"Your Majesty you would not have a British Colony fail would you?" Black Eagle
said to the shadow across the Thames. By now it was lore that what "Black Eagle"
was, or more to the point, what his image was--that silhouette and trench coat--was
a communications system from the Marrietta Airforce Base in Windy Hill, Georgia.
It was an elaborate contraption run by... someone whose sanity ought to be
questioned, for it was kept up.. this Fifties... critique... at Level 100
of the US Security apparatus. Jahbaalon.
"Her Majesty is of the opinion," the code chattered across the river, "that
even former colonies have a right to the pace of their own development."
"Not Nigeria," Black Eagle appeared before the gates of the Palace. Britain
stood at a stand still. It had taken six seconds this time.
"Yes, Nigeria" the Queen said firmly. "And Nigeria too. The people of Nigeria.."
"I am the people of Nigeria Your Majesty," it was a prince. The one of Zaria.
"..my..."
The flash...
(...and he wough gouwn..
"Black eagle.."
"Streak through the universe with prescience..."
"Roger that...
"What would you have have me do?"
He listed one hundred things in quick succession. "Sign here" he said.
The Queen signed.
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