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 · Epiloga

14. Bitnic

Rede X no ia es multe divertinte a media de la dia scolal, cuando tota sua usores ia es en scola. Me ia ave la peso de paper pliada en la pox retro de mea jina, e me ia lansa lo sur la table de cosina cuando me ia reveni a casa. Me ia senta me en la salon e ia comuta la tele. Me ia regarda nunca lo, ma me ia sabe ce mea jenitores regarda lo. La tele e la radio e la jornales ia es la fontes de tota sua ideas sur la mundo.

The Xnet wasn’t much fun in the middle of the school-day, when all the people who used it were in school. I had the piece of paper folded in the back pocket of my jeans, and I threw it on the kitchen table when I got home. I sat down in the living room and switched on the TV. I never watched it, but I knew that my parents did. The TV and the radio and the newspapers were where they got all their ideas about the world.

La novas ia es asustante. On ia ave tan multe razonas per teme. Soldatos esuan ia es morinte en tota locas de la mundo. E no sola soldatos. Membros de la Garda Nasional, ci ia pensa ce los enscrive per aida salva persones de siclones, stasionida estra la pais per anios pos anios de un gera longa sin fini.

The news was terrible. There were so many reasons to be scared. American soldiers were dying all over the world. Not just soldiers, either. National guardsmen, who thought they were signing up to help rescue people from hurricanes, stationed overseas for years and years of a long and endless war.

Me ia vaga tra la canales de novas de 24 oras, la un pos la otra, un parade de ofisiores disente a nos perce nos debe teme. Un parade de fotos de bombas esplodente en tota locas de la mundo.

I flipped around the 24-hour news networks, one after another, a parade of officials telling us why we should be scared. A parade of photos of bombs going off around the world.

Me ia vaga plu e ia trova ce me regarda un fas familiar. Lo ia es la om ci ia entra a la camion e ia parla a Fem de Capeles Sever cuando me ia es cadenida en la retro. El ia porta un uniforma militar. La sutitulo ia identifia el como Jeneral Major Graeme Sutherland, Comandor Rejional de la Departe de Securia Interna.

I kept flipping and found myself looking at a familiar face. It was the guy who had come into the truck and spoken to Severe-Haircut woman when I was chained up in the back. Wearing a military uniform. The caption identified him as Major General Graeme Sutherland, Regional Commander, DHS.

“Me teni en mea manos leteratur vera disponable a la conserta tal nomida en Parce Dolores en la fini de semana pasada.” El ia leva un pila de folias. On ia ave ala multe distribuores de folias, me ia recorda. Sempre cuando on ave un grupo de persones en San Francisco, on ave folias de informa.

“I hold in my hands actual literature on offer at the so-called concert in Dolores Park last weekend.” He held up a stack of pamphlets. There’d been lots of pamphleteers there, I remembered. Wherever you got a group of people in San Francisco, you got pamphlets.

“Me vole ce vos regarda estas per un momento. Ta ce me leje a vos sua titulos. SIN LA ACORDA DE LA GOVERNADAS: UN GIDA PER SITADANES SUR SUVERTI LA STATO. Asi nos ave: ESCE LA BOMBIS DE 11 SETEMBRE IA AVENI VERA? E un plu: METODOS PER USA LA SECURIA DE LOS CONTRA LOS. Esta leteratur mostra a nos la ojeto vera de la asembla nonlegal a la note de saturdi. Esta no ia es mera un asembla nonsecur de miles de persones sin cautis conveninte, o an saletas privata. Lo ia es un campania de enscrive per la enemi. Lo ia es un atenta de dejenera jovenes a aseta la idea ce America no debe proteje se.

“I want you to look at these for a moment. Let me read you their titles. WITHOUT THE CONSENT OF THE GOVERNED: A CITIZEN’S GUIDE TO OVERTHROWING THE STATE. Here’s one, DID THE SEPTEMBER 11TH BOMBINGS REALLY HAPPEN? And another, HOW TO USE THEIR SECURITY AGAINST THEM. This literature shows us the true purpose of the illegal gathering on Saturday night. This wasn’t merely an unsafe gathering of thousands of people without proper precaution, or even toilets. It was a recruiting rally for the enemy. It was an attempt to corrupt children into embracing the idea that America shouldn’t protect herself.

“Regarda esta slogan: FIDA NUN PLU VEA CA 25. Par cual modo on serti plu bon ce on injeta tota no discute considerada, ecuilibrada, adulte a sua mesaje proteroriste, ca par esclui la adultes, limitante la grupo a persones joven e impresable?

“Take this slogan, DON’T TRUST ANYONE OVER 25. What better way to ensure that no considered, balanced, adult discussion is ever injected into your pro-terrorist message than to exclude adults, limiting your group to impressionable young people?

“Cuando la polisia ia veni a la sena, los ia trova un campania de enscrive aveninte per la enemis de la SUA. La asembla ia disturba ja la notes de sentos de abitores en la distrito, de ci on ia consulta nun en projeta esta rev de note intera.

“When police came on the scene, they found a recruitment rally for America’s enemies in progress. The gathering had already disrupted the nights of hundreds of residents in the area, none of whom had been consulted in the planning of this all night rave party.

“Los ia comanda ce esta persones desgrupi – acel es vidable en tota la videos – e cuando la selebrores ia turna per ataca los, corajida par la musicistes sur la stadio, la polisia ia supresa los par tecnicas nonmatante per controla folas.

“They ordered these people to disperse – that much is visible on all the video – and when the revelers turned to attack them, egged on by the musicians on stage, the police subdued them using non-lethal crowd control techniques.

“La arestadas ia es gidores e provocores ci ia fa ce la miles de persones joven impresable ala ataca la linias de polisiores. 827 de los ia es detenida. Multe de esta persones ia es ja rejistrada como criminores. Un comanda de aresta ia esiste ja per plu ca 100 de los. Los es ancora prisonida.

“The arrestees were ring-leaders and provocateurs who had led the thousands of impressionistic young people there to charge the police lines. 827 of them were taken into custody. Many of these people had prior offenses. More than 100 of them had outstanding warrants. They are still in custody.

“Senioras e seniores, la SUA gera a multe frontes, ma en no loca lo es en plu peril ca asi, sur sua propre tereno, si nos es atacada par teroristes o par los ci simpatia los.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, America is fighting a war on many fronts, but nowhere is she in more grave danger than she is here, at home. Whether we are being attacked by terrorists or those who sympathize with them.”

Un reportor ia leva un mano e ia dise: “Jeneral Sutherland, tu no dise vera ce esta jovenes ia suporta teroristes car los ia vade a un selebra en un parce, si?”

