FRATE PETI
1. Scola · 2. Esplode · 3. Aresta · 4. Prison · 5. Paranoia · 6. Rede X · 7. Spleno-Porco · 8. Paradox · 9. Furgon · 10. Claves · 11. Slogan
12. Conserta · 13. Jornales · 14. Bitnic · 15. Enrolada · 16. Reportor · 17. Tuneli · 18. Juas · 19. Vampires · 20. Tortura · 21. Judi · Epilogo

11. Slogan

Mostra ance la testo orijinal

Jolu ia sta.

Jolu stood up.

“Lo comensa asi, xices. Esta es como nos sabe a cual lado vos parteni. Cisa vos no va desira vade sur la stradas e es arestada per vosa credes, ma si vos ave credes, esta va permete ce nos sabe lo. Esta va crea la rede de fida cual dise a nos ci es a en e ci es a estra. Si nos va recatura nosa pais, nos nesesa fa esta. Nos nesesa fa alga tal cosa.”

“This is where it starts, guys. This is how we know which side you’re on. You might not be willing to take to the streets and get busted for your beliefs, but if you have beliefs, this will let us know it. This will create the web of trust that tells us who’s in and who’s out. If we’re ever going to get our country back, we need to do this. We need to do something like this.”

Algun en la fola – el ia es Anj – ia leva un mano, teninte un botela de bir.

Someone in the audience – it was Ange – had a hand up, holding a beer bottle.

“Alora, nomi me Bobo, ma me tota no comprende esta. Perce tu vole ce nos fa esta?”

“So call me stupid but I don’t understand this at all. Why do you want us to do this?”

Jolu ia regarda me, e me ia regarda el. Tota ia pare tan evidente cuando nos ia organiza lo. “Rede X no es sola un modo de fa juas sin custa. Lo es la rede final de comunica abrida en la SUA. Lo es la modo final de comunica sin es spiada par Securia Interna. Afin lo funsiona, nos nesesa sabe ce la person a ci nos parla no es un spior. Esta sinifia ce nos nesesa sabe ce la persones a ci nos envia mesajes es la persones intendeda.

Jolu looked at me, and I looked back at him. It had all seemed so obvious when we were organizing it. “The Xnet isn’t just a way to play free games. It’s the last open communications network in America. It’s the last way to communicate without being snooped on by the DHS. For it to work we need to know that the person we’re talking to isn’t a snoop. That means that we need to know that the people we’re sending messages to are the people we think they are.

“Asi vos pote aida. Tota vos es asi car nos fida vos – fida vos a grado vera, me vole dise. Fida vos per nosa vives.”

“That’s where you come in. You’re all here because we trust you. I mean, really trust you. Trust you with our lives.”

Alga de la persones ia jemi. Lo ia pare melodramosa e stupida.

Some of the people groaned. It sounded melodramatic and stupid.

Me ia sta denova.

I got back to my feet.

“Cuando la bombas ia esplode,” – me ia dise, e alora alga cosa ia inonda en mea peto, alga cosa dolosa – “cuando la bombas ia esplode, cuatro de nos ia es caturada a Strada Mercato. Per alga razona, Securia Interna ia deside ce nos es suspetable par esta. Los ia pone sacos supra nosa testas, ia pone nos sur un barcon e ia interoga nos tra dias. Los ia umili nos. Los ia fa juas con nosa mentes. E a pos los ia libri nos.

“When the bombs went off,” I said, then something welled up in my chest, something painful. “When the bombs went off, there were four of us caught up by Market Street. For whatever reason, the DHS decided that made us suspicious. They put bags over our heads, put us on a ship and interrogated us for days. They humiliated us. Played games with our minds. Then they let us go.

“Tota, estra un person. Mea ami la plu bon. El ia es con nos cuando los ia aresta nos. El ia es colpada e el ia nesesa aida medical. El ia sorti nunca denova. Los dise ce los ia vide nunca el. Los dise ce si nos va raconta esta a cualcun, los va aresta nos e fa ce nos desapare.

“All except one person. My best friend. He was with us when they picked us up. He’d been hurt and he needed medical care. He never came out again. They say they never saw him. They say that if we ever tell anyone about this, they’ll arrest us and make us disappear.

“Per sempre.”

“Forever.”

Me ia es tremante. La vergonia. La vergonia enfernin. Jolu ia es luminante me.

I was shaking. The shame. The goddamned shame. Jolu had the light on me.

“Cristo.” – me ia dise. “Vos es la persones prima a ci me ia dise lo. Si esta raconta sirculi, on pote aposta ce los va sabe ci ia esposa lo. On pote aposta ce los va veni per bateta a mea porte.” Me ia fa alga plu enspiras profonda. “Esta es perce me ia ofre me per Rede X. Esta es perce mea vive, de aora, pertine a batalia la Departe de Securia Interna. Par cada respira. A cada dia. Asta cuando nos va es libre denova. Cualcun de vos ta pote prisoni me aora, si vos ta desira lo.”

“Oh Christ,” I said. “You people are the first ones I’ve told. If this story gets around, you can bet they’ll know who leaked it. You can bet they’ll come knocking on my door.” I took some more deep breaths. “That’s why I volunteered on the Xnet. That’s why my life, from now on, is about fighting the DHS. With every breath. Every day. Until we’re free again. Any one of you could put me in jail now, if you wanted to.”

Anj ia leva denova sua mano. “Nos no va denunsia tu.” – el ia dise. “Tota no. Me conose plu o min cadun asi e me pote promete esta a tu. Me no sabe como me ta sabe ci me ta fida, ma me sabe ci me no ta fida: persones vea. Nosa jenitores. Adultes. Cuando los pensa a un person spiada, los pensa a un otra person, un vil. Cuando los pensa a un person caturada e enviada a un prison secreta, acel es un otra person – algun brun, algun joven, algun stranjer.

Ange put her hand up again. “We’re not going to rat on you,” she said. “No way. I know pretty much everyone here and I can promise you that. I don’t know how to know who to trust, but I know who not to trust: old people. Our parents. Grownups. When they think of someone being spied on, they think of someone else, a bad guy. When they think of someone being caught and sent to a secret prison, it’s someone else – someone brown, someone young, someone foreign.

“Los oblida como on senti cuando on ave nosa eda. Cuando on es la suspetada tra tota la tempo! A cuanto veses nos ia entra a un bus e ia sensa de cada person en lo un regarda como si nos gargara merdas e despeli canetas?

“They forget what it’s like to be our age. To be the object of suspicion all the time! How many times have you gotten on the bus and had every person on it give you a look like you’d been gargling turds and skinning puppies?

