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FICTION FICTION
Interlude: "Itty Bitty Bigger World: The Last War"
In a long life, you see a lot of things.
In 2040, there had been a brief kerfluffle between Kurdistan and Iran about borders. Iranian troops mobilized. Kurdistani militia also mobilized. The Cairo Protocol was being tested, big time - even though both nations were Treaty signatories.
The United Nations sent a company of battlesuits. The various Treaty Powers sent observers. The Russian akademia numbered in the thousands ... not technically combatants, they were "academics" and "observers" who just happened to be wearing powered exoskeletons and have 3D extruders immediately at hand. (Press the "print" key and you have the actual weapons.) Understandable ... too much history, too near their territory.
The Iranians were posturing and threatening and making big noises. Everyone else was worried. Iran was known, just like every other power in the world, to have a vast capability to generate N-bombs, H-bombs, chemical weapons, biologicals, info and nano viruses ... even F-bombs if one could get them past their own internal censors.
The world media obviously made a huge deal out of it. All sides welcomed tourists but refused to guarantee their safety.
So I had taken my backpack and hopped a couple transcontinental shuttles, then hitched rides to Kurdistan to see the mess for myself. I was in a wanderlust phase of my life, having narrowly escaped death several times during the Great Quake. I wanted to see what I could see, and I figured that either I would see the "next war" or something would happen to prevent it.
I was right.
Iranian exoskeletal troops were walking near the border. "Pash" militia were watching warily, gyrolaunchers over their shoulders in deep trenches which provided essentially no protection.
The Kurds also had doomsday devices, just like the Iranians and everyone else. Note the tense.
The UN battlesuits had spread out (on Kurdish soil) to form a thin blue line of heads (it's a thing with UN troops, blue heads) between the two would-be combatants.
The Iranian troops, the Immortals ... really, that was the unit designation, going back thousands of years to ancient Persia ... kept walking up to the line, stopping, walking back. For all the world like kids playing at dares.
But all the world was watching intently, because this was the first big test of whether the Cairo Protocol would actually work.
The Kurds weren't going to start anything. They knew that their national survival was at stake, but that it was better to have the Iranians for enemies and the world for your allies than the entire world combined in arms, all after _you_. The Kurds had been there and done that, thanks but no thanks.
I watched from a hilltop using powered binoculars and holding a Pepsi (this was back in the days when it was still hard to get a Coke in the Middle East; it's a religious thing) and eating popcorn. Literally. Of course, I had a deep hole dug nearby and was wearing a smartcloth jumpsuit, not being totally insane.
I shared the hilltop with various news media, both major networks (including such archaic organizations as MSCNN and BCD) and stringers hoping to sell some good footage. A couple people had asked my media affiliation and eventually stopped asking when I ignored them for long enough. This wasn't San San and privacy protocols had no force here, but I simply didn't feel like talking.
Protocol Agents were out in force. We just didn't realize it.
Then, suddenly, one of the Iranian troops surrounded by several others made a arm sweeping gesture and crossed The Line into Kurdistan. His soldiers followed.
The Kurdistani soldiers tensed but held their fire. One of them, I found out later, made a single phone call to Protocol Enforcement. The call lasted about ten seconds. "Hi, Josh, yeah, they did it. We object."
The UN battlesuited troopers just watched.
The Iranian officer activated his loudspeaker and started calling out in Farsi. Then the loudspeaker cut out with a SCREECH that made people wince for miles.
His armor fell over in place, and thudded as fallen trees do.
Inside, he was deader than a doornail, for no apparent reason.
The UN battlesuits made a brief announcement in French. "Attention s'il vous plaît. Troupes nationales doivent rester dans leurs nations respectives. Les intrusions se traduira par l'usage de la force meurtrière. Merci. Par courtoisie, troupes nationales sont priés de s'abstenir de toute action qui n'est pas clairement l'auto-défense. Votre collaboration est grandement appréciée." Then several of them took off their helmets and fiddled with them, to no avail.
Turned out later that the UN suits had been hacked.
Feel free to get a translation for yourself. The short version is that Protocol Enforcement had killed the Iranian invader and offered to kill whoever next crossed the border.
The surviving Iranian troops ran for their side of the line. They made it.
Another Iranian officer shouted and screeched at them, leveled his plasma rifle, and fanned it across them. It didn't work.
Their rifles didn't work either, but that didn't keep his would-be victims from beating him to death with the butts. Because he was in armor, it took a while -- but because they outnumbered him twenty to one, they managed it. Then they tossed their bloodied useless rifles to the side and started walking home.
Thus started the Iranian Revolution and ended the Last War. Number of casualties in the War: two. Number of casualties in the Revolution: about eight thousand.
