Prosperous Kannex

The Kannexan Reich is at peace. Fifty years have passed since the Second Kannexan Civil War, when Emperor Franz returned from exile to a fragmented country and restored the Niemza Dynasty to power. Hardly anybody remembers the strife, the toil, the utter devastation that befell the country in the old days. Those brave men and women who suffered through it all, who fought and starved and watched their families and friends die, are now shut away in nursing homes. Those who know better are trapped in a quick-paced world of digital numbers and metal skyscrapers. The youth of today, they say, only care about money -- and little else.

"Kannex prospers," the adults always say. It's one of those phrases that the government likes to paint on concrete walls, or place on billboards right next to advertisements for real estate. Like other weekly 'motivational phrases' from the government, it is always written in both of the Empire's official languages: first in the round German letters that flow across the billboard, and then in sharp, tree-like Mandarin characters. It took a while before Min-dschu could read the Mandarin characters -- to her, they looked like box-shaped beasts with strange heads and feet made of black ink.

When Min-dschu was little, she thought the phrase meant that now everybody could have computers and cell phones. Her parents had said it wasn't until the Niemza Dynasty took power that they could have all these luxuries. Uncle Schëngli first bought a cell phone for his overseas business trips, and soon her own father and mother were holding little beeping pieces of metal to their ears and making phone calls to relatives and coworkers. But Min-dschu's secondary school teacher said this wasn't what "Kannex prospers" meant.

"Can you imagine what would have happened, if His Majesty Emperor Franz hadn't saved this country back in 1955?" the teacher asked the class, twirling a wooden meter stick in his hands. The children shook their heads and sealed their lips -- surely this was another trap. They watched as the teacher strolled up to the front of the class, where a portrait of the current Emperor Karl, son of Emperor Franz, hung above the blackboard. Emperor Karl von Niemza exuded a radiant smile with his perfect white teeth, as if to exhort his subjects to study and work hard for the good of the Empire. He was said to be 60-something years of age, but still possessed no wrinkles on his face and a head full of lush black hair.

Beside the portrait of the Kaiser, a smaller frame held the picture of a less handsome man with gray hair and a thin mustache, about the same age as the Kaiser. Duke Wilhelm von Niemza, close cousin to the Kaiser and his right-hand man. When the Kaiser commanded, he obeyed. Wilhelm held a spot high in the government, close to the Emperor. No one really knew what his job was, but no one questioned why he was there. People said he was the second most powerful man in the Empire. Every morning the students stood and saluted the two portraits, reciting words of undying allegiance to the Empire.

"We would have chaos. Just imagine," the teacher began, whacking his desk with the stick to punctuate his point, "having no food, no home. Imagine you had to live on the street, barely being able to survive. Imagine there was no God above Kannex, and all heaven and earth were in disarray, and people acted like wild beasts and hunted each other like prey. Imagine all family ties dissolved, and a father didn't recognize his sons while the sons didn't recognize their father. That -- " He paused, leaning forward, and pointed at no one in particular. " -- is what would happen if His Majesty hadn't returned and saved this country."

"Sounds a bit excessive, don't you think?" whispered the girl next to Min-dschu. Min-dschu didn't dare respond or even glance her way, because she soon caught the teacher's eye.

"And so," the teacher continued, "'Kannex prospers,' because without the Emperor, there is no Empire, and without the Empire, there is no prosperity." He glanced at the book on his desk. "Now, turn to page 35 in your book, please."

Min-dschu's elder brother went to college in a big city, but had returned home for the summer break. He spent his days eating off their parents, spending money in the arcade hall, and burying his nose in the magazines as if he were an adult. When Min-dschu finished telling him about what the teacher said, he shook his head and laughed. "The Emperor's only a man, Min. It's not like he's a superhero or something. Your teacher's being stupid."

"Well, I'm glad at least family ties still exist in this country. I like recognizing my father and my father recognizing me," Min-dschu countered, turning away with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Superhero or not, I wouldn't want to live in a country where people acted like wild beasts."