“Plu mal, on adulti sempre plu joven en acel mundo. En tempos pasada, on ia dise comun: ‘Fida nunca un person plu vea ca 30.’ Me dise: ‘Fida no bastardo plu vea ca 25!’”

“What’s worse, they’re turning into adults younger and younger out there. Back in the day, they used to say ‘Never trust anyone over 30.’ I say, ‘Don’t trust any bastard over 25!’”

Esta ia provoca un rie, e el ia rie ance. El ia es beleta, en un modo strana cavalin, con fas longa e mandibula longa. “Me no broma vera, sabe? Me dise: considera lo. Ci ia eleje esta bufones? Ci ia permete ce los invade nosa site? Ci ia vota per pone la cameras en nosa salas de clase e segue nos de asi a ala par microtelias spiante asustante en nosa cartas de transporta e autos? No la persones con 16 anios. Nos es cisa joven e nonastuta, ma nos no es bruta.”

That got a laugh, and she laughed too. She was pretty, in a weird, horsey way, with a long face and a long jaw. “I’m not really kidding, you know? I mean, think about it. Who elected these ass-clowns? Who let them invade our city? Who voted to put the cameras in our classrooms and follow us around with creepy spyware chips in our transit passes and cars? It wasn’t a 16-year-old. We may be dumb, we may be young, but we’re not scum.”

“Me desira acel sur un camisa T.” – me ia dise.

“I want that on a t-shirt,” I said.

“Lo ta es un bon camisa.” – el ia dise. Nos ia surie a lunlotra.

“It would be a good one,” she said. We smiled at each other.

“A do me va vade per reseta mea claves?” – el ia dise, e ia estrae sua telefon.

“Where do I go to get my keys?” she said, and pulled out her phone.

“Nos va fa lo ala, en la loca isolida a la cavas. Me va gida vos a en e va prepara vos, e pos fa alora la cosa, vos va prende la macina a tota vosa amis per fa fotos de vosa clave publica afin los pote suscrive lo pos revade a casa.”

“We’ll do it over there, in the secluded spot by the caves. I’ll take you in there and set you up, then you do your thing and take the machine around to your friends to get photos of your public key so they can sign it when they get home.”

Me ia forti mea vose. “O! Un plu cosa! Txa, me no pote crede ce me ia oblida esta. Dejeta acel fotos pos tape la claves! La situa la min desirable ta es un flue de Flickr plen de imajes de tota nos en conspira juntada.”

I raised my voice. “Oh! One more thing! Jesus, I can’t believe I forgot this. Delete those photos once you’ve typed in the keys! The last thing we want is a Flickr stream full of pictures of all of us conspiring together.”

On ia fa alga ries nervosa ma bondisposada, e alora Jolu ia estingui la lampa e en la oscur subita me ia vide no cosa. Gradal, mea oios ia ajusta e me ia comensa en via a la cava. Algun ia pasea pos me. Anj. Me ia turna e ia surie a el, e el ia surie a me, con dentes luminosa en la oscur.

There was some good-natured, nervous chuckling, then Jolu turned out the light and in the sudden darkness I could see nothing. Gradually, my eyes adjusted and I set off for the cave. Someone was walking behind me. Ange. I turned and smiled at her, and she smiled back, luminous teeth in the dark.

“Grasias per acel.” – me ia dise. “Tu ia esele.”

“Thanks for that,” I said. “You were great.”

“Tu ia es seria en parla sur la saco sur tua testa e tota?”

“You mean what you said about the bag on your head and everything?”

“Me ia es seria.” – me ia dise. “Lo ia aveni. Me ia informa no person, ma lo ia aveni.” Me ia considera lo per un momento. “Tu sabe, con la pasa de tota la tempo a pos, sin ce me ia parla sur lo, lo ia comensa pare como un malsonia. Ma lo ia es real.” Me ia para e ia asende trepante a la cava. “Me es felis ce me ia raconta final. Ascondente lo per plu tempo, me ia ta duta cisa mea sania mental.”

“I meant it,” I said. “It happened. I never told anyone, but it happened.” I thought about it for a moment. “You know, with all the time that went by since, without saying anything, it started to feel like a bad dream. It was real though.” I stopped and climbed up into the cave. “I’m glad I finally told people. Any longer and I might have started to doubt my own sanity.”

Me ia pone la computador portable sur un petra seca e ia inisia lo de la DVD su sua regarda. “Me va reinisia lo per cada person. Esta es un disco normal de Linux Paranoica, ma me suposa ce on debe fida me sur esta.”

I set up the laptop on a dry bit of rock and booted it from the DVD with her watching. “I’m going to reboot it for every person. This is a standard ParanoidLinux disc, though I guess you’d have to take my word for it.”

“Txa,” – el ia dise – “esta pertine intera a fida, si?”

“Hell,” she said. “This is all about trust, right?”

“Si.” – me ia dise. “Fida.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Trust.”

Me ia retira me a un distantia cuando el ia usa la jenerador de claves, escutante sua tapes e clicas per crea enflues acaso, escutante la ruji de la surfa, escutante la ruidos de selebra veninte de do lo bir ia es.

I retreated some distance as she ran the key-generator, listening to her typing and mousing to create randomness, listening to the crash of the surf, listening to the party noises from over where the beer was.

El ia pasea de la cava, portante la portable. Sur lo, en leteras enorme blanca luminosa, ia es sua clave publica e sua contorno e adirije de eposta. El ia teni la scermo a lado de sua fas e ia espeta en cuando me ia estrae mea telefon.

She stepped out of the cave, carrying the laptop. On it, in huge white luminous letters, were her public key and her fingerprint and email address. She held the screen up beside her face and waited while I got my phone out.

“Feliiiiis!” – el ia dise. Me ia fa sua foto e ia repone la camera en mea pox. El ia vaga a la selebrores e ia permete ce cada de los fa un foto de el e la scermo. Esta ia es festin. Divertinte. El ia ave vera multe carisma – on no ia vole rie a el, on ia vole mera rie con el. E txa, lo ia es comica! Nos ia declara un gera secreta contra la polisia secreta. Nos ia es tan enfernin egosa!

“Cheese,” she said. I snapped her pic and dropped the camera back in my pocket. She wandered off to the revelers and let them each get pics of her and the screen. It was festive. Fun. She really had a lot of charisma – you didn’t want to laugh at her, you just wanted to laugh with her. And hell, it was funny! We were declaring a secret war on the secret police. Who the hell did we think we were?

Tal lo ia continua, tra la ora seguente o simil, con ce cadun ia fa fotos e ia crea claves. Me ia susede encontra cadun ala. Me ia conose ja multe de los – alga ia es invitada par me – e la otras ia es amis de mea amis, o de la amis de estas. Tota nos ta debe es cameradas. Nos ia deveni tal, ante la fini de la note. Tota esta persones ia es bon.

