Free Countdown: The Liberators-ARC by Tom Kratman

black studies people said at the university? Except it isn't. Though conquered once, Ethiopia was never really colonized. It's a mess. "The imperialists mixed up tribes and thus guaranteed conflict." Which would seem to be true except that Rwanda and Burundi have the same tribal mix they had before the Euros showed up. They're the very definition of a mess. And of my own "country," the less said the better.
    I'm barely old enough to remember the euphoria of decolonialization, though I've heard enough about it. I wonder if there's a man or woman in Africa who wouldn't prefer things to go back the way they were under colonialism? What did that expat Canadian cynic say? Ah, yes, I remember: "By comparison with the sonofabitch system, colonialism is progressive and enlightened."
    And at least back then we could all get together in peace, love, and harmony in hating the whites. Now we only have each other to hate and fear. And to steal from, of course.

    There was a youngish white man, tall, muscular, tanned, blonde, and bearded, waiting for the Kenya Airways flight as the hatch opened. The white's sweat-stained shirt was unbuttoned halfway to his navel.
    Labaan took one look and thought, God . . . no! Not one of them, not here?
    "Dude," the white said, as Labaan reached the foot of the debarking steps, "the plane . . . it's bogus . . . it's broken."
    God save me from Californians, Labaan thought. It wasn't enough to have to go to school with the mindless twits. Even here, without a surfable beach for over a thousand miles, they find me to blight my existence and insult their own language.
    "And you are?" Labaan asked.
    "Lance, dude."
    Of course. Lance. "What's wrong with the plane, Lance?" he asked.
    The California expat's real name was Roger. Since, however, he was acutely conscious of his origins, he went by "Lance." Lance threw his arms in the air and answered, "Man, I dunno. I'm still trying to figure it out."
    I knew everything was going too well, Labaan thought, calmly. For the first time since beginning his mission he felt comfortable. This was Africa, after all, and things were not supposed to go well. Besides, God must have his little joke with us.
    "How long to fix it?" Labaan asked.
    "No clue, dude. Nobody here can do a fucking thing with it, and I mostly just fly 'em."
    "Of course" Labaan sighed. He began rubbing his forehead against the headache that was beginning to build. There are maybe three hundred kilometers of paved road in this country, he thought, and most of them are not between here and our next stop. Fuck.
    Hmmm . . . we could hire some camels and drivers. And that would take weeks . . . .maybe months. That would be too late. The local airline would be a bad option. We can hardly trust our prisoner not to make trouble and if I inject him again nobody would let him on their flight. Rent a van, truck, or bus? I shudder. Stay here until the plane is fixed?
    Labaan took another look at Lance. A rental vehicle it is.

    Labaan sipped a coffee in a small shop overlooking the buses. His compatriots were with him. So was Adam, who had been tranquilized but not given anything else beyond that. Abdi had liberally sprinkled the boy with some imported brandy, enough so that he reeked of it. Labaan watched as the drivers of the various conveyances busied themselves with fixing luggage to the roofs of their vehicles even though there were no paying customers yet.
    "What is all that?" he asked his waiter.
    The waiter laughed, broad white smile showing in a friendly black face. "The buses don't leave until they're full. So they put the fake luggage on to convince people that they're nearly full so that more people line up to get on their bus. In a strange way, it even works as those who are best at looking like they're ready to leave are most successful in getting people aboard so they can leave."
    "I see. And yes, I see how that could work."
    And I've no time to fuck around with this; I'll just rent the whole bus. The