A reporter held up a hand and said, “General Sutherland, surely you’re not saying that these children were terrorist sympathizers for attending a party in a park?”

“Natural no. Ma cuando persones joven es poneda su la influe de la enemis de nosa pais, los pote fasil fini en acua tro profonda. Teroristes ta enscrive zelosa un colona sinco per fa la gera per los a nosa fronte interna. Si estas ta es mea enfantes, me ta es grave ansiosa.”

“Of course not. But when young people are brought under the influence of our country’s enemies, it’s easy for them to end up over their heads. Terrorists would love to recruit a fifth column to fight the war on the home front for them. If these were my children, I’d be gravely concerned.”

Un otra reportor ia ajunta sua vose. “Ma esta ia es no plu ca un conserta su sielo, no, Jeneral? Apena los ia eserse con fusiles.”

Another reporter chimed in. “Surely this is just an open air concert, General? They were hardly drilling with rifles.”

La jeneral ia produi un pila de fotos e ia comensa mostra los. “Estas es imajes cual ofisiores ia fa par cameras infraroja ante avansa.” El ia teni los a lado de sua fas e ia revela los como pajes pos lunlotra. Los ia mostra persones ci dansa vera savaje, algas ci deveni presada o craseda su pede. A pos, los ia traversa a cosas sesal entre la arbores: un xica con tre xicos, du xicos besante lunlotra. “On ia ave enfantes tan joven como des anios a esta aveni. Un coctel perilosa de drogas, propaganda e musica ia resulta deses de feris. Lo es stonante ce nun ia mori.”

The General produced a stack of photos and began to hold them up. “These are pictures that officers took with infra-red cameras before moving in.” He held them next to his face and paged through them one at a time. They showed people dancing really rough, some people getting crushed or stepped on. Then they moved into sex stuff by the trees, a girl with three guys, two guys necking together. “There were children as young as ten years old at this event. A deadly cocktail of drugs, propaganda and music resulted in dozens of injuries. It’s a wonder there weren’t any deaths.”

Me ia descomuta la tele. On ia fa ce lo pare como un tumulta. Si mea jenitores ta crede ce me ia es ala, los ta lia me a mea leto per un mense e ta lasa ce me sorti sola con radiocolar a pos.

I switched the TV off. They made it look like it had been a riot. If my parents thought I’d been there, they’d have strapped me to my bed for a month and only let me out afterward wearing a tracking collar.

E a la mesma tema, los va es furiosa pos descovre ce on ia suspende me.

Speaking of which, they were going to be pissed when they found out I’d been suspended.

Los no ia bonveni lo. Papa ia vole enclui me en la casa, ma Mama e me ia convinse el a contra.

They didn’t take it well. Dad wanted to ground me, but Mom and I talked him out of it.

“Tu sabe ce acel visxef despeta Marcus ja tra anios.” – Mama ia dise. “Pos nosa encontra la plu resente con el, tu ia spende un ora en maldise el. Me crede ce la parola ‘pixeta’ ia es usada a veses repeteda.”

“You know that vice-principal has had it in for Marcus for years,” Mom said. “The last time we met him you cursed him for an hour afterward. I think the word ‘asshole’ was mentioned repeatedly.”

Papa ia nega con testa. “Disturba un leson per disputa contra la Departe de Securia Interna —”

Dad shook his head. “Disrupting a class to argue against the Department of Homeland Security –”

“Lo es un clase de studias sosial, Papa.” – me ia dise. Me ia ave no plu capasia de cura, ma me ia senti ce, si Mama vole defende me, me debe aida el. “Nos ia parla sur la Departe. Esce on no dise ce debates es saninte?”

“It’s a social studies class, Dad,” I said. I was beyond caring anymore, but I felt like if Mom was going to stick up for me, I should help her out. “We were talking about the DHS. Isn’t debate supposed to be healthy?”

“Vide, fio.” – el ia dise. El ia comensa multe nomi me “fio”. Esta ia dona a me la senti ce el ia sesa regarda me como un person e ia cambia a vide me como un spesie de larva partal formida cual nesesa es gidada a estra adolese. Me ia odia lo. “Tu va debe aprende vive con la fato ce nos abita aora un mundo diferente. Tu ave cada direto de espresa sua opina, natural, ma tu debe es preparada per la seguentes de fa tal. Tu debe fronti la fato ce on ave persones ci dole, ci no desira discute la puntos plu sutil de la leges constitual cuando sua vives es riscada. Nos es aora en un barco de salva, e cuando on es en la barco de salva, nun desira oia sur la malvole de la capitan.”

“Look, son,” he said. He’d taking to calling me “son” a lot. It made me feel like he’d stopped thinking of me as a person and switched to thinking of me as a kind of half-formed larva that needed to be guided out of adolescence. I hated it. “You’re going to have to learn to live with the fact that we live in a different world today. You have every right to speak your mind of course, but you have to be prepared for the consequences of doing so. You have to face the fact that there are people who are hurting, who aren’t going to want to argue the finer points of Constitutional law when their lives are at stake. We’re in a lifeboat now, and once you’re in the lifeboat, no one wants to hear about how mean the captain is being.”

Me ia preveni apena me de rola mea oios.

I barely restrained myself from rolling my eyes.

“On ia asinia a me du semanas de studia autonom, afin me scrive un esajo per cada de mea sujetos, usante la site per mea fondo – un esajo sur istoria, un sur studias sosial, un sur engles, un sur fisica. Esta es plu bon ca senta televidente a casa.”

“I’ve been assigned two weeks of independent study, writing one paper for each of my subjects, using the city for my background – a history paper, a social studies paper, an English paper, a physics paper. It beats sitting around at home watching television.”

Papa ia regarda forte me, como si el suspeta ce me scema mal, ma ia acorda con testa. Me ia dise “bon note” a los e ia asende a mea sala. Me ia comuta mea Xbox e ia inisia un program de scrive e ia comensa serebri ideas per mea esajos. Perce no? Esta vera ia es plu bon ca senta a casa.

Dad looked hard at me, like he suspected I was up to something, then nodded. I said goodnight to them and went up to my room. I fired up my Xbox and opened a word-processor and started to brainstorm ideas for my papers. Why not? It really was better than sitting around at home.

Ultima me ia mesaje instante con Anj tra alga longa en acel note. El ia es compatiosa sur tota, e ia dise ce el va aida me con mea esajos si me va reuni con el pos scola a la sera seguente. Me ia sabe do sua scola es – el ia vade a la mesma scola como Van – e lo ia es a la otra lado distante en Baia Este, do me no ia visita de pos la esplode de la bombas.