So it went, through the next hour or so, everyone taking pictures and making keys. I got to meet everyone there. I knew a lot of them – some were my invitees – and the others were friends of my pals or my pals’ pals. We should all be buddies. We were, by the time the night was out. They were all good people.

Cuando cadun ia fini, Jolu ia vade per crea un clave e alora ia turna a via, con un surie embarasada a me. Ma me ia sesa ja mea coleria contra el. El fa lo cual el debe fa. Me ia sabe ce, an pos cualce cosa cual el dise, el va sta sempre a mea lado. E nos ia pasa juntada tra la prison de Securia Interna. Ance Van. An con tota, esta va lia nos en junta per sempre.

Once everyone was done, Jolu went to make a key, and then turned away, giving me a sheepish grin. I was past my anger with him, though. He was doing what he had to do. I knew that no matter what he said, he’d always be there for me. And we’d been through the DHS jail together. Van too. No matter what, that would bind us together forever.

Me ia crea mea clave e ia fa la marxa sirca la fola, lasante ce cadun fa un foto. A pos, me ia asende a la loca alta de cual me ia parla plu temprana e ia clama per la atende de cadun.

I did my key and did the perp-walk around the gang, letting everyone snap a pic. Then I climbed up on the high spot I’d spoken from earlier and called for everyone’s attention.

“Alora, multe de vos ia nota ce on ave un defeto fundal en esta prosede: Como lo va vade si esta computador no es fidable? Como si lo rejistra secreta nosa comandas? Como si lo spia nos? Como si Jose Luis e me no es fidable?”

“So a lot of you have noted that there’s a vital flaw in this procedure: what if this laptop can’t be trusted? What if it’s secretly recording our instructions? What if it’s spying on us? What if Jose-Luis and I can’t be trusted?”

Plu ries bondisposada. Pico plu amin ca a ante, plu plen de bir.

More good-natured chuckles. A little warmer than before, more beery.

“Me no broma.” – me ia dise. “Si nos ta parteni a la mal lado, esta ta pote lasa tota de nos – tota de vos – en un monton de problemes. Prison, cisa.”

“I mean it,” I said. “If we were on the wrong side, this could get all of us – all of you – into a heap of trouble. Jail, maybe.”

La ries ia deveni plu nervosa.

The chuckles turned more nervous.

“Donce, per acel razona, me va fa esta.” – me ia dise, e ia prende un martel cual me ia trae de la caxa de utiles de mea papa. Me ia pone la computador sur la roca a lado de me e ia brandi la martel, e Jolu ia segue la move con sua cadena luminada. Pum! – me ia sonia sempre mata un computador portable par un martel, e aora me ia es realinte lo. La senti ia es pornografial bon. E mal.

“So that’s why I’m going to do this,” I said, and picked up a hammer I’d brought from my Dad’s toolkit. I set the laptop down beside me on the rock and swung the hammer, Jolu following the swing with his keychain light. Crash – I’d always dreamt of killing a laptop with a hammer, and here I was doing it. It felt pornographically good. And bad.

Crac! La panel de scermo ia cade a via, fratida en miliones de pesos, esposante la teclador. Me ia continua colpa lo, asta cuando la teclador ia cade a via, esposante la carta madral e la disco dur. Pum! Me ia ojeti direta la disco, colpante lo con tota mea fortia. Tre colpas ia es nesesada ante cuando la caxa ia fende, esposante la portadato frajil a interna. Me ia continua colpa lo asta cuando no cosa ia resta plu grande ca un ensendador, e pos acel me ia pone tota en un saco de dejetadas. La fola ia aclama sin freni – tan ruidosa ce me ia deveni an ansiosa ce algun distante supra nos va oia tra la surfa e va clama la polisia.

Smash! The screen-panel fell off, shattered into millions of pieces, exposing the keyboard. I kept hitting it, until the keyboard fell off, exposing the motherboard and the hard-drive. Crash! I aimed square for the hard-drive, hitting it with everything I had. It took three blows before the case split, exposing the fragile media inside. I kept hitting it until there was nothing bigger than a cigarette lighter, then I put it all in a garbage bag. The crowd was cheering wildly – loud enough that I actually got worried that someone far above us might hear over the surf and call the law.

“E bon!” me ia cria. “Aora, si vos ta gusta acompania me, me va marxa esta asta la mar per empapa lo en acua salosa tra des minutos.”

“All right!” I called. “Now, if you’d like to accompany me, I’m going to march this down to the sea and soak it in salt water for ten minutes.”

Prima, nun ia aseta, ma alora Anj ia veni a ante e ia prende mea braso en sua mano calda e ia dise “Acel ia es bela” en mea orea, e nos ia marxa en junta asta la mar.

I didn’t have any takers at first, but then Ange came forward and took my arm in her warm hand and said, “That was beautiful,” in my ear and we marched down to the sea together.

Lo ia es intera oscur a lado de la mar, e perilosa, an con nosa cadenas luminada. Rocas liscosa e agu sur cual la pasea ta es ja sufisinte difisil, an si on no ta atenta ecuilibra tre cilogrames de eletronicales fratida en un saco plastica. A un ves, me ia lisca e ia pensa ce me va feri me, ma el ia catura me con un teni surprendente forte e ia preveni ce me cade. Me ia es tirada multe prosima a el, sufisinte prosima per ole sua parfum, cual ia odori como autos nova. Me ama acel odor.

It was perfectly dark by the sea, and treacherous, even with our keychain lights. Slippery, sharp rocks that were difficult enough to walk on even without trying to balance six pounds of smashed electronics in a plastic bag. I slipped once and thought I was going to cut myself up, but she caught me with a surprisingly strong grip and kept me upright. I was pulled in right close to her, close enough to smell her perfume, which smelled like new cars. I love that smell.

“Grasias.” – me ia susede dise, regardante en la oios grande cual ia es plu grandida par sua oculo masin con montures negra. Me no ia pote persepi la color de los en la oscur, ma me ia divina un tinje oscur, par gida de sua capeles oscur e pel oliva. El ia aspeta mediteranean, cisa elinica o espaniol o italian.

“Thanks,” I managed, looking into the big eyes that were further magnified by her mannish, black-rimmed glasses. I couldn’t tell what color they were in the dark, but I guessed something dark, based on her dark hair and olive complexion. She looked Mediterranean, maybe Greek or Spanish or Italian.

