Sunday, April 8, 2012
Transparency is the Apocalypse/Chapter Fifteen
“I’m sorry old boy, but I’ve held out at long as my sanity will allow. You’ve got to go.” Vaughan Smith had tears in his eyes. His home Ellingham Hall in Norfolk, England had been Assange’s sanctuary from political persecution for the nearly a year. “I thought I could stomach it, as I believe in what you are doing. Prannie understood in the beginning, but month after month of fending off reporters and paparazzi has taken its toll. The prank phone calls were funny at first, but now they’re hourly, on every phone we own. Our spam filters don’t block death threats and we’ve been hacked so much we considered unplugging ourselves from the world…but we don’t need to if you’re not here.”
“I understand mate.” Assange smiled. “Fish and visitors stink after three days, let alone three hundred, and what I brought to the table was already rotten.”
Vaughan’s eyes leaked as he maintained his gaze. “You are not rotten, you are the truth. You are what the world needs and wants. I will continue to help however I can, but if I want my marriage to last, I have to pass the baton for now. Prannie believes in you too, but when ideology and reality are set upon a mother’s scale, children tip the balance.”
“Rightly so. Your family is one-of-a-kind Vaughan. I’ve written you in my will to pay you back when the time comes.”
Vaughan wiped his tears away with shaking hands and held them out to Assange. “Then stay alive chap. I want you to see what you’ve accomplished when it all plays out. You deserve to witness the fruition of your work. The dominoes are falling as we speak, and the world is ready for this regardless of the governments who are scared shitless of their own shadows.”
“As well they should be.” Assange took his hands in his own. “Thank you brother. Your hospitality and understanding are only surpassed by your sustainable farming that tastes so good.” They embraced as if it was the last time they would see each other.
“You’re not so bad for an Aussie.” Vaughan’s voiced hitched and his eyes kept leaking.
Assange winked. “And you’re not so bad for a wanker.”