(OOC: Telegram me if you want to have an observer participate in the thread, or "helping" either the spies or the resistance; priority will be given to those I've RPed with in the past or those from my region, but others are welcome too.)
October 19, 2016
Since re-emerging from its hiatus, Zwangzug's political and social institutions had been clicking along with more or less internal cohesion. It was still considered a highly democratic country, where intelligent citizens flourished and the environment was guarded. The government continued to provide a safety net for those who needed one, while maintaining transit lines to link the population together. A diversity of religious beliefs were expressed, and the book publishing industry gave voice to all kinds of opinions. While the country's connections to other cultural institutions had not been as reliable as they were in the past, the more isolationist age still allowed for a consistent association football league to thrive at home and abroad, with the Bassabook Old Boys runners-up in a recent Champions' Cup. A semblance of a national team had even coalesced in time to compete in--and win!--the Eagles' Cup quasi-invitational. Plus, with the recent resettling in the region of Forest, there was a hope that the country might have a place to stick around on a map with some like-minded neighbors for a while, setting aside the fact that its new western neighbors seemed to have faded away. It only begged one question.
What did you get the country that had everything for its tenth birthday?
A clever but dismissive takedown of the decimal system, praising instead either your favorite binary replacement or sighing about the impossibility of dating anything because of the nuances of time dilation? Traditional, if a little cynical.
A new flag? They already had one, after the hiatus.
A big old mountain? It had been done, thanks to some intriguing quid pro quo involving the national anthem of Caracasus.
An elaborate state dinner with diplomats from all over? Too formal.
A new anthem? Too high-commitment, see above standards.
Re-emergence into some of the aforementioned cultural hubs? Likewise.
A sentient robot who could plan their economy for them? This...had been attempted, and while more freedom seemed to be the reaction, Sal 9000 was still left to talk to itself every once in a while.
A reclassification into being considered "moderately economically free" by the World Assembly? It sounded like a joke. But after months and years of social democracy, international observers were finally willing to admit that some kind of economic miracle had taken place in recent times, and the experimentation was continuing to bear fruit. Not always ripe fruit, but fruit nonetheless. That very day, Zwangzug had been labeled a "New York Times Democracy." Perhaps it was just an aberration, but perhaps it was a sign of things to come.
And as for the ceremonies, Zwangzug had settled for a festive celebration in its capital, with subsidiary parties taking place across the country. That hadn't prevented various foreign dignitaries--and indignitaries--from showing up without invitation and just mingling in, but generally the mood was more "stately" than "national," as befitted the disunified peoples.
Since the grey times, every city had its own strange twist on the country's ancient tradition of "friendly competition," and delegates from plenty of them had been invited to show off their newly-discovered traditions. The Not-Particularly-Ancient-But-Highly-Honorable-Guild of Pyrotechnicians in Trink had been left in charge of the evening fireworks display, and rushed to put on a suitably stunning if not particularly patriotic performance, with colors blazing across the night skies and low-flying sparks causing spectators to ooh and ahh as they sailed precariously close to important government offices.
Maybe a little too close...
Seven members of Parliament watched in fear and excitement from their seats on the stage, huddled together as the light show continued on without interruption. Unbeknownst to the crowd around them, another divide had ruptured even the members of Parliament itself, a fission in the city that was just as insidious as LibCon versus ProgTrad ideologies, CCfoG devotees and LCAS hymnsingers, Ephesian FC partisans and fans of reasonable footballing formations. It was as consummate an insider/outsider divide as politics had witnessed, and in Zwischen, it went deep.
Faith in government had been one feature that had not quite been restored to its original highs after the return, not in the capital anyway. Oh, it was unlikely to think that they were able to keep a crackdown on anything too incriminating--the freedom of information requests hadn't turned up anything that bad, and guilt would out--but all the same, there were tricklings of doubt, that all was not quite as it seemed. With a few high-profile celebrities joining the quest for information, and willing to resort to increasingly risky protest behavior to obtain it, it seemed like the disaffected might have a case.
But perhaps they might have created their own worst enemies, as there were rumors that the government really had increased its "intelligence" capacities. Weren't those censuses awfully privacy-invading? And wasn't it Zwangzugian authority that had given other countries the moral justification to do the same? Maybe those friendly "bureau of information" technocrats weren't as benign as they seeemd.
The stakes--seven individuals stood grappling with the country's future. Siri Prasert, Eleazar Tolbert, Tara Matchesla, Pramoda Misra, Janice McFly, Isaac Salmier, and Virginia Tosla. Seven districts. Seven parties, and an independent. Four recruited dissidents, each in contact with their own cell but not knowing each others' identities. Three hardline loyalists, aware of each other.
One way or another, it would be an anniversary of historic proportions.