Me ia acrupi e ia sumerji la saco en la mar, lasante ce lo deveni plen de acua salosa. Me ia susede lisca alga e satura mea sapato, e me ia blasfema e el ia rie. Nos ia dise apena un parola pos parti per la mar. On ia ave un cualia majiosa en nosa silentia nonparolosa.

I crouched down and dipped the bag in the sea, letting it fill with salt water. I managed to slip a little and soak my shoe, and I swore and she laughed. We’d hardly said a word since we lit out for the ocean. There was something magical in our wordless silence.

A esta tempo, me ia besa tre xicas en mea vive intera, si on iniora acel momento cuando me ia revade a scola e ia reseta la bonveni de un eroe. Esta no es un cuantia jigante, ma lo es ance no un pico. Me es asetable intuosa sur la xicas, e me crede ce me ia ta pote besa el. El no ia es 5e5o5a en la modo tradisional, ma on ave un cualia spesial en un xica e un note e un plaia, e plu, el ia es intelijente e zelosa e dedicada.

At that point, I had kissed a total of three girls in my life, not counting that moment when I went back to school and got a hero’s welcome. That’s not a gigantic number, but it’s not a minuscule one, either. I have reasonable girl radar, and I think I could have kissed her. She wasn’t h4wt in the traditional sense, but there’s something about a girl and a night and a beach, plus she was smart and passionate and committed.

Ma me no ia besa el, e no ia prende sua mano. En loca, nos ia comparti un momento cual me pote descrive sola como spirital. La surfa, la note, la mar e la rocas, e nosa respira. La momento ia estende. Me ia suspira. Esta ia es un esperia estrema. Multe de tape ia resta per me a esta note, per ajunta tota acel claves a mea portaclave, suscrive los e publici la claves suscriveda. Per comensa la rede de fida.

But I didn’t kiss her, or take her hand. Instead we had a moment that I can only describe as spiritual. The surf, the night, the sea and the rocks, and our breathing. The moment stretched. I sighed. This had been quite a ride. I had a lot of typing to do tonight, putting all those keys into my keychain, signing them and publishing the signed keys. Starting the web of trust.

El ia suspira ance.

She sighed too.

“Ta ce nos vade.” – me ia dise.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“Si.” – el ia dise.

“Yeah,” she said.

E nos ia revade. Acel note ia es un bon note.

Back we went. It was a good night, that night.

A pos, Jolu ia espeta asta cuando la ami de sua frate ia veni per reprende sua caxones de jelo. Me ia pasea con tota la otras longo la strada asta la parabus munisipal la plu prosima e ia embarca. Natural, nun de nos ia usa un carta orijinal de transporta. Ja alora, usores de Rede X ia clone abitual la carta de un otra person a tre o cuatro veses per dia, adotante un identia nova per cada viaja.

Jolu waited after for his brother’s friend to come by and pick up his coolers. I walked with everyone else up the road to the nearest Muni stop and got on board. Of course, none of us was using an issued Muni pass. By that point, Xnetters habitually cloned someone else’s Muni pass three or four times a day, assuming a new identity for every ride.

Resta calma en la bus ia es difisil. Tota nos ia es pico enebriada, e la aspeta de nosa fases su la lampas briliante de la bus ia es alga ilario. Nosa voses ia deveni multe forte, e la busor ia usa sua parlador a du veses per demanda ce nos cuieti, e pos acel el ia esije ce nos silenti instante o el va clama la polisia.

It was hard to stay cool on the bus. We were all a little drunk, and looking at our faces under the bright bus lights was kind of hilarious. We got pretty loud and the driver used his intercom to tell us to keep it down twice, then told us to shut up right now or he’d call the cops.

Esta ia fa ce nos rieta denova, e nos ia desembarca coletiva ante cuando el ia clama vera la polisia. Nos ia es aora en Plaia Norde, e on ia ave multe buses, taxis, la metro a Strada Mercato, locas de note con luses de neon, e caferias per desasembla nosa grupo, donce nos ia vaga a via.

That set us to giggling again and we disembarked in a mass before he did call the cops. We were in North Beach now, and there were lots of buses, taxis, the BART at Market Street, neon-lit clubs and cafes to pull apart our grouping, so we drifted away.

Me ia reveni a casa e ia comuta mea Xbox e ia comensa entra la claves de sur la scermo de mea telefon. La labora ia es noiante e ipnosente. Me ia es pico enebriada, e lo ia lejeri me a un dormi partal.

I got home and fired up my Xbox and started typing in keys from my phone’s screen. It was dull, hypnotic work. I was a little drunk, and it lulled me into a half-sleep.

Me ia es cuasi a punto de adormi cuando un fenetra nova de mesaji instante ia apare.

I was about ready to nod off when a new IM window popped up.

aro!

herro!

Me no ia reconose la alias – xicaoculo – ma me ia ave un idea de el a ci lo parteni.

I didn’t recognize the handle – spexgril – but I had an idea who might be behind it.

alo

hi

– me ia tape, cauta.

I typed, cautiously.

esta es me, de esta sera

it’s me, from tonight

Alora el ia copia e coli un bloco de cripto. Me ia entra ja sua clave publica en mea portaclave, donce me ia comanda la mesajador a proba desifri la codigo par la clave.

Then she paste-bombed a block of crypto. I’d already entered her public key into my keychain, so I told the IM client to try decrypting the code with the key.

esta es me, de esta sera

it’s me, from tonight

Lo ia es el!

It was her!

Un encontra nonespetada

Fancy meeting you here

– me ia tape, ante sifri lo par mea clave publica e envia lo.

I typed, then encrypted it to my public key and mailed it off.

Me ia joia multe encontra tu

It was great meeting you

– me ia tape.

I typed.

Tu ance. Me no encontra multe xicos astuta ci es ance bela e sosial consensa. Mea dio, xic’, tu no dona multe oportunes a un xica.

You too. I don’t meet too many smart guys who are also cute and also socially aware. Good god, man, you don’t give a girl much of a chance.

Mea cor ia marteli en mea peto.

My heart hammered in my chest.

Alo? Clac-clac? Esta es comutada? Me no ia nase asi, caras, ma serta asi me mori. No oblida grasieta la servores: los fa multe labora. Me va broma asi per la semana intera.

Hello? Tap tap? This thing on? I wasn’t born here folks, but I’m sure dying here. Don’t forget to tip your waitresses, they work hard. I’m here all week.

Me ia rie a vose.

I laughed aloud.

Me es asi, me es asi. Me rie tro forte per tape, mera

I’m here, I’m here. Laughing too hard to type is all

Bon, a la min mea potia de comedia par mesaje instante resta forte

Well at least my IM comedy-fu is still mighty

Em.

Um.

