Zulu Rules

[Samuel Johnson]

Zulu Rules

The Great Zulu President bent over in the cramped passageway as he led his 9-year-old grand-daughter down to her day school. “Grandpa, why do we have to live down here? When can we go up to the top?” Shaka beamed at the little girl, so headstrong and beautiful. “Little one, you know the reason – I have told it to you many times over.” He chuckled to himself as he remembered how she first pronounced the words as “newqueer bums.” But now she was older and her school teacher had just started teaching them about the horrors the Zulu nation faced on the surface of Earth.

He opened up the hatch and lifted her above the “knee-knockers” holding her for a moment and then gently placing her down on the floor as he had done ever since she could walk.

"I wish you would just tell it to me one more time. Pleeease?"

“Well, perhaps if your tutor does not mind – I can tell the story to you and your school mates today.”


A Humble People Meets the World

Shaka sat down on the wooden stump inside his modest palace and invited the Impi warrior chief to sit down across from him. “Tell me more, Mahala. What did this Pure-san look like?” The messenger described the tall Sailor who called himself Sinbad. Shaka’s brow furrowed and he dug his hands into the wood. His forefathers had prepared him for the day that others may come to the shores of Zululand and he wondered if he still had the time needed to fully secure his land. He knew deep in his heart that if he did not, the other countries would invade with their settlers and warriors. His promise to his father and his grandfather and indeed to his people to keep Zululand for the Zulus would be tragically broken.

True, the initial nature of his people was to seek new land and conquer the weak but after the early tribal wars had ended, the Zulus found that they were alone on a what they thought was a vast continent. They were happy chasing the game in the forests and harvesting the grapes in the hills. At first, they thought they might be the only people and that the blue-green oceans surrounding Zulu-land led to the ends of the Earth.

But foreign travelers would wash up on their shores with their tales of other peoples and Zulus fisherman would sometimes come back with stories describing great lands, fierce wars and cities filled with gardens and statues. They spoke of wondrous weapons and almost magical technologies far beyond the imagination of the Zulu wise men. Many of the Priests dismissed these as falshoods and for many years, the Zulus lived in peace alone in the universe. But the Shaka rulers waited and watched.

Shaka repeated the rules his father instilled in him. One, Zululand must remain Zululand. We must always create strong defenses for our coastal cities and protect our weak spots and important in-land cities. Two, we must learn how to harvest the grape for surely this is one thing the Gods had blessed us with. And Three, Zulus must hide their wealth, power and knowledge from those who might covet it. We must be humble to the world for we are poor in resources and people. Shaka knew that some of the land on his continent did not recognize the Zulu governance and still went out about their primitive ways – these lands would be key footholds for any invaders. So he ordered current production be halted and those cities bordering the hinterlands were to begin developing means to bring those heathen into our churches and places of learning so they might know and accept the great Zulu culture. Although he spent many anxious years waiting for an invasion, by the time the second convoy of ships showed up, Shaka's influence covered almost the entire continent and where they did not have total influence, he stationed his explorers and warriors until those areas were settled.
-------
Zuzu beamed with pride as she presented her Grandfather to the class. Although she had overheard some of her classmates repeating the grumbles of their parents over the “situation” (whatever that meant) she watched as their faces melted in reverence as the beloved President of the Zulus spun the tale of the Zulu’s humble history.

(continued)

[Samuel Johnson]

A Nasty Encounter

Shaka was nervous the entire week the brutish little Persian King came to visit Zululand. Despite the constant innuendo and slurs directed at the Zulu people, Shaka entertained the King with exciting (and titilating) harvest dances and many exhibitions by the great Impi warriors. Shaka introduced the Persian to the fine pleasures of Zulu wine and looked the other way when the Zulu servant girls climbed into his bed following his promises of silks and incense.

But on the last day of the King’s visit, Sinbad, who now served as interpretor, told Shaka that the Persians would expect the Zulus to provide to them all the Zulu maps and a yearly allotment of gold in order to maintain their "friendship". Shaka was insulted to the core and sent the King on his way with little more than a farewell not even thinking of the consequences or of the rule his grandfather had taught him - that is, to remain humble to the world in all our foreign affairs.

Several moons later, a Persian messenger appeared at the Zulu palace and announced that the Persian King had decreed the Zulus to be "a hostile and aggressive nation" and would be sending several ships full of Immortals to “protect” the Persian people from "further Zulu aggression." Shaka was incredulous at the bombasity of the Persians and their pompous demarche.

This was the Zulu’s first experience with inter-civilizational war and Shaka went back to the teachings of his own grandfather and prayed to his ancestor for guidance. Thereafter, he consulted with his military advisors and realized that while the Zulus might be able to fend off the Persians, they could not mount any sort of expedition. The Persians would just keep on sending their mighty Immortals until they had gained a foothold in Zululand.

Zulu resources were meager – only one source of Iron for his swordsmen existed in the whole continent! What would happen if that dried up? And even though they had discovered the means to train horses, they could not develop a viable stock to produce a force of horsemen. The shock of foreign invaders on Zulu soil might shake the people’s confidence to its core as the one thing the Zulus prided itself on was the pristine nature of their continent. Zululand for Zulus, or so the motto went. And so Shaka bowed to the Persian and paid him off with gold and maps before the Immortals ever arrived.

--------

The Zulu President (and ZuZu's grandfather) looked at the children in the dark steely compartment. For he wanted them to learn this lesson well -- who know what they would encounter in the years to come when they went above?

“Shaka, my ancestor, he was not stupid and kept his eye on the agreements with the Persians. He added a new rule to his Grandfather’s Zulu Principles: “Always honor your agreements with others but know much of whom you deal with.” This principle characterized the Zulus all throughout history for they made fair deals and kept their contracts and agreements.

