This Fractured Nation

This Fractured Nation. A story about personal loss, espionage, and the rise of familiar heroes in new situations. Our story is told during a fictional WW2 in a world where there was no victor in the American Civil War.

The following shorts offer a glimpse into the past and future of This Fractured Nation.

The Mad King of Texas

A Story of This Fractured Nation

By Louis Cruz Jr

Dallas, Texas

December 31, 1899

Close to Midnight

The streets are mostly dark, besides the few thoroughfares fitted with gas lights. The new oil fields to the east of the city give the horizon an eerie orange glow. In the center of the city a large crowd has gathered to celebrate a new year. A new century, the 20th Century. Toasts are being made, strangers are meeting for the first time. Young couples are sneaking away to explore each other for the first time. Children dart amongst the crowd playing games of tag. Elderly people cry on each others shoulders, remember times long gone and old friends lost.

If one were to scan the crowd, on the edges of the crowd, where the numbers start to thin. That is where he is right now, on this night.

The Mad King of Texas.

“We would be living und...under...under the...horr..horrib...horrid rule of that confederate ppp...pppp...pprrr...ppprrrick...prick, we could never have a...have...have a cele...celebra...celebration like this!”

His watery, red eyes are set on a statue in the center of the park as he begins to drunkenly stumble into the crowd. A child, having taken pity on him, shyly walks up and gives him a cup of water and a piece of candy. The Mad King smiles kindly down at the small boy and pats him on the head.

“Th...Tha..Thank you, so..sonn...sonny.”

He drinks the water down in one long gulp and pops the piece of candy in his mouth, biting down hard and crunching it slowly before swallowing it. The Mad King reaches down and pats the small boy on the head once more and then moves on into the crowd. A few steps and many stumbles later a laughing couple pass the Mad Kind a bottle of red wine. Laughing and beaming with joy he grabs the neck of the bottle takes a long draw and carries on clutching the bottle to his chest.

“Fittin’ gifts fer a heero,” he begins to say, suddenly his speach is clearer, the stuttering and slurring replaced by a slow Texas drawl. “Nowa, as ah wus sayun’ beefor I was so politely interrupted.”

The Mad King puts his arm around the shoulders of a stranger. Easily pulling the startled man closer, gripping him tightly. Using the hand still gripping the wine bottle he gestures toward the statue, much closer now than before. With an insane gleam in his eyes and a mad smile curling his lips he begins to should loudly.

“Behold!! The Heroic Martyr, founding father of this great Independent Nation of Texas!!!” He lets go of the stranger, throwing him to the ground. The Mad King whirls around in a frenzy, pointing, screaming

“WOULD ANY OF YOU RECOGNIZE HIM IF HE WERE AMONG YOU???”

Every child in Texas is told stories of the Heroic Martyr, Leander H. McNelly. He led the forces of the the Texas Rangers in the war for Texan independence. At the first battle of Baton Rouge, in 1877 he was declared MIA and thought to have been killed or captured. The Rangers rallied around their believed fallen leader, took back the city, and won their independence in 1878. Never knowing the truth.

McNelly had in fact been captured. After several years of mind and body breaking torture at the hands of the Confederates, they just let him go. Mostly feeble minded and physically a shell of his former self he wandered the South for years. His path, always meandering and full of backtracking, slowly took him west, home, to Texas. Being a free country, upon reaching Dallas, he was easily able to assimilate into the role of homeless drunken mad man. He would tell anyone in earshot about who he was, what he had done, where he had been, begging for help, begging to be recognized. Here in Dallas he spent most of his days and nights sitting under a statue of himself, telling his story, panhandling for booze and food.

Tonight, on this joyous occasion, the crowd makes it difficult to reach his destination, but he is determined to sit beneath the statue of himself as the clock turns over a new century for the nation that he was so proud of.

“Would any of you…”

He is sobbing. Great moans that cut through the crowd noise so sharply that the people in front of him begin to move and clear a path for him. As he stumbles to the statue, kind strangers pat him on the back, steady him if he begins to fall, and say cheerful things to him hoping to lift his spirits. Finally reaching the statue. He pleads with the crowd one last time, to be recognized. To be seen

“NOW CAN Y’ALL SEE IT? CAN’T YOU SEE THAT IS ME UP THERE???”

He collapses. His labored breathing slows and finally stops.

************

Today. The memorial to the Heroic Martyr still stands, but at its base is another, smaller monument. You see, when the Mad King of Texas died there that night, they found out who he was, that he had been telling the truth the whole time, that he was truly the Heroic Martyr. It was decided that a memorial be placed in honor of who he had become. To help us remember to never make assumptions about people.

There is a plaque there. It reads….

“Here he died the Mad King of Texas, that much is true.

Our Heroic Martyr returned home

Broken of mind, spirit, and bone.

No one ever listened and no one ever knew.”

Welcome to the Pacific Republic

A Story of Founding.