Encontra tu ia es vera eselente ance

It was really great to meet you too

Si, usual lo es tal. A do tu va gida me?

Yeah, it usually is. Where are you taking me?

Gida tu?

Taking you?

Per nosa aventura seguente?

On our next adventure?

Vera me no ia projeta alga cosa

I didn’t really have anything planned

Oce – donce me va gida TU. Saturdi. Parce Dolores. Conserta nonlegal su la sielo. Veni, o resta reta como un dodecaedro

Oki – then I’ll take YOU. Saturday. Dolores Park. Illegal open air concert. Be there or be a dodecahedron

He como?

Wait what?

Esce tu no leje an Rede X? La anunsia es omnipresente. Tu conose la nom Sputaputas?

Don’t you even read Xnet? It’s all over the place. You ever hear of the Speedwhores?

Me ia sofoca cuasi. Acel ia es la bande de Trudy Doo – per dise: Trudy Doo, la fem ci ia paia a me e Jolu per refresci la codigo de rede-nondep.

I nearly choked. That was Trudy Doo’s band – as in Trudy Doo, the woman who had paid me and Jolu to update the indienet code.

Si, me conose los

Yeah I’ve heard of them

Los va fa un conserta jigante con sirca sincodes bandes enscriveda per jua en la program. Los va instala se sur la campos de tenis e va trae sua propre camiones de parladores e va roci la note intera

They’re putting on a huge show and they’ve got like fifty bands signed to play the bill, going to set up on the tennis courts and bring out their own amp trucks and rock out all night

Me ia senti como si me ia veni de emerji de su un petra. Como me ia fali vide esta? On ia ave un libreria anarciste sur Strada Valencia cual a veses me ia pasa en via a scola, con un poster de un revoluiste vea nomida Emma Goldman con la testo: “Si me no pote dansa, me no vole parteni a tua revolui.” Me ia spende tota mea enerjia per comprende la usa de Rede X per organiza bataliores dedicada afin los ta interfere contra la Departe de Securia Interna, ma esta ia es tan plu stilosa. Un conserta grande – me ia ave no idea como on reali un tal, ma me ia es felis ce algun sabe.

I felt like I’d been living under a rock. How had I missed that? There was an anarchist bookstore on Valencia that I sometimes passed on the way to school that had a poster of an old revolutionary named Emma Goldman with the caption “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be a part of your revolution.” I’d been spending all my energies on figuring out how to use the Xnet to organize dedicated fighters so they could jam the DHS, but this was so much cooler. A big concert – I had no idea how to do one of those, but I was glad someone did.

E aora, pensante a lo, me ia es forte orgulosa ce on usa Rede X per fa lo.

And now that I thought of it, I was damned proud that they were using the Xnet to do it.

A la dia seguente, me ia es un zombi. Anj e me ia parleta – ia flirta – asta la ora cuatro. Fortunosa per me, lo ia es un saturdi e me ia pote reclina plu longa, ma con la posenebria e la manca de dormi, me ia pote junta apena du pensas.

The next day I was a zombie. Ange and I had chatted – flirted – until 4AM. Lucky for me, it was a Saturday and I was able to sleep in, but between the hangover and the sleep-dep, I could barely put two thoughts together.

Sirca la ora de come media, me ia susede leva me e puxa me a sur la stradas. Me ia bambola en dirije a la turces per compra mea cafe – a esta dias, si me ia es solitar, me ia compra ala sempre mea cafe, como si la turces e me ia parteni a un club secreta.

By lunchtime, I managed to get up and get my ass out onto the streets. I staggered down toward the Turk’s to buy my coffee – these days, if I was alone, I always bought my coffee there, like the Turk and I were part of a secret club.

En via, me ia pasa multe grafitis fresca. Me ia gusta la grafitis de la Mision; a multe veses, los ia ave la forma de murales enorme deletosa, o stensilidas sarcasmosa par studiantes de arte. Me ia gusta ce la grafitores de la Mision continua sua ativia, direta su la nas de Securia Interna. Un Rede X de un otra spesie, me ia suposa – sin duta, los ave modos diversa per sabe lo cual aveni, do on pote oteni pinta, cual cameras funsiona. On ia covre alga de la cameras con pinta de airosol, me ia vide.

On the way, I passed a lot of fresh graffiti. I liked Mission graffiti; a lot of the times, it came in huge, luscious murals, or sarcastic art-student stencils. I liked that the Mission’s taggers kept right on going, under the nose of the DHS. Another kind of Xnet, I supposed – they must have all kinds of ways of knowing what was going on, where to get paint, what cameras worked. Some of the cameras had been spray-painted over, I noticed.

Cisa los usa Rede X!

Maybe they used Xnet!

Pintida en leteras con altia de tre metres, sur la lado de la serca de un venderia de autos, ia es la parolas gotosa: FIDA NUN PLU VEA CA 25.

Painted in ten-foot-high letters on the side of an auto-yard’s fence were the drippy words: DON’T TRUST ANYONE OVER 25.

Me ia para. Esce algun ia parti de mea “selebra” a la sera pasada e ia veni asi con un bote de pinta? Multe de acel persones ia abita en esta distrito.

I stopped. Had someone left my “party” last night and come here with a can of paint? A lot of those people lived in the neighborhood.

Me ia prende mea cafe e ia fa un vaga peti tra la urbe. Me ia pensa constante ce me debe telefoni a algun, per demanda esce on desira vade a la sinema o simil. En la pasada, tal ia es la saturdis osiosa como esta. Ma a ci me ta telefoni? Van no ia desira parla con me, me no ia senti preparada per parla con Jolu, e Darryl —

I got my coffee and had a little wander around town. I kept thinking I should be calling someone, seeing if they wanted to get a movie or something. That’s how it used to be on a lazy Saturday like this. But who was I going to call? Van wasn’t talking to me, I didn’t think I was ready to talk to Jolu, and Darryl –

Ma bon, me no ia pote telefoni a Darryl.

Well, I couldn’t call Darryl.

Me ia prende mea cafe e ia vade a casa e ia fa alga xercas en la bloges de Rede X. Esta bloges anonim ia es nontrasable a cualce autor – estra si acel autor ta es tan stupida per inclui sua nom – e on ia ave multe de los. La plu de los ia es nonpolitical, ma multe de los no ia es. Los ia discute scolas e la nonjustia ala. Los ia discute la polisia. La radioeticetas.

I got my coffee and went home and did a little searching around on the Xnet’s blogs. These anonablogs were untraceable to any author – unless that author was stupid enough to put her name on it – and there were a lot of them. Most of them were apolitical, but a lot of them weren’t. They talked about schools and the unfairness there. They talked about the cops. Tagging.