I ended up IMing with Ange for quite a while that night. She was sympathetic about everything and told me she’d help me with my papers if I wanted to meet her after school the next night. I knew where her school was – she went to the same school as Van – and it was all the way over in the East Bay, where I hadn’t visited since the bombs went.

Me ia es vera stimulada par la idea de revide el. A cada note pos la selebra, me ia vade a leto con du pensas en la mente: la vide de la fola corente per ataca la linias de polisia, e la sensa de la lado de sua seno su sua camisa cuando nos ia apoia a la colona. El ia es stonante. Me ia es nunca con un xica tan… agresiva como el. A ante, lo ia aveni sempre ce me ia fa la moves e los ia puxa me a via. Me ia ave la senti ce Anj es un can tan libidosa como me. Esta ia es un idea estrema tisante.

I was really excited at the prospect of seeing her again. Every night since the party, I’d gone to bed thinking of two things: the sight of the crowd charging the police lines and the feeling of the side of her breast under her shirt as we leaned against the pillar. She was amazing. I’d never been with a girl as…aggressive as her before. It had always been me putting the moves on and them pushing me away. I got the feeling that Ange was as much of a horn-dog as I was. It was a tantalizing notion.

Me ia dormi profonda en acel note, con sonias stimulante sur me e Anj e cua cisa nos ta fa si nos ta trova nos en alga loca isolida.

I slept soundly that night, with exciting dreams of me and Ange and what we might do if we found ourselves in a secluded spot somewhere.

A la dia seguente, me ia comensa labora a mea esajos. San Francisco es un bon tema de scrive. Istoria? Serta, on ave lo, de la Febre de Oro asta la barconerias de la Gera Mundal Du, la campas de consentra japanes, la inventa de la PC. Fisica? La Exploratorium ave la esibis la plu bon de cualce museo cual me ia visita. Me ia senti un sasia pervertida a la esibis sur la licuidi de tera en tremas grande. Leteratur? Jack London, poesistes bitnic, autores de naras siensal como Pat Murphy e Rudy Rucker. Studias sosial? La Promove de Libria de Parla, Cesar Chavez, diretos ge, femisme, la promove contra gera…

The next day, I set out to work on my papers. San Francisco is a good place to write about. History? Sure, it’s there, from the Gold Rush to the WWII shipyards, the Japanese internment camps, the invention of the PC. Physics? The Exploratorium has the coolest exhibits of any museum I’ve ever been to. I took a perverse satisfaction in the exhibits on soil liquefaction during big quakes. English? Jack London, Beat Poets, science fiction writers like Pat Murphy and Rudy Rucker. Social studies? The Free Speech Movement, Cesar Chavez, gay rights, feminism, anti-war movement…

Me ia ama sempre aprende cosas mera per aprende los. Mera per es plu astuta sur la mundo sirca me. Me ia pote fa esta par pasea simple tra la site. Me ia deside ce me va fa prima un esajo de leteratur sur la bitnices. La libreria City Lights ia ave un biblioteca eselente en un sala a supra, do Alan Ginsberg e sua cameradas ia crea sua poesias drogin e radisal. Lo cual nos ia leje en lesones engles ia es Ulula, e me va oblida nunca la linias abrinte – los ia trema mea dorso:

I’ve always loved just learning stuff for its own sake. Just to be smarter about the world around me. I could do that just by walking around the city. I decided I’d do an English paper about the Beats first. City Lights books had a great library in an upstairs room where Alan Ginsberg and his buddies had created their radical druggy poetry. The one we’d read in English class was Howl and I would never forget the opening lines, they gave me shivers down my back:

Me ia vide la mentes la plu bon de mea jenera, destruida par dementia, faminte isterica nuda,
tirante se tra la stradas negra a matini, xercante un remedia coler,
jazores con testa de anjel, ardente per la lia antica sielal a la dinamo stelosa en la macinas de note…

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night…

Me ia gusta como el ia junta tota acel parolas, “faminte isterica nuda”. Me ia conose acel senti. E ance “mentes la plu bon de mea jenera” ia fa ce me pensa forte. Lo ia fa ce me recorda la parce e la polisia e la gas cadente. On ia acusa Ginsberg de osenia par Ulula – mera par un linia sur seso ge cual ia ta causa apena un palpebri oji. Lo ia felisi me en alga modo, la sabe ce nos ia fa alga progresa. Ce la situa a ante ia es an plu restrinjente ca aora.

I liked the way he ran those words all together, “starving hysterical naked.” I knew how that felt. And “best minds of my generation” made me think hard too. It made me remember the park and the police and the gas falling. They busted Ginsberg for obscenity over Howl – all about a line about gay sex that would hardly have caused us to blink an eye today. It made me happy somehow, knowing that we’d made some progress. That things had been even more restrictive than this before.

Me ia perde me en la biblioteca, lejente esta bela publicis vea de la libros. Me ia deveni perdeda en Sur la via par Jack Kerouac, un novela cual me ia intende leje tra tempo longa, e un vendor ci ia asende per serti sur me ia acorda aprobante con testa e ia trova un copia barata cual el ia vende a me per ses dolares.

I lost myself in the library, reading these beautiful old editions of the books. I got lost in Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, a novel I’d been meaning to read for a long time, and a clerk who came up to check on me nodded approvingly and found me a cheap edition that he sold me for six bucks.

Me ia pasea a la distrito xines e ia come panetas de dimsam e talietas con un salsa spisosa cual me ia regarda como vera agu a ante, ma cual va pare nunca denova an pico tan agu, pos mea proba de la spesial de Anj.

I walked into Chinatown and had dim sum buns and noodles with hot-sauce that I had previously considered to be pretty hot, but which would never seem anything like hot ever again, not now that I’d had an Ange special.

Cuando la dia ia maturi a la posmedia, me ia viaja par la metro ante cambia a un bus navetin de la Ponte San Mateo per porta me asta Baia Este. Me ia leje mea copia de Sur la via e ia saborea la vistas rapida pasante. Sur la via es un novela partal autobiografial sur Jack Kerouac, un autor drogamanica e tro bevinte ci autostopa tra la SUA, misera laborante, ululante tra la stradas a note, encontrante persones e partinte de los. Dandis, vagabones de fas triste, enganores, rubores, brutas e anjeles. Lo no ave vera un trama – on dise ce Kerouac ia scrive lo en tre semanas sur un enrola longa de paper, demente drogida – ma mera un colie de cosas stonante, aveninte pos lunlotra. El amini persones autodestruinte como Dean Moriarty, ci envolve el en scemas bizara cual vade nunca vera bon, ma an tal, tota vade bon, si tu comprende me.

