The Windmills of Saxony

The windmills of Saxony are a marvelous sight to behold. Their blades spin, sparkling in the wind that always blows about the bounds of Saxony; but it is a strange wind indeed, for it is of the windmills' own making. They are powered by the light of the sun, the movements of the waves, and the heat of the fire at the core of the Earth; they spin ceaselessly, day and night, rain or shine. And there is more yet to these windmills; for within the wind-lines they spin fly the Grothorpes, in a ceaseless circuit all about the bounds of Saxony.

The Grothorpes themselves are a strange sort of spectacle. They, too, glitter in the light, and to the innocent eye might be thought to be a kind of bird or fay creature. Close inspection reveals the truth: they are a sort of robot, a clever automaton. Their form is simple; a pair of wings, with solar panels atop, a camera beneath, and a radio-antenna between. While the windmills of Saxony spun, the Grothorpes flew, propelled by the eternal wind, watching all who entered or left that land.

It might be thought that this was odd, that Saxony might have such a border-fence; but it was not so strange, perhaps, when compared with the condition of Saxony's interior. The Free Democratic People's Liberation Committee ruled for the good of the People, and their rule was one of eternal surveillance: cameras in all public spaces, all private spaces, anywhere that a camera might be mounted. Their reign was corrupt, and so crime persisted despite all this; but the highest crime of all was dissent, so easily seen through a camera's lens. Mass executions were regularly scheduled.

The Revolution came to Saxony, though not before atrocities such as might have destroyed a lesser people. The cameras were smashed, the secret police shot, the FDPLC tried and, inevitably, executed in their own machines. The windmills were shut off, and the Grothorpes fell from the air, breaking upon the hard earth. The air was still about Saxony.

But the windmills were turned on again, though no new Grothorpes were built to harness their wind; for the people of Saxony loved beauty too much to sacrifice it for fear of terrors past.