I decided to write a long entry tonight.

I have to do some very bad things, and I wanted to leave a record of my reasons.

My name is [ redacted ], son of Maraiki. I’m a native of Fonaci.

I have little love left for my planet or its people.

But the government must go.

My city was lush back before 1800y. That’s what people say, anyway. After three hundred years of unequal trade, it’s a hell. It’s all I’ve ever known, and I still recognize it as a hell.

My knowledge of history is bad. Forgive my ignorance. We had something called a ‘parliamentary government’ through 1790. They say people actually had a say in the way the government ran, then.

Then came the Universal trade movement, and our government was shut down. The book said they were too isolationist and uncompetitive, too hostile to trade. The new government was described as “laissez-faire” capitalist. I don’t know anything about politics or economics. I’ve never had enough money so I don’t know what that means at all. I’m sorry. What I do know is what the world looks like now.

Everything here is run by giant corporations off-planet. We don’t know the names, anymore, or care. They used to train locals to work in the factories, even within my lifetime. But the factories got bigger and bigger, and now they bring in their own people. I don’t know why. I don’t know what they make.

One of the members of my cell is an engineer, but he couldn’t explain it to us.

The factories are like little cities in themselves. They have security forces. Mostly from Brynton. They beat, torture and kill locals for fun, or to intimidate, or if they catch you within the protected zone near a factory.

Officially, the government provides food dispensaries for basic sustenance, and ‘facilities’ for basic health and services.

Officially.

[ redacted ] is here. More later.