As the day wore on toward the afternoon, I got on the BART and switched to a San Mateo bridge shuttle bus to bring me around to the East Bay. I read my copy of On the Road and dug the scenery whizzing past. On the Road is a semi-autobiographical novel about Jack Kerouac, a druggy, hard-drinking writer who goes hitchhiking around America, working crummy jobs, howling through the streets at night, meeting people and parting ways. Hipsters, sad-faced hobos, con-men, muggers, scumbags and angels. There’s not really a plot – Kerouac supposedly wrote it in three weeks on a long roll of paper, stoned out of his mind – only a bunch of amazing things, one thing happening after another. He makes friends with self-destructing people like Dean Moriarty, who get him involved in weird schemes that never really work out, but still it works out, if you know what I mean.

La parolas ia ave un ritmo, lo ia es seduinte, me ia pote oia lo lejeda a vose en mea testa. Lo ia fa ce me desira reposa sur la plataforma de un camioneta e velia en un peti vila polvosa a alga loca en la vale sentral en via a Los Angeles, un de acel locas con un gasolineria e un restorante, e fa no plu ca pasea tra la campos e encontra persones e vide cosas e fa cosas.

There was a rhythm to the words, it was luscious, I could hear it being read aloud in my head. It made me want to lie down in the bed of a pickup truck and wake up in a dusty little town somewhere in the central valley on the way to LA, one of those places with a gas station and a diner, and just walk out into the fields and meet people and see stuff and do stuff.

La viaja de bus ia es longa e lo ia pare ce me ia dormeta alga – la envia de mesajes instante con Anj asta un ora tarda ia afeta mea program de dormi, car Mama ia espeta ancora ce me desende per la come de matina. Me ia velia e ia cambia buses e, pos corta, me ia es a la scola de Anj.

It was a long bus ride and I must have dozed off a little – staying up late IMing with Ange was hard on my sleep-schedule, since Mom still expected me down for breakfast. I woke up and changed buses and before long, I was at Ange’s school.

El ia veni bondinte tra la portetas en sua uniforma – me ia vide nunca el en lo a ante; lo ia es alga beleta en modo strana, e ia remente me a Van en sua uniforma. El ia dona a me un abrasa longa e un besa forte a la jena.

She came bounding out of the gates in her uniform – I’d never seen her in it before, it was kind of cute in a weird way, and reminded me of Van in her uniform. She gave me a long hug and a hard kiss on the cheek.

“Alo, tu!” – el ia dise.

“Hello you!” she said.

“Txau!”

“Hiya!”

“Cua tu leje?”

“Whatcha reading?”

Me ia espeta ja esta. Me ia marca ja la pasaje con un dito. “Escuta: ‘Los ia dansa longo la stradas como dinieldodios, e me ia pantofli pos los como me fa ja tra tota mea vive pos los ci interesa me, car la sola persones ci me gusta es la locos, los ci es loco per vive, loco per parla, loco per es salvada, desirante tota cosas a la mesma tempo, los ci fa nunca un balia o un dise nonorijinal, ma ci arde, arde, arde como candelas roman jala e fantasin cual esplode como aranias tra la stelas, e en la media on vide la creve de la lus sentral azul, e cadun dise “Aaaa!”’”

I’d been waiting for this. I’d marked the passage with a finger. “Listen: ‘They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”’”

El ia prende la libro e ia releje la pasaje per se. “U, dinieldodios! Me ama acel! Esce tota de lo es tal?”

She took the book and read the passage again for herself. “Wow, dingledodies! I love it! Is it all like this?”

Me ia raconta a el sur la partes cual me ia leje, lenta repaseante longo la troteria en dirije a la parabus. Pos cuando nos ia turna a la canto, el ia pone sua braso sirca mea taie e me ia lansa la mea sirca sua spala. Pasea longo la strada con un xica – mea xica de cor? serta, perce no? – parlante sur esta bon libro. Paradiso. Lo ia fa ce me oblida mea problemes per tempo corta.

I told her about the parts I’d read, walking slowly down the sidewalk back toward the bus-stop. Once we turned the corner, she put her arm around my waist and I slung mine around her shoulder. Walking down the street with a girl – my girlfriend? Sure, why not? – talking about this cool book. It was heaven. Made me forget my troubles for a little while.

“Marcus?”

Me ia turna me. El ia es Van. En mea mente suconsensa, me ia espeta ja esta. Me ia sabe, car mea mente consensa no ia es an pico surprendeda. La scola no ia es grande, e tota ia sorti a la mesma tempo. Me no ia parla a Van ja tra semanas, e acel semanas ia pare como menses. A ante, nos ia parla a cada dia.

I turned around. It was Van. In my subconscious I’d expected this. I knew because my conscious mind wasn’t remotely surprised. It wasn’t a big school, and they all got out at the same time. I hadn’t spoken to Van in weeks, and those weeks felt like months. We used to talk every day.

“He, Van.” – me ia dise. Me ia supresa la impulsa de prende mea braso de la spalas de Anj. Van ia pare surprendeda, ma no coler, plu pal, xocada. El ia regarda atendosa la duple de nos.

“Hey, Van,” I said. I suppressed the urge to take my arm off of Ange’s shoulders. Van seemed surprised, but not angry, more ashen, shaken. She looked closely at the two of us.

“Anjela?”

“Angela?”

“He, Vanessa.” – Anj ia dise.

“Hey, Vanessa,” Ange said.

“Cua tu fa asi?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Me ia veni per encontra Anj.” – me ia dise, atentante manteni un vose neutra. Me ia es subita embarasada, videda con un otra xica.

“I came out to get Ange,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. I was suddenly embarrassed to be seen with another girl.

“O.” – Van ia dise. – “Bon, me ia joia vide tu.”

“Oh,” Van said. “Well, it was nice to see you.”

“Me joia ance vide tu, Vanessa.” – Anj ia dise, pivotente me, marxante me denova en dirije a la parabus.

“Nice to see you too, Vanessa,” Ange said, swinging me around, marching me back toward the bus-stop.

“Tu conose el?” – Anj ia dise.

“You know her?” Ange said.

“Si, de sempre.”

“Yeah, since forever.”

“El ia es tua xica de cor?”

“Was she your girlfriend?”

“Como? No! Tota no! Nos ia es mera amis.”

“What? No! No way! We were just friends.”

“Tu ia es amis?”

“You were friends?”

Me ia senti como si Van pasea direta pos nos, escutante, an si nos ia pasea tan rapida ce el ta debe core pico per resta prosima. Me ia resiste tan longa como posible la tenta de regarda supra mea spala, ante fa lo. Multe xicas de la scola ia es pos nos, ma no Van.

I felt like Van was walking right behind us, listening in, though at the pace we were walking, she would have to be jogging to keep up. I resisted the temptation to look over my shoulder for as long as possible, then I did. There were lots of girls from the school behind us, but no Van.