Part of the Alternative History:

This Fractured Nation

By Louis Cruz Jr

1997, Launch Day.

“Welcome to the Pacific Republic. The Emerald of North America!”

At every border crossing, in every airport, this phrase is seen on billboards and signs. It is repeated every minute of every day by someone greeting first time visitors to the independent and neutral nation of the Pacific Republic. This great nation, the richest of the four countries that take up the space between Canada in the north and Mexico in the south, is about to launch its first mission to the moon. A momentous occasion, in a time of such occasions for the Pacific Republic. Three years earlier they had become the first nation in the world to elect a woman for president. Dianne Feinstein had ushered in an era of renewed scientific research with an end goal of sending a team to the moon to set up the beginnings of a colony. A decade earlier, during an unmanned mission, Pac Rep: Sci, the science and research branch of the Pacific Republic’s government, had discovered a vast mineral deposit on the far side of the moon and landed a probe, declaring the discovery as property of the Pacific Republic and its peoples, while also committing to sharing the benefits with the world.

In every stadium, city and town square, restaurant, bar, and home the crowning achievement of a nation is being displayed. Reporters are gleaming with pride as they describe the day’s events. At the launch site, tens of thousands of citizens have gathered to celebrate and watch as the ship launches. Marching bands play, toasts are made, confetti and streamers float through the air. A stage with an empty podium has been erected, a laser and light show erupts from the stage in a fit of color as fog machines provide a medium for the lasers to refract and be seen, even in the full light of this bright and sunny day in Southern California.

The bands stop suddenly, and the laser show ends, as the fog drifts slowly off into the sky. The most powerful woman in the world walks onto the stage and approaches the podium to an eruption of applause. Wearing a look of proud triumph she thanks the gathered crowd and begins her speech.

“Friends around the world, my fellow citizens and I would like to say Welcome to the Pacific Republic: The Emerald of North America! Thank you all for joining us on this historic day as we begin what we hope will be a world unifying expansion to the stars for humanity.

These last few years and particularly today, I am reminded of our history. My thoughts wander to the few dozen men and women whose stark refusal to join in the violence of the terrible Eastern War and whose respect for and acceptance of the Aboriginal Americans led to the founding of our great nation. In the year 1862 when the Union and the Confederacy sent their recruiters west, when they came to the rockies they were both met with resistance. A resistance led by California Governor John G. Downey and Senator Leland Stanford, also of California. They worked with the western tribes, setting up and defending our borders and welcoming Aboriginals from the east, giving them salvation and a place to call home.

If I may, I would like to tell you all a story from that time. It was September 1st, 1861. Two months prior then Governor of California John G. Downey had received two letters, one from Abraham Lincoln, the President of the Union, and one from Jefferson Davis, the president of the Confederacy. The letter from Lincoln asked for help in the form of conscript soldiers. California’s population was rather young at the time and in war, you want the young to fight for you. Governor Downey refused to send his youth off to die. The letter from Davis asked for materials. Wood, food, building supplies, medical supplies, and any weaponry they had available. Downey deplored slavery, and vowed he would never assist the Confederacy, as he viewed them as a nation of slavers. He sent out two letters, asking to meet with Presidents Lincoln and Davis on September 1st in Denver. Governor Downey sent word to Senator Stanford and together they spent two months travelling the western states, meeting with citizens, gathering signatures, gathering support, holding town hall conferences. In the end Downey decided that if the presidents did indeed meet with him, he would help to make peace, if they merely sent representatives, he would leave them to their war and declare the borders and independence of the Pacific Republic and First Nations. As it turned out on that day, the north and south sent delegates who were met with defiance and our proud nation was born.

With a foundation of acceptance, liberty, and neutrality, the decades that followed were prosperous. A new renaissance had begun. Scientific research led to advancements in medicine, energy, and food production. Our brilliant men and women at Pac Rep:SCI have invented and revolutionized the collection of energy from the wind, and from the movement of water. Cured diseases once thought to have no cure. They have implemented techniques for growing fruits and vegetables indoors that ensure that none go hungry.

As the world moved once again toward the horror and violence of war, our advancements made us a most sought after ally, and also a target. However, we remained steadfast in our principles of nonviolence. Our 100% volunteer army protected our borders through the first world war. They fought bravely at the Battle of Kansas City and the dirigible fleet of the CRA was defeated. Our president at the time, George A. Carlson, flew to Atlanta to present terms of peace to John M. Slaton, then president of the confederates. Seeing the results of the attempted invasion and fearing more losses President Slaton begrudgingly accepted the terms. We could continue to live in peace. For a time.

