Manuscripts Burn


MANUSCRIPTS BURN

"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov

Hi, I'm horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

The Last War: Chapter 7

Bleda Khan stepped out onto the platform to massive cheering and applause from the minority of native Mongolians, and the majority of Chinese-turned-Mongolians. Bleda had ordered the museums searched for the ancestral robes and crown of the old Khans. He was now wearing royal clothes that Genghis Khan himself had once worn. They may not have been Bleda's birthright, but he had claimed the right.

The people demanded an Empire. They demanded an Emperor. They demanded power and glory for Mongolia. And Bleda offered it to them. "Jobs for Everyone" was one of Bleda's slogans. And it was true. There was no longer a bum on the street. Not a single Chinese immigrant was without work. He had closed the country's gates, but soon, when many had died in the war, he would open them again for an infinitely replenishing supply of reinforcements.

It had been three years since Mabus Bleda had ousted President Toghril. Surprisingly, there had been no civil war to speak of. The Chinese-turned-Mongolians had rallied to Bleda's call so fast the few advocates of democracy had been crushed under the sea of support for the Empire. So, for three years Bleda had been creating a war machine in preparation for his eventual imperialistic attacks. The military was busting at the seams with new volunteers, and so many others had gone to work building tanks and planes and ships and the most modern of war technology.

Bleda Khan waved the cheering down. Bleda could hardly see the throngs of people without his glasses, but his advisors had insisted. They said the people could not stand weakness in any form in their leader, even eyesight.

Luckily he did not need to read his speech. He knew it by heart, because it came from the heart. He truly believed the words that soon flew from his lips.

"The time has come," he said, "For Mongolia to take her rightful place as an Empire and as a super-power."

The crowd seemed ready to give birth to a great cheer, but Bleda aborted it with a wave of his hand.

"I am certain that this can be accomplished. Mongolia is the greatest country in the world, and we are the greatest people in the world. If we rally together, we could become the greatest Empire that ever was!"

Bleda allowed the people to cheer. Many of them held signs with pro-imperial and pro-Bleda slogans. Bleda found one of them very amusing, a pun which only made sense in Mongolian.

"The time has come for many things. The time has come to begin turning the gears which will put into motion the destiny of Mongolia. The time has come to set Mongolia on the path to imperial domination.

"No longer will Mongolia be a small, poorly populated, landlocked country. I swear to you this: when we are through, Mongolia will touch ocean on all sides! Millions, no, billions shall pay homage to us.

"The time has come for war. War is costly, but it is the only way. If we wish to drag ourselves out of this rut, we must make war. We must go north, to Russia. We must take that country first.

"We must go east to China. We have many thousands of us here now who are already Chinese. China was once a great and noble country. But the fools who ruled it - through no fault of it's people - ruined it. I feel very, very sad to say that China has fallen, but there is no use denying that it has. I know, however, that the Chinese people are not ruined, just relocated. What you lost because of fools, my friends, you will now regain. While you walked under the flag of your own country, your leaders raped you and took all you had. But under the flag of your adopted country, you shall take more than you ever dreamed! And I hope, that someday, you shall not think of this as a temporary place to live, but as your own home."

The native Mongolians showed their respect in silence. Every Chinese-turned-Mongolian in the crowd saluted Bleda. He could see many of them crying, tears of both sorrow from nostalgia and joy from looking forward.

"I salute you, my brothers and sisters."

And Bleda really meant it. He felt a sorrow down in his gut for these poor people. He genuinely wanted to help them.

"The time has come for Russia to fall first, then all of Asia. Then, my brethren, you shall retake your homeland. Yes, the time has come. Our time has come."

The Mongolian people cheered and cheered until their throats were dry. Bleda Khan had cemented his role of Emperor and supreme leader. His people would follow him anywhere. He wanted to lead them to glory.

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