“El ia es con me e Jose Luis e Darryl cuando nos ia es arestada. Nos ia fa JuReAles en junta. La cuatro de nos, nos ia es como amis la plu bon.”

“She was with me and Jose-Luis and Darryl when we were arrested. We used to ARG together. The four of us, we were kind of best friends.”

“E cua ia aveni?”

“And what happened?”

Me ia cuieti mea vose. “El no ia gusta Rede X.” – me ia dise. “El ia pensa ce nos va trae problemes a nos. Ce me va trae problemes a otras.”

I dropped my voice. “She didn’t like the Xnet,” I said. “She thought we would get into trouble. That I’d get other people into trouble.”

“E donce vos ia sesa es amis?”

“And that’s why you stopped being friends?”

“Nos ia vaga en dirijes diferente.”

“We just drifted apart.”

Nos ia fa alga pasos. “Vos no ia es, em, tal amis como xico e xica de cor?”

We walked a few steps. “You weren’t, you know, boyfriend/girlfriend friends?”

“No!” – me ia dise. Mea fas ia es calda. Me ia senti ce me sona como un mentor, an si me dise la vera.

“No!” I said. My face was hot. I felt like I sounded like I was lying, even though I was telling the truth.

Anj ia para subita nos e ia studia mea fas.

Ange jerked us to a halt and studied my face.

“No?”

“Were you?”

“No! Sinsera! Amis, mera. Darryl e el – bon, no vera, ma Darryl ia es tan zelosa per el. En no modo —”

“No! Seriously! Just friends. Darryl and her – well, not quite, but Darryl was so into her. There was no way –”

“Ma si Darryl no ia ta es zelosa per el, tu ia ta es, si?”

“But if Darryl hadn’t been into her, you would have, huh?”

“No, Anj, no. Per favore, crede me e oblida lo, simple. Vanessa ia es un bon ami e aora no plu, e esta turba me, ma me ia desira nunca el en acel modo, tu comprende?”

“No, Ange, no. Please, just believe me and let it go. Vanessa was a good friend and we’re not anymore, and that upsets me, but I was never into her that way, all right?

El ia colasa pico. “Oce, oce. Pardona me. Me vera no simpatia el, mera esta. Nos no es simpatiosa en tota la anios en cual nos conose lunlotra.”

She slumped a little. “OK, OK. I’m sorry. I don’t really get along with her is all. We’ve never gotten along in all the years we’ve known each other.”

Aha, me ia pensa. Esta ia es como lo ia aveni ce Jolu ia conose tan longa Anj e me ia encontra nunca el; el ia ave un desacorda de alga spesie con Van e Jolu no ia vole trae Anj con se.

Oh ho, I thought. This would be how it came to be that Jolu knew her for so long and I never met her; she had some kind of thing with Van and he didn’t want to bring her around.

El ia fa un abrasa longa a me e nos ia besa, e un colie de xicas ia pasa nos, disente uuuuu, e nos ia reti e ia dirije nos a la parabus. Van ia pasea ante nos; clar el ia pasa cuando nos ia besa. Me ia senti como un culo completa.

She gave me a long hug and we kissed, and a bunch of girls passed us going woooo and we straightened up and headed for the bus-stop. Ahead of us walked Van, who must have gone past while we were kissing. I felt like a complete jerk.

Natural, el ia es a la parabus e en la bus, e nos ia dise an no un parola a lunlotra, e me ia atenta conversa con Anj tra la viaja intera, ma lo ia es embarasante.

Of course, she was at the stop and on the bus and we didn’t say a word to each other, and I tried to make conversation with Ange all the way, but it was awkward.

La intende ia es ce nos va para per un cafe e vade a la casa de Anj per pigri e “studia”, pd. alterna en usa sua Xbox per regarda Rede X. La mama de Anj ia reveni tarda a casa en martedis, car lo ia es la sera per sua clase de ioga e sua come con amis fema, e la sore de Anj va sorti con sua ami de cor, donce nos va es la solas en la casa. Me ia fa pensas pervertida sur esta de cuando nos ia acorda lo.

The plan was to stop for a coffee and head to Ange’s place to hang out and “study,” i.e. take turns on her Xbox looking at the Xnet. Ange’s mom got home late on Tuesdays, which was her night for yoga class and dinner with her girls, and Ange’s sister was going out with her boyfriend, so we’d have the place to ourselves. I’d been having pervy thoughts about it ever since we’d made the plan.

Nos ia ariva a sua casa e ia vade direta a sua sala e ia clui la porte. Sua sala ia es como un desastre, covreda con stratos de vestes e libros de notas e partes de computadores cual ia pica nosa pedes tra la calsetas como feros spinosa. Sua table ia es plu mal ca la solo, con pilas alta de libros e cartunes, donce nos ia senta ultima sur sua leto, no un problem per me.

We got to her place and went straight to her room and shut the door. Her room was kind of a disaster, covered with layers of clothes and notebooks and parts of PCs that would dig into your stocking feet like caltrops. Her desk was worse than the floor, piled high with books and comics, so we ended up sitting on her bed, which was OK by me.

La embarasa de vide Van ia desapare alga e nos ia comuta e inisia sua Xbox. Lo ia es en la sentro de un nido de filos, de cual algas ia vade a un radioantena cual el ia truci a lo e ia fisa a la fenetra per pote adota la Wi-Fi de la visinas. Algas ia vade a un duple de scermos vea de computador portable cual el ia converti a scermos nondependente, ecuilibrada sur portadores e densa con eletronicales esposada. La scermos ia es sur ambos comodetas, en un posa eselente per regarda filmas o mesaje instante de la leto – si el ta fa un turna cuatri a la scermos e ta reclina se sur sua lado, los ta es bon orientada sin depende de la lado sur cual el mesma ta reclina.

The awkwardness from seeing Van had gone away somewhat and we got her Xbox up and running. It was in the center of a nest of wires, some going to a wireless antenna she’d hacked into it and stuck to the window so she could tune in the neighbors’ WiFi. Some went to a couple of old laptop screens she’d turned into standalone monitors, balanced on stands and bristling with exposed electronics. The screens were on both bedside tables, which was an excellent setup for watching movies or IMing from bed – she could turn the monitors sidewise and lie on her side and they’d be right-side-up, no matter which side she lay on.

Ambos nos ia sabe perce nos ia es vera ala, sentante a lado de lunlotra, apoiante contra la comodeta. Me ia trema pico e ia es intensa consensa de la caldia de sua gama e spala contra la meas, ma me ia nesesa pasa tra la prosedes costumal de entra a Rede X, vide cual epostas me ia reseta, e tal plu.