And the world came to know the Zulus as a trustworthy, some would say naive, lot. "But remember the third rule of Zulu - we must always hide our knowledge, our thoughts and our ways ... so perhaps we aren't so naive or trustworthy after all." The Shaka President chuckled as he saw the children were half asleep. "Did I also say that the Zulu people appeared boring to the rest of the world" He turned to the tutor who said, "well, it is nap-time." But he did notice that ZuZu was still sitting on her cermonial mat, cross-legged and waiting for more of the Zulu story.

[civman2000]

nice start

[Samuel Johnson]

The Power of the Grape

In due time, the Zulus met the others they shared the world with: the headstrong and bloody-minded Aztecs, the arrogant Germans, the petulant Americans, the enigmatic Iroquois and the French. Out of all of them, the French treated the Zulus with greatest respect and became their closest friends. When the Zulus built their harbors, it was to the French they first sent a shipment of wine. In return, the French shared their world maps and sent their learned men over to the Zulu cities to teach them new ways to defend themselves and make money. Once the Zulus had world maps, they learned of other harbors where their ships could take their wine and pretty soon Zulu wine was coveted the world round.

The years progressed and the Zulus created a Republic and installed the Shaka as its President-Ruler. This Shaka learned a new Principle and that was the power of trade to maintain peace. So long as the wine flowed, the Zulu people were able to live modestly and build the things they needed to defend their continent. And the world for the most part ignored the Zulus and only spoke with the Zulu President to renegotiate the wine deliveries. In this way, the Zulus stayed out of the wars of the world and that was fine with most of the population. They built sprawling marketplaces in their cities and contemplated the Great Zulu Watcher in cathedrals.

But they watched and learned the ways of the other countries. Their historians studied how the powers had ganged up on Babylon long before Zulus had treated Sinbad the Sailor to his first glass of wine. They also now watched with horror as the Americans were punished for their overarching ambition. Almost every great power now marched towards Washington leaving death and destruction in their wake.

Always in the back of Shaka’s mind was the phrase his grandmother used, “there but for the grace of the Zulu Watcher and the protection of our Zulu Continent, go I.” He knew his Rule of Zululand would be a fine balancing act – building the forces he needed to defend the continent without alarming the other civilizations was always a top concern. Shaka also was frustrated of the inability of his people to compete with the others in building great wonders. But some of his advisors reminded him of the dratted Rules and suggested that having these Great Works in Zululand might cause others to covet our humble nation and so he shrugged it away.

But in his visits to Paris where the Pyramids and Hanging Gardens still stood from ancient times, Shaka learned how these wonders increased the capabilities of the people in learning and production. Now he coveted the description his scholars gave him of a Great Library where other scholars would come to study because of the books available and they would bring with them their own culture’s knowledge. His great thinkers envisioned classrooms where these scholars, ever so proud of their own technology, would happily teach Zulus all those secrets. Just having so many books from all around the world would also inspire Zulus to learn and teach. So, he hired many transcribers, trained teachers and sent Zulus out to acquire books. He hid his production of the Library as just another University but he was now afraid that production was going so well that he would soon have to show his hand to the other civilizations ...

[Samuel Johnson]

The Wine Must Flow or...The Persians Smell a Rat

Kenanu welcomed the group of diplomats to Hloblane. The Aztecan, Persian, French and German representatives eyes darted about the skyline seen from the terrace of the King’s Southern Palace. The Zulu foreign minister watched in delight as the Persian gasped at the great university being constructed across from the Palace.

“Why that is much larger than any of the schools we have built so far, Kenanu? And I see you already have many scholars scurrying about there with scrolls and books. Just what are you up to, Zulu-man?”

Kenanu swallowed his pride at the insulting tone of the Persian and smiled widely and faked a moronic stare at the diplomat, “Why Sir, our people thirst for knowledge and we believe that if we build a bigger university perhaps we will learn more.”

But the Persian knew better than this and smiled to himself. He knew Persia’s own “Great Library” would be completed much sooner than the Zulus. Let them waste their time. But he thought that these Zulus may not be as naïve and stupid as the others think.

Shaka strode into the room at this moment surprising even Kenanu who thought he was north tending to the great irrigation project. This President Shaka, descendent from the very first Shaka, beamed at the assembled. “My good friends from the foreign lands. How goes your great struggle against the Americans?” Shaka used the word “struggle” even though he knew it was anything but. The great powers were ganging up on the once powerful Americans and carving up their land and resources for their own greedy purposes. But he knew how to speak like a diplomat – his grandfather who first dealt with these foreigners learned this quickly enough in the years following the first contact with the Persians.

The French diplomat smiled broadly back at President Shaka and welcomed him with a hearty clasp around the shoulders and a kiss on both cheeks. “My friend, it is so good to see you. Our people love the new batch of red wine you have sent us and are busy creating new dishes to compliement its fruity but dry taste. We have named it Burgundy after one of our earlier tribes.”

The German diplomat rolled his eyes at the inanity of this Zulu clown but sucked in his gut and bowed to the Zulu leader. He could blow smoke as well as the French when he said, “Shaka, so good to see you. Our great Monarch extends his hand in everlasting peace.” Shaka smiled and thanked him for the "honor" he gave the humble Zulu people knowing full well how they treated their "friends", the Americans.

The Persian diplomat, however, remained unmoved not even glancing up from the window. He purred, “Hello Shaka, King of Zulu” and the other diplomats quietly tittered at the Persian's contemptible behaviour. But Shaka ignored the disrespect. “My friend, so good to see you. I notice you are enjoying the view. The Hloblane mountain range is perhaps my favorite place on our small and humble continent. Did you know we discovered a large vein of gold right there and our productive Zulu workers are even now carving large mines into the ground underneath?”

And indeed Mt. Kahira, named after the first Shaka’s wife, glowed like the gold it sheltered in the morning sun. The Persian just sneered.

Shaka ignored his silence, “So, I say again, how does it go against the Americans?” The small Aztec lady diplomat stood up on her toes and addressed Shaka: “Please join us in our quest to defend ourselves from the unjust Yanks, Shaka. Your Impis would provide a great addition to our crusade.” Shaka made a sad, disappointed face and gestured with his hands, “Alas, dear Priestess, our business here at home feeding our poor starving Zulus and my own need to tend to our rebels who threaten to riot in my cities precludes my ability to joint you in your worthy quest.”

