‘People of the country of Incognita,’ he began. High above the square, Berisha Begari looked down from his perch two hundred metres above the cupola of the Sunshine Circus. ‘People of Incognita,’ the President repeated, suddenly made uneasy by the eerie stillness that now emanated from the enormous crowd. ‘I am your father,’ the President proceeded, suddenly unable to remember his prepared speech. ‘You are my children, and, like a good father, it is my sacred duty to protect my family from the Outsiders.’ The President stopped and waited. Usually, the word ‘Outsiders’ was a trigger for uproarious cheering and applause. This year, the President found himself gulping and running a finger around inside his collar, which suddenly felt too tight. The President cleared his throat. ‘ . . . from the Outsiders,’ he repeated. At last, someone in the front of the crowd raised an arm, and the President prepared himself for a cry of patriotism and nationalistic punching of the air. However, the cry that issued from the citizen was not Hurray for the President!, but a timid Boo! that echoed from one side of the square to the other, and was accompanied by the unexpected landing of an ovoid missile at the President’s feet.
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