Lo ia evidenti ce la conserta en la parce es ja projetada tra semanas. Lo ia salta de blog a blog, deveninte un promove plen developada sin ce me ia persepi. E la nom de la conserta ia es Fida Nun Plu Vea Ca 25.

Turned out there’d been plans for the concert in the park for weeks. It had hopped from blog to blog, turning into a full-blown movement without my noticing. And the concert was called Don’t Trust Anyone Over 25.

Bon, esta ia esplica do Anj ia trova lo. Lo ia es un bon slogan.

Well, that explained where Ange got it. It was a good slogan.

A la matina de lundi, me ia deside ce me vole regarda denova acel libreria anarciste e oteni cisa un de acel posteres de Emma Goldman. Me ia nesesa la aidamemoria.

Monday morning, I decided I wanted to check out that anarchist bookstore again, see about getting one of those Emma Goldman posters. I needed the reminder.

Me ia devia asta Strada 16 e la Mision en via a scola, e a pos asta Strada Valencia e ladal. La boteca ia es cluida, ma me ia nota la oras sur la porte e ia serti ce on mostra ancora acel poster.

I detoured down to 16th and Mission on my way to school, then up to Valencia and across. The store was shut, but I got the hours off the door and made sure they still had that poster up.

En cuando me ia pasea longo Strada Valencia, me ia es stonada par vide cuanto benes on ave con la testo FIDA NUN PLU VEA CA 25. Un dui de la botecas ia ave comprables con FIDA NUN en la fenetras: caxas de come, camisetas per femes, caxas de lapis, xapetas de camionor. La botecas modosa ia deveni sempre plu rapida, natural. Con ce memes nova traversa la rede en curso de un dia o du, botecas ia deveni plu capas de pone benes corespondente en la fenetras. Si alga peti video comica de un om levante par porta un bolson con jetos de acua gasosa ta apare en caxas de posta a lundi, a martedi on ta pote compra camisetas mostrante fotos de la video.

As I walked down Valencia, I was amazed to see how much of the DON’T TRUST ANYONE OVER 25 stuff there was. Half the shops had DON’T TRUST merch in the windows: lunchboxes, babydoll tees, pencil-boxes, trucker hats. The hipster stores have been getting faster and faster, of course. As new memes sweep the net in the course of a day or two, stores have gotten better at putting merch in the windows to match. Some funny little youtube of a guy launching himself with jet-packs made of carbonated water would land in your inbox on Monday and by Tuesday you’d be able to buy t-shirts with stills from the video on it.

Ma me ia es stonada par vide ce alga cosa ia salta de Rede X a la botecas contracultural. Jinas modosa gastada con la slogan atendosa scriveda en inca de pen de bal de liseo. Covrebucos brodeda.

But it was amazing to see something make the leap from Xnet to the head shops. Distressed designer jeans with the slogan written in careful high school ball-point ink. Embroidered patches.

Bon novas vasti rapida.

Good news travels fast.

Lo ia es scriveda sur la mureta negra cuando me ia ariva per la leson de Studias Sosial con Sra Galvez. Tota nos ia senta a nosa tables, suriente a lo. E lo ia pare surie a nos. On ia ave alga cualia profonda felisinte en la idea ce tota nos pote fida lunlotra, ce la enemi es identifiable. Me ia sabe ce lo no es intera vera, ma lo no ia es intera falsa ance.

It was written on the black-board when I got to Ms Galvez’s Social Studies class. We all sat at our desks, smiling at it. It seemed to smile back. There was something profoundly cheering about the idea that we could all trust each other, that the enemy could be identified. I knew it wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t entirely false either.

Sra Galvez ia entra e ia toca sua capeles e ia pone sua PortaScola sur sua table e ia comuta lo. El ia prende sua creta e ia turna se per fasa la mureta. Tota nos ia rie. Bondisposada, ma nos ia rie.

Ms Galvez came in and patted her hair and set down her SchoolBook on her desk and powered it up. She picked up her chalk and turned around to face the board. We all laughed. Good-naturedly, but we laughed.

El ia turna se, ance riente. “La infla ia afeta la scrivores de sloganes de la nasion, lo pare. Cuanto de vos sabe de do esta frase veni?”

She turned around and was laughing too. “Inflation has hit the nation’s slogan-writers, it seems. How many of you know where this phrase comes from?”

Nos ia regarda lunlotra. “Hipis?” algun ia dise, e nos ia rie. Hipis es a tota locas en San Francisco, no sola la spesie vea de canabor con barba jigante monstrin e stofas de batic, ma ance la spesie nova, ci gusta plu porta vestes fantasin e cisa jua futbal con un saco de favas ca fa cualce protesta.

We looked at each other. “Hippies?” someone said, and we laughed. Hippies are all over San Francisco, both the old stoner kinds with giant skanky beards and tie-dyes, and the new kind, who are more into dress-up and maybe playing hacky-sack than protesting anything.

“Bon, oce, hipis. Ma cuando nos pensa a hipis a esta dias, nos pensa a sola la vestes e la musica. Vestes e musica ia es tanjente a la parte xef de la cualia importante de acel eda, la desenio de 1960.

“Well, yes, hippies. But when we think of hippies these days, we just think of the clothes and the music. Clothes and music were incidental to the main part of what made that era, the sixties, important.

“Vos ia oia ja sur la promove de diretos sivil per fini la segrega: jovenes blanca e negra como vos ci ia viaja sur buses a la Sude per enscrive votores negra e per protesta contra la razisme ofisial de la nasion. California ia es un de la locas major de do la xefes de diretos sivil ia veni. Nos ia es sempre pico plu political ca la resta de la pais, e esta es ance un parte de la pais do persones negra ia pote ave la mesma postos sindicatida de fabriceria como persones blanca, donce sua situa ia es pico plu bon ca lo de sua cusines en la Sude.

“You’ve heard about the civil rights movement to end segregation, white and black kids like you riding buses into the South to sign up black voters and protest against official state racism. California was one of the main places where the civil rights leaders came from. We’ve always been a little more political than the rest of the country, and this is also a part of the country where black people have been able to get the same union factory jobs as white people, so they were a little better off than their cousins in the southland.

“La studiantes a la Universia en Berkeley ia envia a la Sude un flue constante de viajores per libria, e los ia enscrive los a tables de informa en la vila de universia, a Via Bancroft e Bolevar Telegraph. Probable vos ia vide ce on ave ancora tables ala oji.

“The students at Berkeley sent a steady stream of freedom riders south, and they recruited them from information tables on campus, at Bancroft and Telegraph Avenue. You’ve probably seen that there are still tables there to this day.

