Disclaimer: This story is fiction, but like many others of its genre, it presents a scenario which is plausible and although merely designed to provoke imaginative thought, may be misinterpreted as "reality". Therefore, the names have been changed to insure the author is protected and any resemblance to situations past or present is pure conjecture on your part.
[quoteright]Our tale begins in a sleepy little village hidden deep in the sunbaked hills of Mexico. In a corner of the village, away from the only dirt road, sits a dilapidated mud and tin shack. In its front room four very old men are seated around a battered kitchen table plotting the takeover of the world. (You may think this an odd subject for old men to be sharing over their midday frijoles, but two out of three pollsters agree, world domination is the meal-time topic of choice from Damascus to Managua.)
First to speak is Amad. His face, half hidden in a billowing white headdress, shows tremendous intensity, as well as a great tan. "Friends, I bring salutations from the land of the burning sands," he states. "As you know my people have been forced, through no fault of their own, to slow their timetable for buying a controlling interest in all manufacturing and service industries in Europe, England and our portion of the United States."
Breaking in with a wave of greasy fingers, "Yes, yes, Amad, we are all fully aware of how the price of oil has fallen," commented Ishi, a somewhat diminutive man with a strange camera fetish, "but, you must agree if you and your brothers would have kept from so obviously over-producing, the oil shortage sting could have gone on for many more years!"
"Don't be so self-righteous Senior Ishi, if YOU did not have all your people stuck on that little scrap of land, completely brainwashed into corporate devotion and religiously investing in the common good, they would not be any better off than that pitiful gang south of you," interjected Carlos, the host of the little soiree. "That may be true, Carlos, but I'm here to report our 'brainwashed masses' have put us ahead of schedule. Just this last month, we purchased two U.S. banks, three manufacturing conglomerates and more importantly, began negotiations on a partial takeover of Disneyland!" sneered Ishi.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," soothed Batutu. As the oldest member and certainly the most distinguished looking, in his white linen suit offset with ebony accoutrements, he commanded immediate attention. "I do feel such bickering among old comrades is contrary to our charter and not befitting men who have been molding world affairs for over three decades."
Each settled back into his chair with a creaking of old bones and old angers.
Ending the silence by reaching for another scoop of steaming beans, Ishi commented, "Thank you Father Batutu, we sometimes forget the importance of our mission and dwell on the trivial to ease the weight of our growing responsibilities." Soothingly he continued, "Let's take stock of our accomplishments and allow past transgressions to flow beneath the bridge of progress, as the waste of the fish goes unnoticed to the sea."
"For my part, I have only heartening news to report. As I earlier stated, our economic takeover of the U.S. continues unfettered. We have begun the overt phase of our Great Plan. This last few months, our public relations efforts have moved from promoting local acceptance to introducing national awareness and belief in our managerial concepts." He pointed to a large stack of periodicals and continued, "I have brought copies of leading newspapers and weekly magazines which have featured our PR story. From the acceptance of these, we feel justified in anticipating total integration into corporate America, within the next five to ten years."
With an inscrutable look, Ishi cut a slice of lime and tossed back a shot of clear liquid, "Ahhh, Carlos, I must compliment you on this Mescal. I can tell from the worm's grin this was a quality blend."
"Thank you, compadre," beamed Carlos. "I grew the cactus myself and mixed just a dash of peyote to give it bite."
Smoothing back a spectacular mustache, Amad began, "Holding the key to the world's energy resources is a frightening task, but we of the dessert do our best to control the flow of the Earth's blood. Over the last three decades, we have worked exceedingly hard, through our relationships with the international oil cartels, to suppress the growth of any alternate sources of energy. And I am pleased to report we are on track with our part of the Great Plan." He summarized, "The first phase, frightening the oil brokers with threats of totally nationalizing their interests was easy. The next, to make them obvious supporters of the world-wide oil sting went smoothly. And now, although regrettably a little earlier than we had planned, the first 'uncontrolled' flood of the market to force them deep into debt and further solidify our control." Cocking his head to one side, Amad purred, "I can almost hear the cries of the Houston auctioneers from here."
A smug smile played under a great expanse of nostril as he further stated, "Our initial investments in European and U.S. markets continue to grow and though we will not be as far along as our Asian friends, when the time comes, our influence in this arena will be substantial."
"As for my people, the revolution continues," stated Carlos in a matter of fact tone, "we make the fires burn from Nicaragua to Argentina and have nearly the total attention of Mother Russia, the U.S. and even our share of little yellow brothers. No offense, Senor Ishi." Ishi merely nodded over his lime and salt. "They send us advisors, equipment, advisors, money and more advisors. It gets very crowded in our little headquarters."