We both knew what we were really there for, sitting side by side propped against the bedside table. I was trembling a little and super-conscious of the warmth of her leg and shoulder against mine, but I needed to go through the motions of logging into Xnet and seeing what email I’d gotten and so on.

Me ia ave un eposta de un xice ci ia gusta envia videos comica filmada par telefon sur la condui demente de la Departe de Securia Interna – en la plu resente, los ia desasembla un careta de bebe cuando un can de deteta bombas ia mostra un interesa a lo, usante turnavises per redui lo a pesos sur la troteria mesma en la distrito Iateria con ce un monton de persones rica ia pasa, regardante los e merveliante a la bizaria.

There was an email from a kid who liked to send in funny phone-cam videos of the DHS being really crazy – the last one had been of them disassembling a baby’s stroller after a bomb-sniffing dog had shown an interest in it, taking it apart with screwdrivers right on the street in the Marina while all these rich people walked past, staring at them and marveling at how weird it was.

Me ia distribui un lia a la video e lo ia deveni zelosa descargada. El ia publici lo en la miror de la Arcivo de Interede en Iskandariyya en Misre, do on tolera cualce cosa si sola on dona a lo la lisensa de Creative Commons, cual permete ce cualcun remisca lo e copia lo. La arcivo esuan – cual ia es en la Presidio, a distantia de sola alga minutos – ia es obligada a sutrae tota esta videos par autoria de securia nasional, ma la arcivo en Iskandariyya ia separa per deveni sua propre organiza e ia ospita aora cualce cosa cual embarasa la SUA.

I’d linked to the video and it had been downloaded like crazy. He’d hosted it on the Internet Archive’s Alexandria mirror in Egypt, where they’d host anything for free so long as you’d put it under the Creative Commons license, which let anyone remix it and share it. The US archive – which was down in the Presidio, only a few minutes away – had been forced to take down all those videos in the name of national security, but the Alexandria archive had split away into its own organization and was hosting anything that embarrassed the USA.

Esta xice – sua alias ia es Kameraspia – ia envia a me un video an plu bon a esta ves. Lo ia es a la porte de la Ofisia de Site en la Sentro Munisipal, un construida jigante simil a un torta de sposi, covreda con scultas en arcos peti e folias e ornas dorada. Securia Interna ia ave un parador secur sirca la construida, e la video de Kameraspia ia mostra un imaje eselente de sua punto de controla cuando un om en uniforma de ofisior ia prosimi e ia mostra sua identia e ia pone sua portafolio sur la banda movente de la radiograf.

This kid – his handle was Kameraspie – had sent me an even better video this time around. It was at the doorway to City Hall in Civic Center, a huge wedding cake of a building covered with statues in little archways and gilt leaves and trim. The DHS had a secure perimeter around the building, and Kameraspie’s video showed a great shot of their checkpoint as a guy in an officer’s uniform approached and showed his ID and put his briefcase on the X-ray belt.

Tota ia es bon asta cuando un de la xices de Securia Interna ia vide en la radiografi un cosa cual el no gusta. El ia demanda a la jeneral, ci ia rola sua oios e ia dise alga cosa nonoiable. (La video ia es filmada de la otra lado de la strada, parente tra un lente de zuma con camufla de amator, donce la audio ia es xef la ruidos de pasores e trafica.)

It was all OK until one of the DHS people saw something he didn’t like on the X-ray. He questioned the General, who rolled his eyes and said something inaudible (the video had been shot from across the street, apparently with a homemade concealed zoom lens, so the audio was mostly of people walking past and traffic noises).

La jeneral e la securiores ia comensa disputa, e plu longa los ia disputa, plu securiores ia asembla sirca los. Final, la jeneral ia secute coler sua testa, ia brandi sua dito a la peto de la securior, ia prende sua portafolio e ia comensa pasea a via. La securiores ia cria a el, ma el no ia lenti. Sua linguaje de corpo ia dise vera: “Me es completa e asoluta furiosa.”

The General and the DHS guys got into an argument, and the longer they argued, the more DHS guys gathered around them. Finally, the General shook his head angrily and waved his finger at the DHS guy’s chest and picked up his briefcase and started to walk away. The DHS guys shouted at him, but he didn’t slow. His body language really said, “I am totally, utterly pissed.”

Alora lo ia aveni. La securiores ia core pos la jeneral. Kameraspia ia lenti asi la video, donce nos ia vide, lenta movente tra imaje pos imaje, la jeneral ci turna partal, con fas espresante “Txa, vos no pote es a punto de tacle me”, ma cambiante a asusta en cuando tre de la gardores jigante de Securia Interna ia colide con el, puxante el a lado per catura el a sua media, como un tacle de futbal cual fini un carera. La jeneral – eda media, capeles de gris aserin, fas plietada e diniosa – ia cade como un saco de patatas e ia rebondi a du veses, con fas batente la troteria e sangue emerjente de sua nas.

Then it happened. The DHS guys ran after the general. Kameraspie slowed the video down here, so we could see, in frame-by-frame slo-mo, the general half-turning, his face all like, “No freaking way are you about to tackle me,” then changing to horror as three of the giant DHS guards slammed into him, knocking him sideways, then catching him at the middle, like a career-ending football tackle. The general – middle aged, steely grey hair, lined and dignified face – went down like a sack of potatoes and bounced twice, his face slamming off the sidewalk and blood starting out of his nose.

Securia Interna ia lia la jeneral como un porco, securinte el a talos e polsos. Aora la jeneral ia es criante, vera criante, e sua fas ia purpuri su la sangue fluente de sua nas. Gamas ia traversa rapida la imaje zumada. Paseores pasante ia regarda esta om uniformida ci deveni liada, e on ia vide par sua fas ce esta ia es la parte la plu mal, la desonora ritual, la sutrae de dinia. La clip ia fini.

The DHS hog-tied the general, strapping him at ankles and wrists. The general was shouting now, really shouting, his face purpling under the blood streaming from his nose. Legs swished by in the tight zoom. Passing pedestrians looked at this guy in his uniform, getting tied up, and you could see from his face that this was the worst part, this was the ritual humiliation, the removal of dignity. The clip ended.

“O, mea cara Buda dulse.” – me ia dise, regardante la scermo negrinte e recomensante la video. Me ia puieta Anj e ia mostra a el la clip. El ia regarda sin parla, con boca abrida asta la peto.

“Oh my dear sweet Buddha,” I said looking at the screen as it faded to black, starting the video again. I nudged Ange and showed her the clip. She watched wordless, jaw hanging down to her chest.

“Posta lo.” – el ia dise. “Posta lo posta lo posta lo posta lo!”

“Post that,” she said. “Post that post that post that post that!”