“Bon, la universia ia atenta sesa los. La presidente de la universia ia proibi organizas political sur sua tereno, ma la xices de diretos sivil no ia sesa. La polisia ia atenta aresta un om ci ia distribui leteratur de un de esta tables, e on ia pone el en un furgon, ma 3000 studiantes ia ensirca la furgon e ia refusa lasa ce lo move. Los no ia permete ce on prende esta joven a prison. Los ia sta sur la furgon e ia fa parlas sur la Ajusta Prima de la Constitui e sur la Libria de Parla.

“Well, the campus tried to shut them down. The president of the university banned political organizing on campus, but the civil rights kids wouldn’t stop. The police tried to arrest a guy who was handing out literature from one of these tables, and they put him in a van, but 3,000 students surrounded the van and refused to let it budge. They wouldn’t let them take this kid to jail. They stood on top of the van and gave speeches about the First Amendment and Free Speech.

“Esta ia anima la Promove de Parla Libre. Esta ia es la comensa de la hipis, ma lo ia es ance la orijina de promoves plu radisal de studiantes. Grupos per potia negra como la Panteras Negra – e, plu tarda, ance grupos per diretos ge como la Panteras Ros. Grupos radisal per femes, an ‘separadistes lesbian’ ci ia vole aboli tota omes! E la YIP, la Partito Internasional de Jovenia. Esce cualcun conose la yipis?”

“That galvanized the Free Speech Movement. That was the start of the hippies, but it was also where more radical student movements came from. Black power groups like the Black Panthers – and later gay rights groups like the Pink Panthers, too. Radical women’s groups, even ‘lesbian separatists’ who wanted to abolish men altogether! And the Yippies. Anyone ever hear of the Yippies?”

“Los ia flota la Pentagon, no?” – me ia dise. Me ia vide un filma documentinte sur esta.

“Didn’t they levitate the Pentagon?” I said. I’d once seen a documentary about this.

El ia rie. “Me ia oblida acel, ma si, los ia fa tal! Yipis ia es simil a hipis multe political, ma los no ia es seria como nos pensa a la politica aora. Los ia es multe juosa. Rusores. Los ia lansa mone a en la Asioneria de York Nova. Los ia ensirca la Pentagon con sentos de protestores e ia dise un encanta majiosa, suposada per flota lo. Los ia inventa un spesie imajinal de LSD capas de es salpicada sur persones par pistoles de acua, e ia jeta lo sur lunlotra e ia finje es drogida. Los ia es divertinte e los ia impresa bon en televisa – un yipi, un bufon nomida Wavy Gravy, ia organiza ce sentos de protestores vesti se como Papa Natal afin la cameras va mostra polisiores ci aresta e tira Papa Natal a via en la novas de acel sera – e los ia prepara multe persones per batalia.

She laughed. “I forgot about that, but yes, that was them! Yippies were like very political hippies, but they weren’t serious the way we think of politics these days. They were very playful. Pranksters. They threw money into the New York Stock Exchange. They circled the Pentagon with hundreds of protestors and said a magic spell that was supposed to levitate it. They invented a fictional kind of LSD that you could spray onto people with squirt-guns and shot each other with it and pretended to be stoned. They were funny and they made great TV – one Yippie, a clown called Wavy Gravy, used to get hundreds of protestors to dress up like Santa Claus so that the cameras would show police officers arresting and dragging away Santa on the news that night – and they mobilized a lot of people.

“Sua momento grande ia es la Confere Nasional Democrata en 1968, do los ia urje protestas contra la Gera de Vietnam. Miles de protestores ia flue a Chicago, ia dormi en la parces e ia protesta a cada dia. Los ia fa multe atas bizara en acel anio, como proposa ce on nomina un porco nomida Pigasus per la presidentia. La polisia e la protestores ia combate sur la stradas – los ia fa ja esta a multe veses, ma la polisiores de Chicago no ia es sufisinte astuta per asteni contra la reportores. Los ia bate la reportores, e la reportores ia venja se par mostra final lo cual aveni vera a tal protestas, e donce la pais intera ia vide ce sua jovenes es vera savaje bateda par la polisia de Chicago. On ia nomi lo un ‘tumulta de polisia’.

“Their big moment was the Democratic National Convention in 1968, where they called for demonstrations to protest the Vietnam War. Thousands of demonstrators poured into Chicago, slept in the parks, and picketed every day. They had lots of bizarre stunts that year, like running a pig called Pigasus for the presidential nomination. The police and the demonstrators fought in the streets – they’d done that many times before, but the Chicago cops didn’t have the smarts to leave the reporters alone. They beat up the reporters, and the reporters retaliated by finally showing what really went on at these demonstrations, so the whole country watched their kids being really savagely beaten down by the Chicago police. They called it a ‘police riot.’

“La yipis ia ama dise: ‘Fida nunca un person plu vea ca 30.’ Los ia vole dise ce persones naseda ante un tempo definida, cuando la SUA ia batalia enemis como la nazis, pote nunca comprende la sinifia de ama tan multe sua pais ce on refusa combate la vietes. Los ia crede ce, pos 30 anios de vive, la disposa de persones es ja tan fisada ce los pote nunca comprende perce la jovenes de la tempo asembla sur la stradas, abandona la sosia, deveni fol par drogas.

“The Yippies loved to say, ‘Never trust anyone over 30.’ They meant that people who were born before a certain time, when America had been fighting enemies like the Nazis, could never understand what it meant to love your country enough to refuse to fight the Vietnamese. They thought that by the time you hit 30, your attitudes would be frozen and you couldn’t ever understand why the kids of the day were taken to the streets, dropping out, freaking out.

“San Francisco ia es la episentro de esta. Armadas revoluinte ia es fundida asi. Alga de los ia esplode construidas o ia ruba bancos per sua intendes. Multe de esta jovenes ia deveni adultes plu o min normal, e otras ia fini en prison. Alga de la abandonores de universia ia fa cosas stonante – per esemplo, Steve Jobs e Steve Wozniak, ci ia fundi Apple Computers e ia inventa la computador personal.”

“San Francisco was ground zero for this. Revolutionary armies were founded here. Some of them blew up buildings or robbed banks for their cause. A lot of those kids grew up to be more or less normal, while others ended up in jail. Some of the university dropouts did amazing things – for example, Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, who founded Apple Computers and invented the PC.”

Me ia deveni vera interesada par esta. Me ia sabe ja alga de lo, ma me ia oia nunca un tal raconta de lo. O cisa lo ia pare nunca tan importante como aora. Subita, acel protestas debil e rituin par adultes sur la stradas no ia pare an tan debil. Cisa on ia ave spasio per tal atas en la promove de Rede X.