The Persian now drew himself up and looked Shaka in the eye, “Yes, that is what I said you would say." He gestured dramatically at the other diplomats, "for the Zulus let others fight their battles for them.”

Shaka blinked his eyes in pseudo-dismay and turned to the sympathetic French diplomat for assistance. The wily French diplomat widened his eyes towards the Persian, “But Sir, I have seen for myself the starving Zulus and Shaka’s challenge here is great indeed. His people remain unhappy with their plight and ignorance and his small military is needed to keep them in line. We all know the Zulus do not maintain a Navy even though they are a maritime nation. As long as the wine continues to flow, France has no problem with Shaka’s isolationism.”

The Persian thought that perhaps he ought to teach the insolent French a lesson or two before claiming his nation’s right to the rather poor Zululand.

The German harrumphed in agreement for he did not see the value of creating another challenger, however weak they might be. Besides the Zulu wine cheered the German workers and aided in the constant quest to create more weapons of war. The Aztec diplomat just mumbled in the shadows apparently attending to her hourly prayers. They too valued the Zulu wine for it had become an intricate part of their religious ceremonies having long ago forsaken the human sacrifices.

-----
Grandfather Shaka turned to the children. “The evil Persians knew that Zulu could offer little in assistance to their unjust war against the Americans. Instead they wanted to find a way to get Shaka embroiled in the conflicts of the world. The Persians knew that if he could get Shaka involved, he could eventually present a dilemma that would force Zulu to betray the other countries. Then he would of course form an alliance as he had in the past against the Babylonians and Americans and annex Zululand. But my ancestor knew that so long as we supplied the others with our wine and kept our word, they had little reason to want to attack the Zulu.

Always remember, children of Zulu – “The wine must flow or the blood will.” Now, I grow tired – perhaps we shall continue tomorrow?

Grandfather took Zuzu’s hand and led her back to their living quarters. Zuzu was asking about the “outside” again. “Tell me again Grandpa, about the Sun.”…

[Samuel Johnson]

The "New" Way of Warfare

General Naka Ulundi from Zululand had been sent by the Shaka to the Central Continent to observe the Aztec war. He watched in fascination as the last of the Aztecan armies put up a final brave stand in their capital city. The combined might of the German calvaries Armies, the French artillery and the Persian mobile infantry had brought this once proud nation to its final destination and soon they would sadly pass into history like the Americans and Babylonians before them.

The Iroquois had suffered almost a similar fate as the Aztecs but at the last minute pleaded mercy with the Germans and the French. And so the Zulus took pity on the once-great Iroquois and traded knowledge and wine for some of their rapidly diminishing resources. But the Persians proved merciless once again and continued to press into Iroquois lands.

Naka had the historians check and he knew of no other time in history that the Zulus had been ahead of another nation in technology. He would have to discuss this with Shaka for trading technology seemed to violate the spirit of the Zulu Rules of hiding our knowledge.

Naka Ulundi were there as an invited guest of the French to observe the “new way” of warfare. It did not seem very new to Naka, though. The immense Armies of the Great Powers had turned the once pretty fields and plains of Aztecan to a wasteland of empty cities and villages. Most horrid were the streams of bedraggled refugees who escaped the shelling of the cities only to be captured by the Persian slavers. Anything that wasn't firmly rooted in the ground had been burned, plundered or sacked.

All throughout the former Aztecan and much of the Iroquois nation, a web of Persian colonies had quickly been established much to the consternation of the Germans and the French. Naka wondered why the Germans and French did not do anything about it. Did their lust for military conquest blind them to the behemoth they were creating with their Persian "ally"?

Although the French generals toasted their so-called brave allies nightly with the bottles of Zulu wine Ulundi had brought with him, he knew that they had past grievances with both the Germans and the Persians which would one day boil into full-blown conflict. He only hoped Zulus were miles away safe in their continent at the time.

As of now, the Germans were the second largest power in the world to the Persians but the French were quickly catching up. As usual, the Zulus were the weakest – well, correct that, Naka thought, we are soon to be the weakest once the Aztecan were vanquished.

And that was fine with Naka for he had studied and written about the secret Zulu Doctrine. Thanks to the trades with the French for oil, the Zulus had built a small but useful fleet of submarines and had been spying on the other nation’s Navies for the past decade. It had been Ulundi who had led the development of this Secret Service. "Subs" suited the Zulus fine for it hid from the others the size of the Navy.

Currently, the Zulus had only one strategic resource and that was the rubber found in the forests outside Zimbabwe. But their monopoly on fine wine and their good relations with nearly every country on the globe brought them the resources they needed to build modest capabilities. With the assured source of rubber, they had upgraded their defensive forces with infantry and had even put together several brigades of Marines and transports just in case they needed a show of force. The newly established railroads would ensure a strong defense if Zululand were attacked.

Those Marines were currently part of a secret mission headed to establish a settlement near the oil fields and coal mines in the former lands of the Iroquois. Ulundi hoped that the distraction of the Aztec war would provide his country the cover and time needed to establish their first city on the Central Continent. He had been receiving coded reports of the progress and all seemed to be going well. The hope was that once their influence had been established in the continent, the nearby Persian colonies, mostly populated by captured Iroquois slaves, would revolt and turn over the holdings to the Zulus.

What Naka Ulundi was most worried about, though, was the swift campaign the Persians were conducting against the Aztecs. If they finished this as quick as it looked, they would soon be sending out settlers and their dreaded mechanized infantry to dominate the rest of the conquered Iroquois lands. The Persians, quite frankly, had little use for Zulu wine and paid only a paltry amount for the grape compared to the rest of the world. Naka knew that it was in effect a tribute and it kept the Persians happy.