Me ia posta lo. Me ia pote apena tape per esplica lo, descrivente cua me ia vide, ajuntante un nota per demanda esce cualcun pote identifia la om militar en la video, esce cualcun sabe alga cosa sur esta.

I posted it. I could barely type as I wrote it up, describing what I’d seen, adding a note to see if anyone could identify the military man in the video, if anyone knew anything about this.

Me ia clica Publici.

I hit publish.

Nos ia regarda la video. Nos ia regarda lo denova.

We watched the video. We watched it again.

Mea eposta ia tintina.

My email pinged.

> Me reconose serta acel xice – on pote trova sua biografia en Vicipedia. El es Jeneral Claude Geist. El ia comanda la mision juntada de la NU per manteni la pas en Aiti.

> I totally recognize that dude – you can find his bio on Wikipedia. He’s General Claude Geist. He commanded the joint UN peacekeeping mission in Haiti.

Me ia regarda la biografia. Lo ia ave un foto de la jeneral a un confere jornaliste, e notas sur sua rol en la mision difisil en Aiti. El ia es clar la mesma om.

I checked the bio. There was a picture of the general at a press conference, and notes about his role in the difficult Haiti mission. It was clearly the same guy.

Me ia ajunta a la blog.

I updated the post.

Teorial, esta ia es la momento cuando Anj e me ia pote caresa, ma esta no es lo cual nos ia fa ultima. Nos ia esplora la bloges de Rede X, xercante plu racontas ce Securia Interna ia xerca persones, ia tacle los, ia invade los. Esta ia es un taxe familiar, la mesma como me ia fa con tota la metraje e racontas de la tumultas en la parce. Me ia comensa un categoria nova en mea blog per esta, MalusasDeAutoria, e ia arcivi los. Anj ia pensa constante a parolas nova de xerca cual me ia proba, e cuando sua mama ia reveni, mea categoria nova ia ave setedes postas, de cual la xef ia es la tacle de Jeneral Geist a la Ofisia de Site.

Theoretically, this was Ange’s and my chance to make out, but that wasn’t what we ended up doing. We crawled the Xnet blogs, looking for more accounts of the DHS searching people, tackling people, invading them. This was a familiar task, the same thing I’d done with all the footage and accounts from the riots in the park. I started a new category on my blog for this, AbusesOfAuthority, and filed them away. Ange kept coming up with new search terms for me to try and by the time her mom got home, my new category had seventy posts, headlined by General Geist’s City Hall takedown.

Me ia labora a mea esajo sur la bitnices tra tota la dia seguente a casa, lejente Kerouac e surfante Rede X. Me ia intende reuni con Anj a scola, ma me ia coardi completa a la pensa de revide Van, donce me ia desculpa me par un mesajeta ce me labora a la esajo.

I worked on my Beat paper all the next day at home, reading the Kerouac and surfing the Xnet. I was planning on meeting Ange at school, but I totally wimped out at the thought of seeing Van again, so I texted her an excuse about working on the paper.

Sujestas eselente de tota spesies ia ariva per MalusasDeAutoria; sentos de petis e grandes, videos e audios. La mem ia es sperdente.

There were all kinds of great suggestions for AbusesOfAuthority coming in; hundreds of little and big ones, pictures and audio. The meme was spreading.

Lo ia sperde. A la matina seguente on ia ave an plu. Algun ia comensa un blog nova nomida MalusasDeAutoria cual ia colie sentos de plu. La pila ia crese. Nos ia compete per trova la racontas la plu jusosa, la imajes la plu loco.

It spread. The next morning there were even more. Someone started a new blog called AbusesOfAuthority that collected hundreds more. The pile grew. We competed to find the juiciest stories, the craziest pictures.

La acorda con mea jenitores ia es ce me va come con los a cada matina e va parla sur la projetas cual me fa. Los ia gusta ce me leje Kerouac. Lo ia es un libro favoreda de ambos los, e me ia descovre ce on ave ja un copia en la armario de libros en la sala de mea jenitores. Mea papa ia porta lo a su e me ia vaga tra lo. Lo ia ave pasajes marcada con pen, pajes pliada, notas en la marjin. Mea papa ia ama vera esta libro.

The deal with my parents was that I’d eat breakfast with them every morning and talk about the projects I was doing. They liked that I was reading Kerouac. It had been a favorite book of both of theirs and it turned out there was already a copy on the bookcase in my parents’ room. My dad brought it down and I flipped through it. There were passages marked up with pen, dog-eared pages, notes in the margin. My dad had really loved this book.

Lo ia fa ce me recorda un tempo plu bon, cuando mea papa e me ia pote conversa per sinco minutos sin cria a lunlotra sur terorisme, e nos ia fa un come eselente de matina en parla sur la modo de trama de la novela, tota la aventuras loco.

It made me remember a better time, when my Dad and I had been able to talk for five minutes without shouting at each other about terrorism, and we had a great breakfast talking about the way that the novel was plotted, all the crazy adventures.

Ma a la come de la matina seguente, ambos los ia es fisada a la radio.

But the next morning at breakfast they were both glued to the radio.

“Maltratas de Autoria – lo es la mania la plu resente en la Rede X malfamosa de San Francisco, e lo ia catura la atende de la mundo. Nomida MdA, la promove es composada de ‘frates peti’ ci oserva resiproca la metodos antiteroriste de la Departe de Securia Interna, documentinte la falis e esedes. La cria uninte es un clip video popular e virusin de un Jeneral Claude Geist, un jeneral jubilada de tre stelas, ci ofisiores de Securia Interna ia tacle sur la troteria ante la Ofisia de Site. Geist no ia parla publica sur la aveni, ma comentas de persones joven ci es coler sur sua propre trata ia veni rapida e furiosa.

“Abuses of Authority – it’s the latest craze on San Francisco’s notorious Xnet, and it’s captured the world’s attention. Called A-oh-A, the movement is composed of ‘Little Brothers’ who watch back against the Department of Homeland Security’s anti-terrorism measures, documenting the failures and excesses. The rallying cry is a popular viral video clip of a General Claude Geist, a retired three-star general, being tackled by DHS officers on the sidewalk in front of City Hall. Geist hasn’t made a statement on the incident, but commentary from young people who are upset with their own treatment has been fast and furious.

“La plu notable ia es la atende global cual la promove ia reseta. Imajes de la video de Geist ia apare sur la pajes fronte de jornales en Corea, Britan, Deutxland, Misre e Japan, e difusantes tra la mundo ia publici la clip en sua programes xef de novas. La cosa ia culmina en la sera pasada, cuando la program de novas nasional de sera de BBC, la Corpora Difusante Brites, ia mostra un reporta spesial sur la fato ce no difusante o ajenteria de novas en la SUA ia discute esta tema. Comentores en la pajeria de BBC ia nota ce la varia de la novas difusada par BBC America no ia inclui la reporta.”