That night, fireworks lit up the sky to welcome the new season, their brightness blocking out the stars. The surface of the bay mirrored the celebratory sky, so that red and green fire seemed to dance on the silver surface of the water. A cool summer breeze flowed into the room as Min-dschu watched from her open window. A few more weeks, and the school year would be over. Then she would have the freedom to stay in her house all day lazily, like her brother.

---

The next morning, the white hot sun shone in the sky, casting an oppressive swelter even inside the school auditorium where the entire school had gathered. All the teachers were lined up at the sides of the large space, fanning themselves and joking and cursing the broken air conditioner under their breaths. The students in turn cursed the teachers under their breaths, who were making them sit in straight rows of foldable chairs in an unbelievably hot, humid room. The chatter did not die down before the headmaster, a pudgy gray-haired man in a brown suit, made brisk steps towards the podium at the center of the stage and took the microphone into his hand. Placing on his glasses, he read aloud the paper in front of him.

"Good morning..."

This is another one of the headmaster's pep talks, right?
It probably is. Probably gonna talk about respecting our elders or somethin'.

"... ladies and gentlemen, children..."

I bet you it's probably got to do with the cigarettes found in the bathrooms.
Or maybe they found out who blew up the toilets last semester. Someone's getting expelled.

"... I have grave news to impart."

What, wasn't that you?
Shhhhh, quiet -- !

The headmaster's body became stiff and his voice monotone as he read the next few lines. His eyes widened at the paper in his hands. He paused before continuing.

"The traitor formerly known as Duke Wilhelm has died trying to escape to Plembobria... Duke Wilhelm betrayed the trust of His Majesty the Emperor, our dear ruler, and attempted to assassinate him. When this nefarious plot was discovered, Wilhelm attempted to flee across the border... As a matter of divine justice, the faithless coward crashed in Marieheim Province and forfeited his life."

The auditorium fell silent. The headmaster looked up, his hands shaking as he took off his glasses and scanned the room.

"I-It pleases me to report... that His Majesty Emperor Karl remains alive and healthy. Long live the Emperor."

Long live the Emperor.

---

"Crashed in Marieheim? Tried to assassinate the Emperor?!"
"His own cousin! The Emperor's right-hand man! How could he do that?"
"Are you sure you heard right? He said Wilhelm, right, Duke Wilhelm? The guy whose portrait is right next to the Emperor's?"
"I heard the teachers are gonna take them down. Only the portrait of His Majesty will be in the front of the classrooms now, and no one else."
"These are frightening times."
"What do you know about fear? Don't be so dramatic! You heard the news as well as I did. The traitor, he -- they said the traitor's dead! He tried to kill the Emperor, and now he's dead."
"Why would he betray his own cousin, the Emperor? It doesn't make any sense..."
"Are you saying the headmaster is lying?"
"I'd wager it'll be on the news this afternoon, if they're not messing with us. Someone's getting arrested if this is all just a big prank."
"Well, even the headmaster was surprised when he read it, wasn't he? Maybe the adults don't even know... "
"This... this doesn't seem normal," Min-dschu peeped, her voice barely above a whisper.

The afternoon sun beat down on the black asphalt of Highway 571. Exhaust-fuming cars slowed to a crawl behind one another, forming lines along paint-marked lanes. On the distant horizon one could see the little shining skyscrapers of the city rising up like steel fingers poking into the blue sky. Skyscrapers, the pride of every metropolis. Welcome to such-and-such city, read the signs, adding some cheesy lying motto like "How sweet it is!" or "Our trains always run on time!" Then, eight kilometers away from the city center and with engines still running and exhaust still fuming, the procession of wheeled metal ground to a complete halt.

Another day, another rush-hour traffic jam.