Ulundi knew that he would have to report that Aztecan was finished. With this, the Shaka President would go into negotiations with Germany for a Mutual Protection Pact. This was needed because in order to establish a settlement in the Iroquois nation, the Zulus would need a measure of protection from the threat of the Persians. Once again, they would make this deal with wine and their hoards of gold.

----
Shaka looked at the bright faces and wished that they could have known the same joys as he did playing in the forests of Zimbawe and running through the miles and miles of grape vines.

He was visibly tired and the school teacher piped up:

“So, in order to protect Zululand and her newly established colony, the Shaka at that time negotiated a pact with Germany to protect us from inevitable Persian aggression.

And for many years, we continued to live in peace. With the new colony, we became less dependent on other countries for oil and coal.

President Shake interrupted the tutor and rose again to speak. His eyebrow arched for he knew the biggest lesson was soon coming.

"Then one day our scientists found a use for the element of uranium. We should never forget that uranium is both a blessing and a curse. Tell me some of the things that uranium has allowed us to produce?”

One of the boys in the dankly lit classroom proudly piped up, “My grandfather was the commander of a Zulu nuclear submarine!” Shaka smiled, “Yes, the Zulus made a new fleet of submarines which continued to guard our borders but our wise men thought long and hard and the discovery of uranium required us to add another rule to the Secret Book of Zulu Doctrine.

"And what was that, children?”

They all piped up in unision, “Ban the Bomb!” He beamed at them again, “Correct! And now I will tell you the story of how we came up with that rule.”

(continued)

[Samuel Johnson]

Into Hell

Jubal Mloka, son of the President of the Humble Zulu Democracy, gazed at the French coast before him. His chest tightened as his heartbeat quickened. Finally, after all these years and training, the Zulu Marine Corps would show its worth in battle. What is more, the son of the great Zulu leader would lead the Marines in the attack. It would be the first offensive action ever taken against another nation by a Zulu force. Earlier that year, the brave Ibwazi Infantry had held their city against a suprise French attack so this could not be characterized as the first Zulu battle. The City of Chartes and the French Communist Legions lay in wait.

After Jubal's father had signed the mutal protection pact with Germany, many believed that peace would ensue for years and that a true "balance of power" had been reached. Wherever they could be heard, the Zulus extolled the benefits of free trade and peaceful relations.

Although the French did not have a current pact with the Germans, they had a long history of mostly cooperation and peace. What Shaka did not anticipate was that the Germans had planned all along to betray their French friends and use his nation as a pawn in this devious plan. The Germans coveted the rich French cities and especially Paris, which housed the United Nations. The Zulus were encouraged that the French had built this monument to peace 50 years ago. The French had even convened a General Assembly which voted for a world leader. Zululand was among the countries that abstained from the vote. So when the Germans baited the French with their threats and border incursions, the somewhat impetuous French declared war on the Germans. Soon afterwards, the German Commisar called the Zulu President on the newly established "hotline" and asked for his assistance.

Shaka convened a council and his military advisors were adamant that their support should only consist of no more than their submarine fleet cruising the seas for French battleships. SHaka had let his son sit in on the council and he noticed Jubal's body language suggested he was not in agreement with his Shaka's War Council.

It was during this council that an aide ran into the room and cried that Ibwazi was under attack by French tanks. Shaka raced to the central command room and spoke with the Colonel commanding the infantry there. Thing sounded grim. The commander said he had lost nearly 3/4ths of the 25th Infantry and the 26th Infantry was now relieving them in wait for a second attack by the French tank division. If the Zulus lost their source of oil and coal, they would not be able to establish any sort of offensive force later on in this war.

Shaka turned to the phone with disgust at what he would have to do next. He picked it up and punched in the code for the Persian King’s palace.

Later that day, Shaka discussed the desperate situation with the Ibwazi General and during the phone call the General cried out that Persian tanks had appeared through the mountain pass.

Shaka told him to calm down and watch what happens next (and secretly hoped the Persians would not betray them).

Several minutes later, the Shaka could hear cries of victory as the Persians had joined the battle against the French wiped out their battered tank division. Shaka wiped his brow and thought to himself, “Thank the Watcher for our wine and our reserves of Gold." He knew he had done the unthinkable and signed the evil Persians up as an ally but he knew he had little choice. Although the King of Persia appeared aloof at first, Shaka could hear the excitement in his voice when he heard that the Germans would also be in the fight. For the rest of the war, the French were never able to mount another attack on Ibwazi.

Now after several years, the first Zulu force showed up off the French city of Chartes to follow-through on its deal with Germany and Persia. Colonel Mloka’s plan was now in play - the Zulus would show that they can mount an offensive. Earlier, Jubal had landed infantry and artillery up the coast and they were now waiting for the slow moving forces to arrive at the suburbs of Chartes before mounting the amphibious attack.

It was the waiting and vigilance that was wearing on his Marines. Jubal knew that this battle would be tough for the intelligence said the French had several mobile infantries inside the city. And now the infantry commander had reported that they had hooked up with a group of German tanks but were meeting some resistance along the northern coast which was hindering their progress. So the attack had been delayed for a week causing not just grumblings in the ship but frantic messages from the Joint Chief of Staff who were just as nervous as Jubal's Marines as to what would happen next.

Jubal removed his cap and touched the Deerstag tail that was affixed on the back. He had only obtained it several months ago while hunting with his father in the Zimbabwe forests. After they had killed and skinned the immense beast, his father held a ceremony that dated back to the early days of the Impi when Stag tails made up the military head-dress. Jubal's closest aides beamed in pride as their commander did the sacred Impi dance around the fire celebrating the hunt Later after many of the men were sleeping, his father took him aside. A shadow crossed the Shaka's face.

“Son, I hope someday you will be elected to this position and continue the Shaka tradition. Now I have to tell you that I am very sad that we have to fight against our oldest and dearest friends, the French, but this was the hand we were dealt. Had I been able to establish the Central Continent settlements earlier, perhaps we might not have had to turn to Germany for assistance. It is ironic now that the people blame me for embroiling us in this war when it was the Zulu Congress who dickered for so long about gaining the strategic resources we needed. Sometimes I think we adhere too closely to our precious book of rules.”

