All characters outside of Mr. Chana are to be read with a strong southern accent. Any pronunciation of the word Confederacy by said characters is to be heard as "confedracy".
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Confederate States of America
While the existence of a nation known as the Confederate States of America is hardly a new event in the multiverse, this particular version's downright odd claim to fame struck me as particularly interesting, resulting in a somewhat hasty trip that landed me in their financial capital of Atlanta, Georgia rather than their governmental capital of Richmond, Virginia thanks to a translation error. However, this soon proved a blessing in disguise, as I was able to sample first-hand the country's rather unique way of doing things.
My ticket on the Southron Pacific 12:30 to Richmond was for first class, which gained me incredibly gracious treatment by all staff, after a second's hesitation to confirm that their eyes didn't deceive them. My car had luxurious seats, impeccable service by the waitstaff who brought lunch, and an expansive selection of movies or electronic books should the view not satisfy me. Nearly everyone in my car chose one or the other, allowing me several surreptitious glances at the passengers to confirm that my eyes didn't deceive me. They were dressed in either formal business wear or what they would call 'their Sunday best', were all at least in the middle class, if not downright wealthy, and were all, to a man, woman, and child, black. There were some who appeared to be of mixed race or a darker Hispanic skin color, but that they were racial minorities was plain as day. Wondering if all I'd heard was really true, I went to briefly look into the car ahead of us. The staff tried to return me to my seat, albeit politely, but the signed letter my contact had produced for me made them even more deferential to me than before. I was allowed to enter the foyer of the next car and confirm that it was exactly the same as mine, save for a slightly larger number of white and other light-skinned occupants. Though I had seen it with my own eyes, a small part of me refused to believe it for the rest of the trip.
Upon arrival at Richmond, I was chauffeured to the confederal capitol building, which, like many buildings in the city, was built after the style of the old United States in the first half of the 19th century, though as I was later told it was slightly bigger than the original capitol building which stood unused in Washington D.C. I was guided(ushered would have been too strong a word given the level of politeness my guide used) into the office of Jackson Stuart Lee, senior senator for Virginia and one of the highest figures in the Whig Party. He smiles wide as he shakes my hand.
"Welcome to the great state of Virginia, Mr. Chaná” He exclaimed, in a voice that managed to have the force of a shout with only half the volume. "I trust you enjoyed the journey?"
I nod, still not having fully wrapped my head around the situation I was in. Fortunately, he both acknowledges and understands my reaction.
"I knew you'd react this way, but I just couldn't resist. After all, from all I've seen of those other Confederacies, I knew you'd never expect a black man in government, let alone one so high. Figured it'd be the best statement I could provide on our great country here."
Having recovered from my brief shock, I ask him how he believes his nation managed to be so different than its other counterparts.
"Well now, I see we're starting out strong. The way I see it, it's all a matter of tradition. Once something makes its way into Southern tradition, its damn hard to get out. And that tradition started not even two years after our founding. When ol' Bobby Lee got whupped, and yes, that's what happened at Sharpsburg, he knew that the Confederacy couldn't just keep going on doing what it was, or we'd be licked. We needed a knockout blow, and the only one we'd got, at least to his eyes at the time, had been taken away by nothin' more than bad luck. We needed to start evenin' the score, counter the Yankee advantages. And their biggest advantage was men. They had more, plain and simple. But we had a source we hadn't used yet. Our secret weapon", and here he smiles, "my ancestors."
"The slaves?" I asked
"Yer damn right! President Davis didn't like it, but he liked his best general losing to an idiot a hell of a lot less, and Congress was just scared enough to agree with him. After that, it was just a matter of sendin' out word, and soon the army had more men than you could shake a stick at. Sign up for the duration and you're free. They even paid 'em towards the end, though it wasn't near what they should've got. Of course, we almost lost anyway. Took a year for things to really get going. We were just like our 'counterparts', always fightin' in our own land, never bein' able to take it to the damnyankees. But then" he pauses for dramatic effect "Gettysburg came along. Two days of fightin' in the heart of yankeeland, two glorious days of us givin' our all. We might've lost even then, if Fred Turner hadn't shot that damnyankee officer on Little Round Top and given us our opening to break their line." Fred Turner was a slave-turned-soldier, who became the first black man to be given the Medal of Courage, albeit posthumously 50 years later. "After that, the Union had a dagger inches from its heart, and ol' Abe Lincoln didn't have a choice but to talk peace."
"But I know what you really wanna hear. You wanna know how folks like me got to be here instead of some pampered Wade Hampton the 10th or whoever" he says as if referencing a common joke. "Well, after the war, we didn't quite know what to think. Slavery was still a big part of the economy, but the slaves had saved the whole nation, and by proving they could fight just as well as any white man to boot. We might've kept wondering forever if the Union hadn't come back for more. The 80s War Of Aggression just proved again how a black man could fight, and even lead in some cases, like a white man, and England demanding we manumit our slaves as the price for aid was just the last step, not the only one like the damnyankees keep saying. That technically resulted in equality right there, though it took a couple decades for economic equality to really get going, and a couple more after that for political equality."