I was really getting into this. I knew a little of it, but I’d never heard it told like this. Or maybe it had never mattered as much as it did now. Suddenly, those lame, solemn, grown-up street demonstrations didn’t seem so lame after all. Maybe there was room for that kind of action in the Xnet movement.

Me ia leva mea mano. “Esce los ia vinse? Esce la yipis ia vinse?”

I put my hand up. “Did they win? Did the Yippies win?”

El ia regarda me tra tempo longa, como si considerante. Nun ia parla. Tota nos ia vole oia la responde.

She gave me a long look, like she was thinking it over. No one said a word. We all wanted to hear the answer.

“Los no ia perde.” – el ia dise. “Los ia implode a alga grado. Alga de los ia vade a prison par causa de drogas o otra cosas. Alga de los ia cambia sua canta e ia deveni iupis e ia turi, presentante lesones per informa la mundo ce los ia condui tan fol, e parlante sur la bonia de avaria e sua propre stupidia presedente.

“They didn’t lose,” she said. “They kind of imploded a little. Some of them went to jail for drugs or other things. Some of them changed their tunes and became yuppies and went on the lecture circuit telling everyone how stupid they’d been, talking about how good greed was and how dumb they’d been.

“Ma los ia cambia la mundo. La gera en Vietnam ia fini, e la spesie de conforma e obedi nondutante, cual a ante on ia nomi patriotisme, ia deveni nonmodosa a grado profonda. Diretos de persones negra, de femes e de persones ge ia progresa multe. Diretos de mexicanes, diretos de persones descapasida, la tradision intera de librias sivil ia es creada o fortida par esta persones. La promove protestante de oji desende direta de acel lutas.”

“But they did change the world. The war in Vietnam ended, and the kind of conformity and unquestioning obedience that people had called patriotism went out of style in a big way. Black rights, women’s rights and gay rights came a long way. Chicano rights, rights for disabled people, the whole tradition of civil liberties was created or strengthened by these people. Today’s protest movement is the direct descendant of those struggles.”

“Me no pote crede ce tu parla tal sur los.” – Carl ia dise. El ia apoia tan a ante sur sua seja ce el ia sta partal, e sua fas agu e magra ia roji ja. El ia ave oios grande e umida e labios spesa, e cuando el ia es stimulada, el ia aspeta alga simil a un pex.

“I can’t believe you’re talking about them like this,” Charles said. He was leaning so far in his seat he was half standing, and his sharp, skinny face had gone red. He had wet, large eyes and big lips, and when he got excited he looked a little like a fish.

Sra Galvez ia rijidi pico, ante dise – “Continua, Carl.”

Ms Galvez stiffened a little, then said, “Go on, Charles.”

“Tu veni de descrive teroristes. Teroristes vera. Los ia esplode construidas, tu ia dise. Los ia atenta destrui la asioneria. Los ia bate polisiores, e ia preveni la polisia de aresta los ci ia rompe leges. Los ia ataca nos!”

“You’ve just described terrorists. Actual terrorists. They blew up buildings, you said. They tried to destroy the stock exchange. They beat up cops, and stopped cops from arresting people who were breaking the law. They attacked us!”

Sra Galvez ia acorda lenta con testa. Me ia pote vide ce el serebri un modo de maneja Carl, ci ia pare vera a punto de creve. “Carl fa un bon punto. La yipis no ia es ajentes stranjer – los ia es sitadanes esuan. Cuando tu dise ‘Los ia ataca nos’, tu debe comprende ci es ‘los’ e ci es ‘nos’. Cuando tua propre paisanes —”

Ms Galvez nodded slowly. I could tell she was trying to figure out how to handle Charles, who really seemed like he was ready to pop. “Charles raises a good point. The Yippies weren’t foreign agents, they were American citizens. When you say ‘They attacked us,’ you need to figure out who ‘they’ and ‘us’ are. When it’s your fellow countrymen –”

“Caca!” – el ia cria. El ia sta aora. “Nos ia gera alora. Acel xices ia dona aida e comforta a la enemi. Lo es fasil ce on vide ci es nos e ci es los: Si on suporta la SUA, on es de nos. Si on suporta la persones ci spara a esuanes, on es de los.”

“Crap!” he shouted. He was on his feet now. “We were at war then. These guys were giving aid and comfort to the enemy. It’s easy to tell who’s us and who’s them: if you support America, you’re us. If you support the people who are shooting at Americans, you’re them.”

“Esce otra persones vole comenta a esta?”

“Does anyone else want to comment on this?”

Manos variosa ia asende. Sra Galvez ia invita los. Alga persones ia indica ce la razona par cual la vietes ia spara a esuanes es ce la esuanes ia vola a Vietnam e ia comensa core tra la jungla con fusiles. Otras ia opina ce Carl dise coreta ce on debe no permete ce persones fa atas nonlegal.

Several hands shot up. Ms Galvez called on them. Some people pointed out that the reason that the Vietnamese were shooting at Americans is that the Americans had flown to Vietnam and started running around the jungle with guns. Others thought that Charles had a point, that people shouldn’t be allowed to do illegal things.

Cadun ia fa un bon debate estra Carl, ci ia fa no plu ca cria contra persones, interompente los cuando los ia atenta espresa sua opinas. Sra Galvez ia atenta fa ce el espeta sua turno a un o du veses, ma Carl tota no ia vole aseta lo.

Everyone had a good debate except Charles, who just shouted at people, interrupting them when they tried to get their points out. Ms Galvez tried to get him to wait for his turn a couple times, but he wasn’t having any of it.

Me ia xerca alga cosa en mea PortaScola, un cosa cual me ia leje ja, me ia sabe.

I was looking something up on my SchoolBook, something I knew I’d read.

Me ia trova lo. Me ia leva me. Sra Galvez ia regarda me en modo espetante. La otra persones ia segue sua regarda e ia silenti. An Carl ia regarda me pos un tempo, e sua oios umida e grande ia arde con odia de me.

I found it. I stood up. Ms Galvez looked expectantly at me. The other people followed her gaze and went quiet. Even Charles looked at me after a while, his big wet eyes burning with hatred for me.

“Me ia vole leje alga cosa.” – me ia dise. “Lo es corta. ‘Governas es instituida entre persones, derivante sua potias justa par la acorda de la governadas; cuando cualce forma de governa comensa destrui esta intendes, la popla ave la direto de altera o aboli lo, e de institui un governa nova, ponente sua funda sur tal prinsipes, e organizante sua potias en tal forma, cual va pare a los la plu capas de reali sua securia e felisia.’”

“I wanted to read something,” I said. “It’s short. ‘Governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.’”