Jubal nodded in agreement for he knew how obstinate some of the Senators had been about establishing a Zulu prescence outside the Continent. Their fears were mostly based on a long-established strain of Xenophobia. In fact, Xeno had been one of the early leaders of Zulu who had expoused the isolationist policy that dominated the Zulu's dealings with others!

His father continued, “So son, I want you to be fair and just when dealing with the French. If we take their cities, you must treat their people with respect and quickly re-establish normality. My plan is to hand those cities back to the French when the war is over.” Jubal was not surprised at his father’s idealism but this was the first time he had heard the long-range plans for the French war. So, you are not to pillage or plunder the French nor do I want your Army to bomb their people or infrastructure. This is not to say that you must not maintain your fierceness when dealing with their military but once the battle is over, we will need to repair our relations with France.”

Jubal stared at his father and said, "I am Jubal and your are my father Maklaavellki. You have my word as a Zulu that I will follow your instructions." The Shaka looked proudly at his son, his Prince.

Jubal now remembered those words for they appeared all the more relevant. The initial reports from the infantry Army on the continent were that the Germans and Persians had decimated the French infastrcture. Whole villages had been burned to the ground and the landscape was black and toxic. The infrantry had been in their chemical gear since they got near the city and their sensors suggested that the Zulu’s worse fears had come to play.

It was the newspapers from Germany that first alerted Zulu to the Berlin Project. Several years later, the Germans invited the Zulus to observe a nuclear weapon test. The awesome power of the blast and the films that were subsequently shown in the theaters had awed the Zulu people and caused not a little bit of discontent and fear throughout Zululand. Even though the Zulus now owned the plans to create their own nuclear weaponry, the Congress had outlawed any weapons production. Instead the uranium was diverted to power plants and submarines.

Several of the “Hawks” in Congress had argued strongly to build an arsenal in order to advance a new Zulu doctrine of what they called “Mutually Assured Destruction” but both the Shaka and the Congress opposed such a doctrine as being counter to the long-held Zulu traditions of “live and let live.” Jubal, though, had written a paper in the military academy arguing that the “Zululand for Zulu” principle dictated that the country arm themselves with a capability to strike back at any who might threaten them with inter-continental weapons. With this, he and his father were at odds and it had caused a small but painful rift in their relationship.

Now his men faced a menace that did not kill with guns – the leftover radiation of an apparent nuclear bomb strike on Chartes. An tactical nuke or an ICBM had to be the cause for the devastation he was reading about in the reports from the coast. He had no idea what to expect when they began the invasion from the sea and he ordered all the men to wear the heaviest protective gear available. They were not very happy about it but their enthusiasm about the first Zulu attack outweighed their discomfort.

Jubal’s aide de campe appeared on the deck and informed the Colonel that his father was calling him on the satellite phone. One of the side benefits of a recently finished research program was the ability to use the satellites to communicate anywhere in the world. Well, it was a benefit and a curse for it did allow the Hloblane military HQ a bit too much leeway to nose around in Jubal’s operational plans.

Jubal told his father about the reports from the French coast and he could hear his father audibly sigh when he heard Jubal’s assessment that the Germans or Persians had used nuclear bombs. “Well, this makes sense actually,” his father said, “because yesterday we were informed by the Persians that all shipments of furs and spices would be suspended until they repaired their harbors. My guess is that the French used their ICBMs as well. I only thank the great Zulu Watcher that our country was spared the French weapons.”

Colonel Mloka stared out at the coast digesting that new piece of information. “Wow,” he thought, wondering if the French had even contemplated attacking the Zulus and shuddering deeply at the thought. He wondered if the French would have attacked the Zulus if they had thought the Zulus had the ICBM or nuclear missiles on their submarines.

------

“Well, you all know the rest of the story” Grandfather Shaka teased.

He noticed some of the children's eyes strayed to the ceremonial deer’s tail that hung from his headdress.

One boy, the grandson of the nuclear submarine commander, stood up and said reverentially to him, "But please Sir, tell us anyway."

Jubal's eyes misted at the memories of the horror of Chartes.

(Continued)

[Samuel Johnson]

A New War and a Lesson Re-Learned

At first, it looked like the Battle for Chartes would be long and horrible. Colonel Jubal Mloka lost many of his finest Marines in the intial skirmishes but he soon realized that the French command and control was non-existent and all that was left were a poorly organized militia. Some of them quickly surrendered to the forces ashore and others fought on desparately until the Zulus simply aimed Artillery shots at them.

When Jubal’s feet touched the French shore, he thought that it was worse than had been described to him by the Infantry. Blocks upon blocks of civilian housing and office buildings were flattened. When one of his aides leaned down to check a dead civilian who had obviously died trying to free herself from the rubble, he jumped back. What had looked to be a puddle under her head had turned out to be skin that had literally melted and most likely hung on as she fought her last desperate battle for life.

Although the attack had occurred weeks ago, Jubal reacted in horror when he saw small girls blinded in the attack walking around with shards of glass stuck in their heads. Many of the people were still naked for the clothes had burned off when the bomb detonated. Most of them had gone mad and walked around screaming and laughing at the folly of it all. Once he saw the dreadfulness of the situation, Jubal immediately informed his staff that he wanted to change the battle plans to see to this traumatized population. And so, he and his Marines and Infantry stayed in Chartes for several months to help the poor French citizens. Mostly he watched them die by the truckload. But little by little the city began to come to life as the long clean-up started.

He remembered how not long after his force had established a beach-head and start patrolling the devastated city that a German Tank Commander came along to assess the situation. The Prussian popped the tank cover and jumped out – he was obviously enraged that the Zulus had taken over governance of the City and claimed Chartes for the German people. Jubal, having learned lessons in diplomacy at the Hlobane War Academy, calmed the officer down and invited him into his tent complex. The tents were sealed from the radiation and they took off their decon gear and sat down for a glass of wine and some Zulu pheasant sausage and rice. This took the edge of the German officer and Jubal assured him that once the French people were back on their feet, the Zulus would turn the city over to their allies. The German seemed mollified and spent the rest of the night snoring away in Jubal’s bunk.