Interlude: "Itty Bitty Bigger World: The Last War"
In a long life, you see a lot of things.
In 2040, there had been a brief kerfluffle between Kurdistan and Iran about borders. Iranian troops mobilized. Kurdistani militia also mobilized. The Cairo Protocol was being tested, big time - even though both nations were Treaty signatories.
The United Nations sent a company of battlesuits. The various Treaty Powers sent observers. The Russian akademia numbered in the thousands ... not technically combatants, they were "academics" and "observers" who just happened to be wearing powered exoskeletons and have 3D extruders immediately at hand. (Press the "print" key and you have the actual weapons.) Understandable ... too much history, too near their territory.
The Iranians were posturing and threatening and making big noises. Everyone else was worried. Iran was known, just like every other power in the world, to have a vast capability to generate N-bombs, H-bombs, chemical weapons, biologicals, info and nano viruses ... even F-bombs if one could get them past their own internal censors.
The world media obviously made a huge deal out of it. All sides welcomed tourists but refused to guarantee their safety.
So I had taken my backpack and hopped a couple transcontinental shuttles, then hitched rides to Kurdistan to see the mess for myself. I was in a wanderlust phase of my life, having narrowly escaped death several times during the Great Quake. I wanted to see what I could see, and I figured that either I would see the "next war" or something would happen to prevent it.
I was right.
Iranian exoskeletal troops were walking near the border. "Pash" militia were watching warily, gyrolaunchers over their shoulders in deep trenches which provided essentially no protection.
The Kurds also had doomsday devices, just like the Iranians and everyone else. Note the tense.
The UN battlesuits had spread out (on Kurdish soil) to form a thin blue line of heads (it's a thing with UN troops, blue heads) between the two would-be combatants.
The Iranian troops, the Immortals ... really, that was the unit designation, going back thousands of years to ancient Persia ... kept walking up to the line, stopping, walking back. For all the world like kids playing at dares.
But all the world was watching intently, because this was the first big test of whether the Cairo Protocol would actually work.
The Kurds weren't going to start anything. They knew that their national survival was at stake, but that it was better to have the Iranians for enemies and the world for your allies than the entire world combined in arms, all after _you_. The Kurds had been there and done that, thanks but no thanks.
I watched from a hilltop using powered binoculars and holding a Pepsi (this was back in the days when it was still hard to get a Coke in the Middle East; it's a religious thing) and eating popcorn. Literally. Of course, I had a deep hole dug nearby and was wearing a smartcloth jumpsuit, not being totally insane.
I shared the hilltop with various news media, both major networks (including such archaic organizations as MSCNN and BCD) and stringers hoping to sell some good footage. A couple people had asked my media affiliation and eventually stopped asking when I ignored them for long enough. This wasn't San San and privacy protocols had no force here, but I simply didn't feel like talking.
Protocol Agents were out in force. We just didn't realize it.
Then, suddenly, one of the Iranian troops surrounded by several others made a arm sweeping gesture and crossed The Line into Kurdistan. His soldiers followed.
The Kurdistani soldiers tensed but held their fire. One of them, I found out later, made a single phone call to Protocol Enforcement. The call lasted about ten seconds. "Hi, Josh, yeah, they did it. We object."
The UN battlesuited troopers just watched.
The Iranian officer activated his loudspeaker and started calling out in Farsi. Then the loudspeaker cut out with a SCREECH that made people wince for miles.
His armor fell over in place, and thudded as fallen trees do.
Inside, he was deader than a doornail, for no apparent reason.
The UN battlesuits made a brief announcement in French. "Attention s'il vous plaît. Troupes nationales doivent rester dans leurs nations respectives. Les intrusions se traduira par l'usage de la force meurtrière. Merci. Par courtoisie, troupes nationales sont priés de s'abstenir de toute action qui n'est pas clairement l'auto-défense. Votre collaboration est grandement appréciée." Then several of them took off their helmets and fiddled with them, to no avail.
Turned out later that the UN suits had been hacked.
Feel free to get a translation for yourself. The short version is that Protocol Enforcement had killed the Iranian invader and offered to kill whoever next crossed the border.
The surviving Iranian troops ran for their side of the line. They made it.
Another Iranian officer shouted and screeched at them, leveled his plasma rifle, and fanned it across them. It didn't work.
Their rifles didn't work either, but that didn't keep his would-be victims from beating him to death with the butts. Because he was in armor, it took a while -- but because they outnumbered him twenty to one, they managed it. Then they tossed their bloodied useless rifles to the side and started walking home.
Thus started the Iranian Revolution and ended the Last War. Number of casualties in the War: two. Number of casualties in the Revolution: about eight thousand.