“Most notable has been the global attention the movement has received. Stills from the Geist video have appeared on the front pages of newspapers in Korea, Great Britain, Germany, Egypt and Japan, and broadcasters around the world have aired the clip on prime-time news. The issue came to a head last night, when the British Broadcasting Corporation’s National News Evening program ran a special report on the fact that no American broadcaster or news agency has covered this story. Commenters on the BBC’s website noted that BBC America’s version of the news did not carry the report.”

Los ia presenta un duple de intervisas: oservores de la jornales brites, un xice svensce de la Partito Piratin ci ia fa comentas burlante sur la jornales dejenerada de la SUA, un presentor jubilada de novas esuan ci abita en Tocio; pos estas, los ia mostra un clip corta de al-Djazira, comparante la istoria de jornales esuan e de la medias publica en Suria.

They brought on a couple of interviews: British media watchdogs, a Swedish Pirate Party kid who made jeering remarks about America’s corrupt press, a retired American newscaster living in Tokyo, then they aired a short clip from Al-Jazeera, comparing the American press record and the record of the national news-media in Syria.

Me ia senti como si mea jenitores regarda me, ce los sabe cua me fa. Ma cuando me ia pone mea platos a via, me ia vide ce los regarda lunlotra.

I felt like my parents were staring at me, that they knew what I was doing. But when I cleared away my dishes, I saw that they were looking at each other.

Papa ia teni tan forte sua tas de cafe ce sua manos ia trema. Mama ia regarda el.

Dad was holding his coffee cup so hard his hands were shaking. Mom was looking at him.

“Los atenta dana nosa reputa.” – Papa ia dise final. “Los atenta sabota la laboras per manteni nosa securia.”

“They’re trying to discredit us,” Dad said finally. “They’re trying to sabotage the efforts to keep us safe.”

Me ia abri mea boca, ma mea mama ia atrae mea oio e ia nega con testa. En loca, me ia asende a mea sala e ia labora a mea esajo de Kerouac. Cuando me ia oia du pumis de la porte, me ia comuta mea Xbox e ia entra enlinia.

I opened my mouth, but my mom caught my eye and shook her head. Instead I went up to my room and worked on my Kerouac paper. Once I’d heard the door slam twice, I fired up my Xbox and got online.

> Alo, M1k3y. Me es Colin Brown. Me es un produor per la program de novas La Nasional de la Corpora Difusante Canadian. Nos fa un reporta sur Rede X e ia envia un reportor a San Francisco per presenta lo de ala. Esce tu ta es interesada per fa un intervisa per discute tua grupo e sua atas?

> Hello M1k3y. This is Colin Brown. I’m a producer with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation’s news programme The National. We’re doing a story on Xnet and have sent a reporter to San Francisco to cover it from there. Would you be interested in doing an interview to discuss your group and its actions?

Me ia regarda fisada la scermo. Cristo. Los ia vole intervisa me sur “mea grupo”?

I stared at the screen. Jesus. They wanted to interview me about “my group”?

> Em, grasias, no. Me foca tota a privatia. E lo no es “mea grupo”. Ma grasias ce vos reporta!

> Um thanks no. I’m all about privacy. And it’s not “my group.” But thanks for doing the story!

Pos un minuto, un plu eposta.

A minute later, another email.

> Nos pote masci tu e serti tua anonimia. Tu sabe ce la Departe de Securia Interna va furni felis sua propre portavose. Me es interesada per oia tua lado.

> We can mask you and ensure your anonymity. You know that the Department of Homeland Security will be happy to provide their own spokesperson. I’m interested in getting your side.

Me ia arcivi la eposta. El ia dise coreta, ma me ta es demente si me ta fa lo. Cuanto me ia sabe, el ia es la Departe de Securia Interna.

I filed the email. He was right, but I’d be crazy to do this. For all I knew, he was the DHS.

Me ia prende plu de Kerouac. Un plu eposta ia ariva. La mesma solisita, un otra ajenteria de novas: KQED ia vole encontra me e rejistra un intervisa per radio. Un canal en Brasil. La Corpora Difusante Australian. Deutsche Welle. Tra tota la dia, la solisitas jornaliste ia ariva. Tra tota la dia, me ia refusa cortes los.

I picked up more Kerouac. Another email came in. Same request, different news-agency: KQED wanted to meet me and record a radio interview. A station in Brazil. The Australian Broadcasting Corporation. Deutsche Welle. All day, the press requests came in. All day, I politely turned them down.

Me no ia leje multe de Kerouac en acel dia.

I didn’t get much Kerouac read that day.

“Fa un confere jornaliste.” – es lo cual Anj ia dise cuando nos ia senta en la caferia prosima a sua casa en acel sera. Me no ia es tan zelosa per viaja a sua scola aora, per es denova trapida en un bus con Van.

“Hold a press-conference,” is what Ange said, as we sat in the cafe near her place that evening. I wasn’t keen on going out to her school anymore, getting stuck on a bus with Van again.

“Como? Tu es fol?”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“Fa lo en Ruba Enrolada. Eleje simple un mercato do on no permete JcJ e nomi un ora. Tu pote entra de asi.”

“Do it in Clockwork Plunder. Just pick a trading post where there’s no PvP allowed and name a time. You can login from here.”

JcJ es la combate de juor contra juor. Partes de Ruba Enrolada ia es teritorio neutra, tal ce teorial nos ta pote introdui un monton de avietas jornaliste sin es ansiosa ce juores va mata los a media de la confere.

PvP is player-versus-player combat. Parts of Clockwork Plunder were neutral ground, which meant that we could theoretically bring in a ton of noob reporters without worrying about gamers killing them in the middle of the press-conference.

“Me sabe no cosa sur conferes jornaliste.”

“I don’t know anything about press conferences.”

“Ma gugli mera. Me es serta ce algun ia scrive ja un article sur metodos susedosa per organiza los. Me vole dise, si la Presidente pote fa lo, serta ance tu. El pare como si el pote apena lia sua sapatos sin aida.”

“Oh, just google it. I’m sure someone’s written an article on holding a successful one. I mean, if the President can manage it, I’m sure you can. He looks like he can barely tie his shoes without help.”

Nos ia comanda plu cafe.

We ordered more coffee.

“Tu es un fem multe saja.” – me ia dise.

“You are a very smart woman,” I said.

“E me es bela.” – el ia dise.

“And I’m beautiful,” she said.

“Tal ance.” – me ia dise.

“That too,” I said.