Finally, when the International Aid Organizations arrived to assess and take over the care of the French people, Jubal took his Marines and the Infantry forces and marched south along the coast to the remaining French cities. He had no further orders to conquer anything but instead was determined to help their French friends even while they stayed at war with them. France was now down to five cities as the Germans finally took Paris during that winter.

Mloka and his forces mainly concentrated on capturing the fleeing French forces and tending to the humanitarian needs of the devastated French people. The Germans grew more and more disgusted at the Zulus for taking on what they sneered at as a “nation-building” effort. They were determined to crush and eradicate the French. One night at a war council, the German military leaders informed the newly promoted General Mloka that they would not be renewing their military pact with the Zulus.

Mloka also noted the increasing hostilities between the newly arrived Persian Army and the Germans at that war council. He immediately went back to his camp and, after talking with his father over the SatPhone, started planning a general evacuation of the continent.

Several weeks later, as they loaded their forces for the trip back to Zululand, Jubal Mloka was delivered the news that the Persians had declared war on the Germans. Jubal whistled at this turn of events. “Even a Zulu could see that one coming a mile away,” his aide-de-camp quipped.

Obviously, the arrogant Persians were not happy with their meager spoils in the French war and were determined to take it out on the Germans. Since the French were soon to be but a memory, the Shaka President told his son that his last act on the formerly French continent was to hand over the governance of Chartes to the Persians. Jubal chuckled at the rather ingenious ploy by his father as it allowed a foothold for the Persians to launch their attacks on the Germans and distracted them from planning any attacks on the Zulus.

The Persians acted as he thought they would and quickly arrived with their tanks impatient for the Zulus to leave Chartes. Jubal shuddered at the treatment the French people would probably received at the hands of the Persians but his thoughts were with the well being of Zululand first. Happily for the Zulus, the Persians had resumed their trade routes and the people were once again producing fine wine for the Germans, the Persians and the almost vanquished Iroquois.

As the General headed back to Zululand, they passed many Persian battleships and he winced thinking of the beating the Germans were about to take for their selfishness. On the other hand, the Persians were no better and he was happy to be done with the lot of him. Several years ago, when he first learned they would be starting this adventure he thirsted for war but now having seen it up close, he and his men only wanted to return home to their wives. His ancestors were right. There was little to be gained by involving themselves in the aggressive affairs of the other nations.
----
“So you see, children." Grandpa Shaka intoned, "the wisdom of our Elders was once again proven. Now I shall tell you of the events that occurred once I returned home from the French wars.”

[Samuel Johnson]

Secret Meetings and Grand Plans

After several days traveling north, Jubal drove into the bustling city of Zimbabwe. He loved to drive the highways of Zululand and stopped many times along the way to take in the scenery of their beautiful continent. He was just damn glad to be home again.

The old palace could be seen from hill overlooking the city. It still consisted of the old stone markers and the cave which was ground zero to the Zulu civilization. The outside world thought it was mostly ceremonial but a great meeting hall had been carved into the cave. Because no wires extended down to the hall (it was lit by torches) and the steel doors and about a 1/4 mile of pure limestone protected it from the outside world, the Zulus could be sure that no spies would be able to eavesdrop. Zulus entered it in cermonial robes for it was a great honor to be called to the palace for a secret council.

Nearby, government bureaucrats were ensconced in the skyscrapers that defined the skyline and many of them saw the great convacation that was taking place below and wondered what it boded for their future. They saw the country's leading military leaders, the chief scientists, the cultural ministers, the Secretary of State & his chief diplomats, both houses of the Congress and the Domestic governors from all the provinces enter.

President Shaka Mloka eyed the assembled in the flickering light. He told them that all of the people in the room were the most trusted in all of Zululand. Jubal scanned the room and noticed a few Senators and Governers were missing. He remembered the foreign trade delegation his father had organized a few weeks ago and assumed they were off renegotiating the wine contracts with the Germans. Now he had an inkling why his father had put together such a diverse and august group for a simple trade junket.

Shaka continued. “For the Zulu Nation to embark on this great project, we must have a clear concensus. My son and the expeditionary Army can attest to the devastation of nuclear weapons and it is clear we must have a strategy to deal with the aggressive nations who now control the world and wield these, these... weapons of mass destruction.” Jubal thought to himself, that's putting it mildly, old man. There were murmurs of agreement, nods of heads and Shaka made eye contact with his key advisors as he went on. “To do this, requires the greatest of secrecy. In fact, just as in the days of yore when we hid the construction of our great projects…” He looked around the room knowing that this subject caused no small amount of shame for the Zulus since they had not once finished a Great Wonder before another civilization had claimed the idea.

He continued. “I say, as we hid the construction of our great projects, we shall do so with this one. Everyone of you in this room had been thoroughly investigated and you have the utmost trust of your President and the peoples of Zululand.” The room was deadly silent. “And now, I would like to call my Prime Minister and my Joint Chief of Staff to explain to you the details.”
----
Grandfather Jubal Mlako looked around the room, his eyes settling on ZuZu and he made a mock conspiratorial grimace at her, causing the entire room the break out in gales of laughter at his clownishness.

[Jeremy]

Good to see you writing again, Samuel. I really like your stories.

[Samuel Johnson]

And Then There Were Three....

And so the Zulus built in the hollow of Mt. Kahira near Hloblane.

The spies from other countries noted the comings and goings of nuclear engineers, construction crews and many trucks full of food and water supplies. They also noted a railroad being built to Mt. Kahira as well. They reported their findings back to their agencies.

