he vomited blood and fire. A torrent of livid flame gushed from his mouth and eyes. In seconds his giant video face was blackening with impossible heat. A

deafening agonized scream shook the stadium. A sound like damned souls and sheet metal torn apart.

His hair flared like a candle, his skin crisped. He clawed at his burning eyes. The air became a hurricane of obscene metallic noise.

Suddenly, people from the lower stands were scrambling onto the soccer field. Vaulting, stumbling, clambering over the rails, over each other. Sweeping the white helmets of police away, like buoys in a tidal wave.

The noise went on and on.

There was a hard tug at Laura's knee. It was Suvendra. She was crouching low beneath the bleacher, hunkered on knees and elbows. She shouted something impossible to hear. Then gestured-get down!

Laura hesitated, looked up, and suddenly the crowd was all over her.

It poured down the slope like a juggernaut. Elbows, knees, shoulders, murderous stampeding feet. A sudden slamming body block, and Laura tumbled backward, downhill, over the bleacher. She slammed down into something that buckled spongily-a human body.

Concrete rose and smacked her' face. She was down and trampled-a crushing blow across her back that drove the air from her lungs. Winded, blinded. Dying!

Raw seconds of black panic. Then-she found herself scram- bling. Squirming, like Suvendra, under a denting, rocking bleacher. People pouring over her now. An endless, mad threshing engine of pistoning legs. A sandaled foot mashed her fingers and she snatched her hand back.

A little boy spun past her headlong. His shoulder smashed against the hard edge of a bleacher, and he was down.

Shadows and rising heat and the stink of fear and noise, bodies falling, scrambling-

Laura clenched her teeth and lunged out into a beating. She grabbed the boy's waist and hauled him back with her. She wrapped her arms around him, huddled him under her.

He buried his face against her shoulder, clutching her so hard it hurt. Concrete trembled under her, the stadium quaking to the avalanche of human meat.