Uranium Fist | Page 7

get,
as objective reporters we have a duty to report it, to share it, to spread
the word. Truth takes sides. To stand aside as an 'objective' observer is
to stand aside from the truth.
I knew all this, and yet I knew nothing. On Greyermede, I was taught
this lesson anew. The message was rammed home, and it changed me
forever. My life would never be the same again, just as those who
struggled around me would also never be the same.
The people sat around this table helped me to find myself, even as they
struggled to find themselves. Every one of them had risen together to
transform their world, and in the process had changed themselves.
Humanity unbound is a powerful force for change; together we can
shake the heavens and make the worlds anew.
WHEN the heavens first rumbled, however, I was elsewhere. On
Calisto, if memory serves me right, then Proxima. Greyermede was a
place I had never heard of. When it exploded, the entire galaxy
suddenly awoke to discover the importance of this relatively
prosperous, but quiet little colony.
I missed the beginning. Carter, Nkruma, Nidel and the others were to
take me back to that fateful beginning, and give a sense of what it was
like to be there. Taking out my recorder, I set it down on the table.
They all stared at it, as if the thing was a grenade that might go off at
any moment. In a way it was; a bomb of ideas waiting to detonate in
the collective human mind.
After an uncomfortable silence, they reluctantly began to talk.

Chapter 2

UNUSUALLY, Angela broke the silence first. "The morning after they
declared Martial Law, Firsthaven was a hive of activity," she said.
"We'd expected the city to be quiet, but when we walked through
Commerce Square during lunch, Colony House looked ready for a
siege, and by the looks of the crowd gathered outside, that's just what
was going on."
"What were they doing?" I asked.
"Not much, just standing around. It all looked so relaxed, though we
couldn't see a lot from across the square. Some of the crowd was
chanting and waving placards, but most of the people there were just
curious bystanders."
ANGELA paused, as if having second thoughts, or just to take stock.
She took a sip of water and then turned to face Nkruma. "Got any of
those going spare?"
He looked at the cigarette packet in his hand, and then silently offered
it to her. Once Angela took one of the cigarettes, he took one himself
and both lit up. When Angela exhaled the smoke in satisfaction, she
looked as though she'd needed a cigarette for some time.
"I'm supposed to be quitting," she said, glancing at the glowing tip and
shrugging. "But what the Hell?"
She took another long, thoughtful drag and continued with her tale.
"The crowd turned out to be journalists. They were protesting against
the media restrictions the Government imposed. There must have been
about fifty of them altogether. We could see the guards better now.
They were militiamen, and they seemed uneasy about the situation. I
don't think they knew what to do.
"'Dutton's attempt to control the media is a direct attempt to control
public thought,' one of the demonstrators yelled. 'He's trying to
monopolise debate and stamp out the desire for independence. But let
me tell you this - he won't succeed!"

"The crowd cheered.
"'I have letters of support from the union Federation, and from the
important opposition groups. They too are opposed to these media
restrictions, and support us in our campaign. They're all feeling the heel
of Colonial tyranny, but they are fighting on and are working to form a
multi-party committee to discuss the election of a -'
"A riot cop appeared from nowhere and grabbed the man in a headlock.
More black-clad cops swarmed through the crowd. Confusion erupted.
Screams echoed from the buildings. Angry shouts. People were
clubbed to the ground. It didn't matter if they were demonstrators or
passers by, the police smashed into them all. Others ran in panic.
"It didn't take long to smash the demonstration. We joined the last of
the stragglers in the run for safety."
"TRAFALGAR was little better," Nkruma said. "The militia was out on
the streets. We treated them warily. Nobody was sure about their
attitude towards independence, but I know that some people tried to
draw them out them in conversation. It wasn't something I could do; the
police are bad enough, but soldiers really scare me."
"What were you doing at the time?"
"Avoiding the police!" he laughed. "I'd been made redundant about
three months before all this happened. I had time on my hands, and in
the political