Already, workers in ragged denim overalls could be seen painting over the billboards. Images of that smiling grey-haired man with the thin mustache disappeared over the day; speech bubbles on posters praising the Emperor or the Army or exhorting patriotism and virtue were now left unattributed or erased all together, so that wet paint covered what was now too terrible, too infamous for the public to behold. But the dead man's memory stayed vividly alive in offices, workplaces, and universities across the country. People whispered in hushed Mandarin or German, piecing together what little information they heard.

My brother works for the city government, says they first heard the news three days ago.
So you're saying the duke has already been dead for three days?
You realize that the duke could have died a year ago and we still wouldn't have known.
Best not to talk too much, you don't want to get in trouble for spreading rumors around.

Never "Duke Wilhelm" and much less "Duke Wilhelm von Niemza." Always "the duke" or even "that man."

Kannexan social media platforms like Hwadu and Verbun were abuzz with speculation, but moderators deleted most of these posts within minutes. In the city of Manhatt alone, police had to knock on the door of no less than twelve users to inform that speculating about His Majesty the Emperor's death was, in fact, not appropriate for internet discourse. Yet most of the unwanted rumors subsided in the evening, as news channels broadcasted Emperor Karl's visit to the Army officer's academy in Sarnia Province. The camera panned to the young cadets who stood in formation below, dressed in matching blue dress uniforms and eyes glistening as they beheld their ruler. The cadets' faces displayed every race and ethnicity -- white, yellow, black, brown, mixed. But all greeted their Emperor the same way, roaring their adoration in unison as the Emperor waved from afar. Then the cadets, on cue, chanted their oath of loyalty to the Empire, swearing -- under the pain of death -- to never betray the Fatherland or the Emperor, the father of the fatherland. So help me God.

The Kaiser's appearance pacified the social media within the Empire, but the foreign social networks remained unbridled. Fluttr, along with a dozen other foreign websites, had been banned for several years now, for the simple reason that the Kannexan government could not control what was posted on them. 'Spiritual pornography' and 'foreign propaganda,' as well as run-of-the-mill computer viruses, were genuine concerns, according to the Ministry of Public Enlightenment. To protect the public welfare, the government had taken the proactive step of blocking such websites.

Yet websites like Fluttr remained available for the millions of Kannexans overseas. Nearly seventy years of political turmoil and repression had contributed to the diaspora communities of Kannexans in countries like Ceretis or Plembobria. German-, Mandarin-, and English-language news reports spread in abundance.




Across the Kannexan Empire, no less than a hundred people were taken in the middle of the night by the Security Service.

Uncle Schängli fascinated Min-dschu. He was a businessman, so he dressed up in a suit and wore gold-plated watches and went on business trips to faraway countries. Mother said that Schängli spent great deals of money only to look the part and wasn't really that rich, but Min-dschu didn't care. He would always buy toys and ice cream for Min-dschu and her brother whenever they went out.

Uncle Schängli -- his name literally meant "victory" -- had served with the Army in Pelhafor, but one wouldn't have guessed by the way he hugged the greasy bucket of popcorn close to his beer belly. Min-dschu's brother Wän sprawled on the other side of the couch, reaching over for the bucket of popcorn every few seconds as he stared at the television. Both men held a bottle of beer in their hands. Min-dschu squished herself between the two, popcorn kernels falling into strands of her black hair. "Uncle Schängli?"

"Hm?"

"Can we watch a movie? We can watch The Seven Warriors again, or maybe 300 Heroes, or one of those Ceretian movies you showed us? Or -- " Min-dschu paused, her eyes alit as she looked up at her uncle. "Could we watch... a scaryyyy movie?"

"Now, sweetheart, you got to choose a movie last time. Let your brother pick a movie this time, eh?"

"Huh?" Wän glanced at Uncle Schängli, then at Min. "Oh yeah, sure. We can watch Seven Warriors if you want, Min, but let's keep watching the news for a bit longer, alright? They're still talking about Duke Wilhelm."