I ask if the current state of affairs can really be considered equality.
"Three words, Mr. Chana. Separate but equal. No man can be treated differently on account of his skin, and that's in the Constitution. I can tell you saw it on the Southron Pacific, and I can guarantee that its the same elsewhere, if not as luxurious. Why, the Gala Theater Company based right here does things the same way, and its got nothin' but praise from all but the most radical Progressives. Here, all men are created equal. We are the true America" he says, warming to the theme behind his speech "not those damnyankee bastards up in Philadelphia. Our three main parties battle it out every six years, three for representatives and half the senate. Their Unionist Party gets a few protest votes against it every time they decide to run a show election. Our president is bound by the Constitution and the will of the states, theirs has the army bully everyone into doing what he wants. The historians can say what they want, but the so-called United States of America is the biggest slave state on Earth, and it ain't manumitting any time soon."
I spend the next ten minutes attempting to end the conversation as politely as I could, for he had been so genuinely ingratiating in spite of, or perhaps because of, his earnest rhetoric that I genuinely didn't want to offend him. I finally managed to say my goodbyes and hurried to my next appointment.
Gabrielle Semmes, Progressive nominee for the presidency, boasted just as strong a political pedigree as her ideological opponent. A firebrand representative from South Carolina, she recently became the first mixed-race woman to declare candidacy for a party nomination for president. While her race has helped her in some areas, her gender has raised eyebrows, and her platform has kept them there, forcing her to lean on her family name to counter accusations of going against the Confederate way of life. Granddaughter of President Gabriel Semmes and great-granddaughter of Confederate war hero Raphael Semmes, she leveraged that into a campaign bursting with patriotism. As she explained to me, she needed all that she could get.
"Segregation is a damnfool idea-always has been. But its been so ingrained into the Confederate consciousness that you can't lay a finger on it without looking unpatriotic. I'll bet the good Senator told you about Southron Pacific and Gala Theater, didn't he?" I nod, and she continues. "Of course he would. They're probably the only two segregating institutes in the country that practice what they preach. Oh sure, its not nationally mandated anymore, and most of the states got rid of it in the parks and buildings and such that they owned directly, but so many companies hold to it that it's still like it hasn't changed at all in some places. And you should see some of the excuses for "equality" we have here. Most airlines find excuses to charge their colored customers more if they try to buy a ticket above economy class, and far too many companies seem to overlook upgrading their colored facilities while ensuring their white ones are always top of the line. And don't even try to take a ship somewhere unless you're willing to either get ignored by everyone or pay them to pay attention to you. The fact that it works in some places doesn't excuse its failure in others, and we've been willfully blinded to those failures for too long."
"Well, no more. Once I'm in office, we'll come down so hard on standards that those two examples will be the only ones left from sea to glorious sea!" She has risen from her seat during her monologue, and embarrasedly composes herself upon noticing. "But that's not even the worst problem we have, not anymore. I'm guessing you got a few looks on your way here? Well, it's cause you're an Injun" I had previously been assured that the word had no negative context here, in the same vein as Negro in reference to a black man "and they don't tend to leave the Territory on account of most of 'em bein poor, at least by national standards. Trust me, if you'd fit the stereotype, you'd have had a damn sight more trouble with people. I've read up on those other Confederacies, and while most of 'em would've kept me out of this here race for my color or gender(not that it stopped those monocle-wearing sexists here from trying,)" she muttered, "this one would have tossed me out on my rear if I hadn't had the cash to put me in the top 10 percent. We brag about how we got rid of our racial divide, but we just replaced it with a class one. If you're born poor, you live poor and you die poor. Sure we're getting better about helping folks get higher education and training, but it’s too few too slow. And what welfare we have is only enough to keep people where they are; they need a boost, not a holding pattern. This party was founded on a dream of doing more for the people, not just keeping things the same as they always have been. We offer something the Democrats and Whigs never could and never will-change. No stubborn old conservatism, no high-and-mighty liberalism, just a desire for progress."
I wonder if she believes the south should take some cues from its neighbor to the north.
"Hell no! I know that question might make sense in some of those other worlds, but here yankeeland can keep its way of doing things. We've got more than our fair share of problems, but I'd take that monster Lyndon Johnson and his promise to resegregate the whole damn nation over them any day." She treats this name like a curse, her animosity towards both him and the Union clear. "I know what I said about how this country treats its Negroes and natives, not to mention its poor, but I'll tell you somethin'." She leans closer to me. "Up there, if you're born with skin like you and me, if you're unlucky enough to be born a descendent of those 'traitorous slaves and redskins' who helped the south break free, you consider yourself lucky if you go a week without being spit on, beat up, or harassed by a security officer for 'vagrancy'. The Confederacy needs change, and it needs it now, but we're downright perfect compared to the USA.”