Because the Persians and Germans were engaged in their "War to End All Wars", most of the people assigned to spying on the Zulus were from their second string. The analysts assigned to the Zulus in both countries surmised the backwards people were building a large shelter for their population and noted that there were several projects throughout the country to build nuclear weapons. Several of the traitorous moles in the Zulu government told of the ongoing research in Integrated Defense Systems and both the Germans and Persians concluded the Zulus were, as usual, developing a strong defense of Zululand against ICBMs.

The policy-makers of these countries, when they spoke of the Zulus, merely scoffed that the Zulus would not be able to build a sufficient number of ICBMs and afford to maintain a Strategic Missile Defense. They reported this to their leaders and they laughed at the elaborate ruse the Zulus had tried to pull on them. This was nothing new for the Zulus had throughout history been a story of failures when it came to great projects. Their actions in the French war were laughable, only being able to take one city and then fleeing before the real shooting began.

The leaders of Germany and Persia were arrogant and thought that no one could hide anything from their most excellent spy agencies. One of their military academies even wrote a paper outlining how easy it would be to take Zululand because of the Zulu’s lack of tactical aircraft to ward off battleship attacks.

When the Zulus were asked what they were doing at the yearly United Nations meeting, the Ambassador merely smiled and said that they were afraid of "accidental launches" of nuclear weapons and were only doing what any rational nation would do to protect its citizens. The "talking heads" of the Persian Global News Network laughed about the "paranoia" of the Zulus for weeks thereafter.

The German-Persian war ground on and as the Germans destroyed the Persian colonies, the Zulu settlement of Ibwazi in the Central Continent sent out a group of Settlers to claim a site near an aluminum mine. Now the Zulus were free to pursue their plans in full.

The remaining nations of the Iroquois sided with the Germans and the Zulus just watched as the Persians ate up the remaining Iroquois cities. And soon the Iroquois joined the French and the rest of them on the ash heap of history.

There remained three civilizations and the Great President Shaka knew that when the Germans and Persians finally gave up on their stalemate, they would turn their greedy eyes towards Zululand.
----
That night, ZuZu asked Grandfather Shaka once again about what the world looked like and to describe the grass and the forests for her. She asked him about the deer and the fish that how her Great-Grandfather would hunt and catch.

Jubal sighed knowing that soon they would be "going above" and he could only guess what waited for them up there.

[Samuel Johnson]

A Final Sacrifice

During the final years of his rule as the Zulu President, Jubal’s father had taken Jubal totally into his confidence. The scope of Maklaavellki’s scheme astounded Jubal in its intricacies. At times, the President had inexplicably called for celebrations and assigned many of the city’s key project workers to organize great jubilees to entertain the masses. Jubal was amazed to learn that these celebrations were merely Shaka’s way of delaying a covert project until the scientists in the universities and research labs had finished the work on a specific technology. To the outside world, it looked like the city was taking a break from work on a building, say a recycling facility or a nuclear plant, but shortly after the scientists unveiled, say, the first generation of Superconductors, the people were immediately put back to work on whatever project had been disrupted. In one city, scientists appeared to be toiling at Battlefield Medicine. In another city, they were building what looked like Inter-Continental Missiles.

Jubal had become a regular visitor to Mt. Kahira and he oversaw the great project that was being built in the bowels of the old gold mines. He marveled at the stockpiles of food and energy cells and after inspecting the computer systems,he would ask for a progress report on the overall project from the Chief Engineer. Many of the people knew only a little piece of what was going on and only a few like Jubal and the Engineer knew the extent of the project. Now it was only months before Maklaavellki would reveal to the world the project. Jubal had seen the first drafts of his speech. And so he continued to tour the country inspecting the work that was being done and reporting back daily to his father the various details of the progress.

Finally, when the anointed day came, the President appeared in front of his austere Palace in front of a huge crowd of Zimbabweans. While the Persians did not see fit to broadcast the address on their Global News Network, the analysts in their spy agencies eavesdropped via satellite TV. The German Ambassador observed from a platform of Distinguished Visitors.

The old President strode up to the podium with great confidence. He wore an impeccably tailored 3-piece suit and that immediately amused a Persian analyst watching in Perepolis for he had previously only appeared in baggy, poorly tailored apparel. “Something must be up,” one of the analysts said sardonically as he pointed at the tube with his coffee cup, “the old man is in Gucci” and the entire office broke up.

The President’s Son also appeared on the stage behind his father and surveyed the crowd as his Father began his speech.

“People of Zululand. For many years now, we have been working on a Great Project. I would like to thank you for your unquestioning zeal and the long hours you have put into it. Many of you have done more than your fair share and have probably wondered just what we were up to. Now all can be revealed.

“Some of you have questioned our work. Yes, I have seen the newspaper editorials and have heard the words our friends across the oceans. They laugh at our paranoia and our fear of a nuclear holocaust. I, and my son, am here to tell you that so long as the Persians and Germans exist with their weapons of mass destruction, that threat is real. But Zulu long ago vowed never to build these weapons and WE HAVE STUCK TO OUR VOW.” The analyst in the Persian intelligence agency dropped his coffee cup.

“Persians, Germans, you would be wise to be afraid but Zulus should be afraid no longer.

“Tomorrow, we will hold a great lottery and the first of the Zulu people will be called to Mt. Kahira, not to hide in fear of a nuclear strike but to embark on the greatest journey that man has ever taken.

“And that journey will be taken by ZULU!”

The crowd erupted in ear-splitting cheers for this could only mean that the rumors of a great spaceship were now confirmed. For a long time, these rumors were said to be the work of conspiracy theorists and nutcases – what a grand deception!

“Yes, Mt. Kahira will open up to the heavens and a Zulu spaceship will travel to the nearest star system which houses a livable planet. The Zulu people are humble no more.”

He said the last sentence with deliberate emphasis on each word and syllable. Again the crowds cheered -now even more madly than before. Already, impromptu celebrations in the street were being held throughout Zululand at the thought of the Zulus conquering not another country but the heavens.