The channel was a news station based in South Kannex. The young blonde reporter stared from the television screen, posture straight and hands folded at the desk in front of her. She was speaking rapid-fire German, too fast for Min-dschu to fully understand. But the news ticker and the tone of the woman's voice, serious and calm as she gazed into the camera, told the story well enough. The screen cut to a still image of the late Duke Wilhelm, his mouth wide open mid-speech and his arms flailing like a madman, as the reporter detailed the duke's unbridled lust for power; his hidden contempt for His Majesty the Emperor; his deepest, darkest sins; and his dastardly plans to betray the Empire to foreign powers. The government had apparently gathered all this information from Duke Wilhelm's diary and personal notes, in which he laid detailed plans for a coup d'etat against His Majesty Emperor Karl.

"It's a wonder that such a terrible and depraved man could ever become the Emperor's most trusted right-hand man!" exclaimed Wän, a hint of irony in his voice as he raised his bottle of beer to his lips. "One would've thought all the virtuous men in His Majesty's government would've noticed his depravity!"

"Uncle, why did Duke Wilhelm want to overthrow the Emperor?" Min-dschu asked, turning her head to Schängli.

Uncle Schängli forced a smile as he placed a hand on Min-dschu's head. "Well, Min... some people are just evil, with savage, wild hearts. There are some very bad people who want to destroy this Empire, and Duke Wilhelm was one of them. He tricked the Emperor into thinking he was a good man, when what he actually wanted was to kill him and seize power for himself -- "

"I don't remember hearing that, Uncle Schängli," Wän cut in from the other side. "They just said that Duke Wilhelm wanted to take power away from the Emperor, not replace him."

Uncle Schängli's lips curled downwards a degree. "Well, who else would he give the power to, once he took the power away from the Emperor?"

Wän grimaced and shrugged. "Maybe he wanted to give power to the people."

"The people?" Uncle Schängli scoffed. "You mean to Congress? Those old bumbling fools sit around collecting paychecks and getting fat. God knows what would happen if we put them in charge!"

"You know very well that our Congress does whatever Emperor Karl tells them to. It's not like we had a real Congress. We don't have a real government like they do in Plembobria or -- or Ceretis, or -- "

"What, are you taking lessons on real government from foreign countries now? On words that foreigners like to attack our country with, like -- like 'democracy,' or 'human rights'?"

"In foreign countries, the government stands for the will of the people, the will of the entire country... In foreign countries, people aren't afraid to speak their minds. They don't have the Security Service over in Ceretis or Nightsong, Min! They don't arrest you for saying what you think is right, either in your home or in public. The people -- the people! -- tell the government what to do, not the other way around!" Wän raised his chin, his flaming eyes staring into his uncle's death-cold glare. "And that's the way it should be, Uncle."

Min-dschu froze, her eyes darting between the two men. Uncle Schängli did not speak as he rose from the couch. His lips had formed into a taut scowl. He turned to Min-dschu and his voice was low, almost growling, "Min-dschu, your brother has had too much to drink. I think it's time both of you went to bed now."

-- ... "And in other news, to replace the traitorous Duke Wilhelm, His Majesty the Emperor has appointed Congressman Vinzenz Djiang to the position of Chancellor of the Reich. Chancellor Vinzenz Djiang gave a speech today in Manhatt, thanking His Majesty for such an honor and pledging to serve the Empire to the best of his abilities. Herr Chancellor Djiang hails from Perlbach Province..."

A handsome young man of Han descent appeared, giving a speech behind a podium. The Kannexan flag, the red-white-red with the yellow imperial star, flanked him on either side of the platform. His ink-black hair was combed back; his ready pearl-white smile made him look more like a model than a politician. Yet there he stood in a navy-blue suit. He gave his inaugural speech in fluent German, likely as a way to counterbalance his obvious Han ethnicity. "... And we will strive for closer economic, political, and cultural cooperation with our partners overseas, with foreign governments as well as with our compatriots in the Kannexan diaspora community... And no matter what, we will stand together, under God, united. Hwáng-dì wànsuì, dìgó wànsuí."