CENTRAL GOVERNMENT, OF WHICH I SPEAK SO harshly, is what replaced America's governing forces in Washington after the occupation began. But they really only serve as a board of advisors to one man: President of the Realm James Thompson.
See? cries Central Government, the Greek media. See? He is one of you! He is an American! We are not the tyrants you have made us out to be; we let you govern yourselves as you see fit! We promise equality, and we speak the truth!
No one mentions that James Thompson did not exist before 2013. And interestingly enough, the day of Thompson's appearance was also the day one Antony Bogris, Greek statesman, disappeared. Coincidence? I leave you to decide. Suffice to say Bogris and Thompson must have been related, for such a resemblance cannot be incidental, can it?
I'm telling this badly, I know. But I am a rebel, not a weaver of tales, and you will have to be content with my poor skills at storytelling. As head of the Resistance Archives, I am scribe and confessor of this ruined land. Perhaps my subject will lend greater strength to my words.
The Resistance, as I am sure you have gathered, is an underground network of rebels working to spread dissent among the lower classes -- the mostly American lower classes, I might add. It is an institution as old as the Greek America -- older, because while our leaders struggled frantically to plug the leaks in their wartime information system, the original rebels were gathering together, establishing strongholds around the country, stocking them with food and provisions and something far more valuable: the Archives.
Imagine a huge manmade cavern, stuffed to the ceiling with information in every form -- newspapers, diaries, radio transmissions, video news -- all amassed before the Greeks came, bringing with them their great disinformation campaign. This is our treasure -- our Archives -- our link to the pre-Greek America. It is stored here, in our Pennsylvania stronghold, where the caves have hidden us for more than two centuries. I was 'prentice to Barry Philips, the head of our Archives, when he was killed last year in an aborted raid on a Greek farm. Now I am head, though I am only seventeen years of age. While my peers learn guerilla tactics and practice their marksmanship with our rapidly dwindling supply of firearms, I pore over musty records in the Archives room.
And it was while examining an ancient newsreel -- filmed in the long-ago year of 2007 -- that I came across something that has set the entire Resistance on its head.
Perhaps five minutes of footage, pale and grainy with age. Cheering crowds, a parade, fireworks in the sky.
And an announcer's words.
It is these few words that have directed the entire Resistance to this point. For centuries we have been preparing for the Insurrection, for the final bloody battle that will decide once and for all the fate of America. And now it is coming together; tomorrow we move out. God willing, we will succeed.
That newsreel was of a holiday celebration, you see. A very important holiday, for those dead revelers as well as for us.
The announcer's voice is nearly lost beneath the roar of the crowd, but one part of his speech comes through loud and clear.
"What a beautiful Fourth of July celebration we have this year," he cries enthusiastically. "And what better way can we commemorate our country on this most glorious of holidays, the birth of our nation's freedom -- Independence Day!"
Now we have the focus for our thrust, our Insurrection. Now our plan is finally pulling together; we have set the date.
Today is the third of July. Tomorrow the Insurrection begins.
Tomorrow we throw off our shroud of secrecy and bring all our arms to bear against the enemy.
If we win, America will once more be a free nation, where equality and liberty reign.
If we lose...
It's no matter. Either way, on July 4, 2276, I will do something I have never done in my 17 years.
I will see the sun.
And god help me, under its light, we will make tomorrow
a celebration of Independence Day that the world will never forget.