"I am proud to report that we too are keeping with the time schedule for the Great Plan. We have the world's attention; our hotels arevfilled with journalists all looking for new ways to shock their readers." Carlos smiled at Batutu, "We follow your inspiring lead, my brother. We have sufficient atrocity to insure front pages and always strive to provide something for everyone. We have our hard-core communists, our democratic free-worlders and our peace-loving peasants. But what really keeps everyone guessing is the way we periodically alternate, by country, who gets to be the government and who gets to be the guerilla. Besides always being the one living off the land is bad for morale."
Following Carlos' amusing statements, all eyes turn to the unspoken leader of the steering committee. "My old friends, our hearts should be warmed by such a display of unity and accomplishment," commented Batutu. "I will summarize the advances and integrate our part in the Great Plan. Some forty years ago, we were broken or forgotten people looking up from the depths to see the world powers seemingly controlling heaven and earth, while moving down a path that would destroy us all! Knowing it would be many years before we could begin to exert sufficient influence to halt this obvious outcome, we came together and developed the Great Plan."
Everyone got comfortable in their seats, as children around the fire listening enraptured to a favorite tale.
"The super powers had the advantage of leading this age of world development. But they were also leaders in depleting their natural resources and given time, we knew we could surpass their accomplishments. So, we built a covert union based on the three truths of the new technological age: energy, mineral resources and economic control. Fact one, between us, we had the greatest untapped reservoirs of critical manufacturing resources in the world. Fact two, we controlled the majority of all accessible petroleum fields. And fact three, with the assistance of Ishi's technical/economic expertise, we were destined to change the future." After holding one beat for emphasis, Batutu continued, "But it does no good to inherit dust! We could not sit idly by and let the world powers bring about their own demise without fear for our existence. Thus the need for a tactical diversion which would serve as a pressure valve for super power aggressions."
"It has been a sad thirty years and has cost us much in our brothers' and sisters' lives. But, as the plan belongs to them and their children's children, I know they have already forgiven us."
Each had a look of remembering as silence joined heat in holding the moment.
He continued, "By providing them with many 'low-intensity' wars, we have allowed the super powers to feel as though they were continuing the fight for their blind ideologies. When in fact, we let them kill our young because we could not allow their irrational pride to kill us all."
"And, our strategy provided an equally important bonus. The money, time and manpower being invested in maintaining our 'little wars' has helped to cripple the U.S.S.R. economically and the U.S. politically. It was certainly an unexpected bonus. Who would have thought when we started that the Titans would have such exploitable weaknesses?"
Shaking a silver topped head, Batutu continued. "It was in recognition of the opportunities provided by these weaknesses that we are radically adjusting our Plan. We would have originally waited many generations for change, now we plan for tomorrow!"
"The Soviets are being starved into defeat by harassment wars which extend across all of their vast borders. They have built an egg shell society surrounded by self-delusion, militant paranoia and xenophobia. Their incredible penchant for multiple neurosis has kept us from making any significant political or economic inroads, but no matter, they have done our work for us. Their massive military arms are held aloft on a feeble frame. At the proper moment, we will interdict a few critical supply chains and these mighty arms will collapse under their own weight. Once released from that terrible overburden, the people will join us in the New Age."
"As for the Americans, it is an easy task to control their political leaders, through their corporate managers. With a good video and a catchy theme song, we will have them believing they lead the new order. And before any of the 'super' powers realize nuclear domination is only an empty hand, we will have implemented the final phase of our Great Plan."
Lighting a long, dark, hand-rolled cigar, Batutu smiled for the first time this day and said, "My brothers, I remember the first time we met in this little hut and dreamed of the changes to come. Carlos, you were but a lad, unsure of your place and yet so controlled in your actions. Amad, the fire in your eye would have made one of your camels swallow his spit. And Ishi, my old friend, such a combination of raw talent and huge appetites. We all knew, so long ago, that the only possible future for the world was as a united people. One world, with childish, self-destructive nationalism removed."
"The new Age of Man, where ethnic and racial differences will be preserved merely to encourage culinary variety and intriguing vacation objectives. Where the resources of the world will be appropriately utilized and distributed for the betterment of all people. What difference capitalism, socialism, democracy or communism, each has its advantages and shortcomings, and each will find application in our New Age. We do not plan world domination, only world release. The common man does not care how his brother chooses to live, as long as his own days are peaceful and rewarding. It is the few herd leaders who sustain the image of a deadly difference to protect their positions. By exploiting the blind sides of these leaders, ours will be a comparatively peaceful evolution," finished Batutu.
"But before we return to our families, remember this, as it is the most important factor in our struggle. No one, outside of our inner circles, must know of the existence of The Plan! For if the super powers or our own 'leaders' realized that we only pretend to embrace their outmoded, nationalistic goals, they would turn on us. Then the world would truly relive the dark ages." With deep conviction, Batutu concluded, "We must castrate the great bulls without their knowledge and complete our plan before we allow the world to know how long history was in the making."
With that final remark, they all slowly rose and without a backward glance, filed into the blazing sunlight and their waiting limousines.
© 1987 Dale R. Brown
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