It wouldn’t be too long before, once again war would stir, and once again, we had a target firmly planted on our backs. Once again, we remained dedicated to our neutrality. This time however, it would be our neighbors to the north who would protect our borders. It was learned that the great and mighty Japanese fleet had set its eyes on the Hawaiian Islands, with the intention of launching an assault on Los Angeles after taking the islands. However, they were met by the even greater and mightier Western Naval Fleet and Royal Air Command of the Canadian Royal Military. Our borders to the east were never threatened and peace was maintained even as the world around us toiled and felt the full impact of a devastating war. We also continued our tradition of taking in refugees and offering salvation and asylum from the horrors of war. The end of the second world war saw our leadership play a diplomatic role. Our ambassadors took the lead and helped the NADU and the CRA combine their governments, a process still being worked out to this day.

Throughout the history of this great nation, we have been progressive innovators, compassionate shelter providers, and dedicated peacemakers. This rich history is on full display today. For today, after years of collaboration from the international community, we stand on the precipice of our first expansion into space.”

A group of 32 men and women join the president on the stage, she pauses and her words trail off as the crowd erupts into deafening applause. The 32 men and women wear jumpsuits made of soft cotton, dyed dark green and sky blue to match the Pacific Republic and First Nations flag. Their launch suits had been hung for them on the disc shaped vessel awaiting take off as one of the many preparations made in the days and hours before its first flight. The launch suits were designed to protect their bodies from the pressure of the extreme high velocity that would be reached as they broke the surface of the atmospheric plain. The Von Braun Anti Gravity Propulsion system could travel at speeds at 99/100ths the speed of light, it would reach the moon in a matter of minutes and without their suits the crew of the Emerald would be crushed. President Feinstein signals for the crowd to settle down and continues her speech.

“These brave adventurers from around the world stand here on this planet today, and later on this very same day, will step out of the Emerald One and onto the Moon. A place that they will call home for the next year. A place where they will establish our first non terrestrial colony. While the trip itself will be short, thanks to our tremendous advancements in propulsion, their memories of the time that they established the Pac Rep:Sci International Science and Space Research Moonbase will last a lifetime!!! On behalf of our nation, and the citizens of this planet, I would like to extend my appreciation for your sacrifice and dedication to helping humanity reach new heights, both literally and figuratively. History will smile upon you all. You are true heroes for all of humanity. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!!!”

The President hangs back as the crew of the Emerald evacuates the stage to make their way to the oval disc shaped craft. She watches in appreciation as the crew boards the ship. The solar powered charter bus that had been converted into her mobile command center for events such as today is parked just behind the stage. She takes off her shoes as she boards and makes her way to long bench couch that circles the front area. A screen descends from the ceiling and the President turns her full attention to the screen which is split into four scenes, the top left showing the mission control room located on the top floor of the only building at the facility, the top right showing the gathered crowd celebrating, the bottom left is a shot of the ship from a balcony on the building, and the bottom right is a shot of the control room of the ship itself. All around her aides and interns buzz about making sure the president’s needs are being met. She accepts a glass of champagne as the final countdown begins.

The world holds its collective breath as the disc wobbles into the air and hovers for a frightening long moment, Tittering and tottering like a plate being balanced on a pool cue. It seems as if the ship could fall back to the earth when finally it stabilizes and upon stabilization streaks away into the sky disappearing from sight in just a few short minutes.

By Louis Cruz Jr

My Daddy: A This Fractured Nation short.

A 4th Grade Report

By Saddie Mae Jenkins,

Child Citizen of the Confederate Republic of America

October 13, 1910

"My Daddy

My Daddy is a big strong man. He works hard in the field all day. Sometimes he's gotta beat the slaves to make em work. My Daddy uses his whip, sometimes he uses a big stick. Once, my daddy even had to shoot one of th' run-a-ways, usually they just catch em, and hang em. My Daddy says that he feels like a slave sometimes. He says his boss is really mean and yells at him a whole lot. One time that meanie beat him up and poured garbage all over him!

My Daddy likes to drink. He likes to drink when he wakes up in th' mornin'. He likes to drink when he gets off of work at the bar with his drinkin buddies. He likes to drink when he gets home. That's when he hits Mommy and yells at us kids cause we ain’t good enough. Daddy says I'm slow, so I get bad grades. Mommy's ugly now cause she got old and had too many babies. So I guess we deserve it!

My Daddy says someday the South will rise and take over the land. He says that someday we’s gonna gather up an army and take all of the North and take Texas back, and then take all the land, all the way to California!

My Daddy loves me. He puts food on my plate. He keeps a roof over my head. He puts clothes on my back. If it wersn’t for my Daddy, I wouldn’t even be here!"

The little girl stops reading from her paper and lowers it from her face revealing a big smile and a black eye. She hands in her paper and sits down. Saddie stares out of the window for the rest of the class. The teacher hands the graded papers back to the class. Saddie's paper has a C- written on the top, along with "Good Job, Saddie Mae!"

Saddie Mae walks home. She proudly presents her paper to her mother who hangs it on the refrigerator. When her father gets home and sees it, his face sours. He spends an hour screaming about how much of a drunken fool it made him look like. As his anger rises to a crescendo, he grabs his whip and chokes the life out of poor little Saddie Mae.