“Our `friends’, the Persians and Germans have chosen a path of destruction that can only end in despoilment of this planet. They have warred for so long for control of Earth and created so much pollution that we have watched as our grasslands turned to plains and our plains turn to desert. Now we tell them, YOU CAN HAVE EARTH. At this moment, the other mountains in the Hloblane range house other spaceships in various stages of completion. Those who are not chosen for the first flight will go to the mountains corresponding with their cities to prepare for the rest of the Zulu hegira.”

The cheering lasted for at least 15 minutes even as the Shaka President tried to wave them down.

“But my people. I will not be making the trip with you and I ask all the men and women of Zululand over 55 to please sacrifice their places on the spaceships to the young. Our scientists calculate that the trip will take more than 40 years and many of us will be dead by that time anyway. It is only logical.”

Jubal stared in shock at this news for he had always assumed his father would travel in the ship with him. There was a dead silence in the crowd as they pondered the implications.

“We will stay behind and write a final history of the Zulus on Earth while you begin our next generation on Alpha Centurai. May the love of the Great Watcher be with you always. And with this, I turn over my Presidency to my Son so he can direct the final preparations.”

On his last day on earth, Jubal hunted one last time with his father on the hills outside Hloblane and in the shadow of Mt. Kahira. His strapping young son Meka joined the pair for the first and last time and he bagged a large pheasant, which they prepared that night. Maklaavellki stayed up sewing the feathers into a shoulder necklace for Meka and in the morning they said their sad goodbyes. Jubal fought back tears as he hugged his father knowing that he would never see him again. He had debated whether he should be on this first spaceship and had finally come to the conclusion that a new rule must be added to the Zulu Rules and that was, “The Shaka must always lead from the front – into battle or into the future.”

President General Jubal Mloka breathed in the air. True, the scientists had said it was fine but someone had to be the canary in the mine and he knew it had to be him. At his advanced age, he would be leaving the world soon anyway. His now mature son, Meka, came out of the airlock behind him. “Great Watcher! Do you see it, Father?” Jubal cried once again at the sight – for there on the plains clearly ran what looked like a herd of deer. He whispered to himself, “even a Zulu can see that one coming a mile away.”

“Bring her out,” he said and Meka turned to fetch his daughter.

Jubal’s eyes sparkled when he saw her appear in her ceremonial dress and he took her hand and they walked down the platform into the new world. He saw the world both through the eyes of the ever-alert leader and through the wondrous eyes of Zuzu. The purple grass rustled at their feet as they stepped onto the planet. To her, all of this was new and exciting. To him, it was weird and wondrous. The similarities to earth were uncanny but the differences was shocking.

Behind him, his people started streaming out of the ship looking as if they had just awakened from a long sleep.

Grandfather and Grandaughter both stared at the rising orange sun. “Grandfather, you will have to change your rules.” He smiled broadly and squeezed her hand. “We shall have to do so, dear. We.”

The end.

[Samuel Johnson]

Thanks to Civman and Jeremy for the words of encouragement. I hope you enjoyed this. It was based on a diety level game on a large map with seven other civilizations.

Throughout the game, I was almost always the weakest civ. Even at the end, my point total was fourth.

I never really got to exploit my civs capabilities (militaristic, expansionist) because for the first part of the game I was alone on my continent.

I didn't really come up with my strategy until the Persians attacked the Germans near the end and then each turn I was afraid one of them would get to the spaceship first since they had beat me on every other wonder. My original strategy was to build the UN and get the award for being the nice and ever so 'umble civ. When France built the UN, I debated killing the game but stuck it out just to see what would happen. The mixture of Germans with Persians as well as the Aztecans and perhaps more land than seven civs could deal with led to a most interesting game.

[EmprorCoopinius]

Very nice story, I enjoyed it much. Good work.

[ElDiablo]

Great story! I seconded it in the 3rd story contest!

[PsionicMind]

WOW

Excellent!! I enjoyed this greatly!!

[Samuel Johnson]

Thanks for your kind comments, one and all, and for the nomination in the next story contest.

It will probably be awhile until I write my next story (or even play Civ) since I am currently concentrating on a "real"paper which ironically is about foreign policy and "grand strategies."

Since the Zulus tried to pursue a kind of idealist-based isolationism, writing the story and playing Civ got me to think about the paper and vice versa.

I need to edit some of the typos and poor syntax here and there so please forgive those errors - I just don't have time to get to it right now.

"Sam"

[Samuel Johnson]

VANITY BUMP .. because I could not find it on the forums since the server switch.

[civman2000]

Story contest bump--this story made it to the finals!

[Richelieu]

Originally posted by Samuel Johnson
VANITY BUMP .. because I could not find it on the forums since the server switch.

No problem with me. You should be proud of this one. It has quality and it has length.
Lots of length! It's an Epic!

[Centauri18]

Bump - this story rocks.

[vovan]

Digging up the old classics, Centauri18? Good for those who haven't read them - there are some real gems hidden in there somewhere.

EDIT: 300th post. I'm a Prince now!

[Centauri18]

I like old stories.

[Centauri18]

And hey, if it isn't finished and my digging means that the story comes back to the author's attention, well, that's great.

[Samuel Johnson]

Well, you did and here I am. Got a story coming up in one... two...

[Centauri18]

Wow, didn't see that coming.

[vovan]

Goody, goody, looking forward to the next one.

Although, ummm, shouldn't it be a countdown, instead of one, two..., Sam?

[gooberboob]

looks like a countup, a perfectly acceptable type of counting... more optimistic.

[Samuel Johnson]

Yes, its a count-up "in three"

Thanks for digging this one out. It was just by coincidence that I had dropped by - been pretty busy lately IRL.

[unscratchedfoot]

Originally posted by gooberboob
looks like a countup, a perfectly acceptable type of counting... more optimistic.

I think horizontal counting is best because it confuses people when used during threats. "I will now count to 2 before I blow your head off with this shotgun. One.. one.. one..."

By the way Sam dude, this zulu thing looks like a hooby-doover of a story, although I haven't actually read it yet.