by John Hunt
“I’ll do whatever it takes! We need to keep it all under wraps though, Petur. I don’t want many people to know.”
“What’s the problem? Why the need for secrecy?”
Joseph scratched his ear. “Petur, you don’t see it, do you? You don’t understand what that sphere is.”
Petur thought about it. “It is some sort of ancient island artifact which has special, perhaps magical, features. But possibly it is just a hoax the kings played on the people of Tahiti for untold generations. Perhaps they used this so-called magic as a means to retain control over the people. In that time and place, they would attribute an unexplained event to the gods, after all. And the same hoax tricked Captain Cook and the British Admiralty.”
“But Petur, there is no way that this could have been faked. That young midshipman wrote in detail about how there was no way that the line could have been tied to the sphere. And I doubt they would be able to develop a much more technically challenging technique than that. No, this was not a magic trick.”
“Then how about a fake story altogether? That midshipman, John Carver, could have made up the whole story. Who knows why?
“Perhaps Petur, but the circumstantial evidence suggests otherwise, as I told you before. The whole voyage of the Bounty was contrived just to get the sphere. You felt it in your heart before. You know that the Bounty is here, right off these islands.”
“Maybe. Probably. But I’d rather not get hopes too high. And even if we find it, the sphere may not be aboard.”
“Yes, you’re right, Petur. In fact the whole chest may have been taken off.” Joseph stood in silence for a moment, and then spoke heatedly, but quietly. “Petur, if it is real, this sphere harnesses the knowledge for combating gravity! Do you understand what that means? It means we can get off this planet without rockets, without consuming tons of energy! The device itself could be a massive new source of the wealth that you strive for. And ready access to space will, in the end, provide the ultimate access to wealth. This may be the path by which you accomplish your goal of paying down the debts to the future foisted upon us by central banking. I think we should go for it.”
Petur immediately replied, “If you pay for it all, well then, let’s do it!”
Joseph laughed, pulled his pipe from a pocket of his shorts, and a bag of tobacco from another. “I thought you’d see it my way.”
The committee finally finished its deliberations and the hundred-odd Hashers gathered round to sing tributes to the newly named crowd. Each neophyte was given grog of one sort or another with which to baptize him- or herself, and each did so with gaiety while being regaled with humorous verse. Joseph received his new name as if it was a complete surprise, guzzling an entire bottle of beer like it was lemonade while the tuneful crowd boisterously told him in song that he ought to go fester and rot after being tied to a piss-pot.
The language, verse, and humor were not for the faint of heart. But despite the crudity, innuendoes, blunt remarks, and outright obscenity, none of the humor was ever at anyone’s expense. This was a group of politically incorrect human beings, and Petur therefore loved them all. He looked around the throng, trying to pick out a face from among the crowd. He was hoping to start a conversation about the insanity of political correctness with Isaac, but Isaac was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Petur had not seen him since coming into the On In. He was suddenly worried. Could the old man be lying on the side of the path somewhere? Despite his recently improved habitus, Lewd and Lascivious did not lead a very healthy life. Maybe he had retreated to the pool with those women he had found. Perhaps he had hitched a ride on a golf cart back to his home, and was now sitting on his front porch sipping a rum Collins. But Petur had a feeling that Isaac was doing none of these things. Something else had prevented him from finishing the run.
31. Intent to Nationalize
SLIPPING AWAY FROM the frolicking band of Hashers was not difficult, and Petur bade farewell to the newly christened Bounty Hunter after they promised that they would meet soon to discuss this new adventure in which they would seek a sunken treasure. He wondered if he had supported Joseph’s crazy treasure hunt because of the beer and the fun he had with Joseph’s new Hash name. Sometimes small and irrelevant things change the course of a person’s history. He walked back along the trail he had just run, following the splotches of flour in reverse, hoping to not see any sign of Isaac, his friend and mentor, lying uncomfortably just off the path. He knew he was just paranoid, but nonetheless he felt compelled to make this trip.
Since he was walking, not running, he was able to appreciate the trail more. He had time to look at the blossoming tropical white flowers that carpeted the forest floor. Standing above these flowers were abundant species of jungle trees that provided intermittent shade to the small plants below, without completely obscuring the sun. Scattered among this lush landscape were occasional residences. In this area, most of the abodes were one story with large porches. Several had small pools adjacent. They were connected by narrow cart paths that were densely lined with recently planted green leafy shrubs. Less than a year ago, this path was wide enough to allow the construction trucks to pass. Now nobody could discern that this route had ever been anything more than the narrow path it currently was. Vegetation grew rapidly here in Paradise. If they ever abandoned the island, nature would consume everything they had built in just a few short years.
He followed the flour trail through several turns, and across three intersecting paths. He walked around a corner, and suddenly things looked familiar. He had not paid attention during the Hash itself, but now he did. He was on the narrow road leading to Elisa’s small home.
He was ashamed that his worries about Isaac disappeared as thoughts of Elisa took their place.
As he approached the house, he could see two people sitting on the porch. He was still far away, but he could discern that it was Elisa facing him, her hair falling straight down to her shoulders and clinging tightly to her head. She was not wearing her glasses. There was another person, obscured by a large white wicker chair, whose back was to Petur. The two seemed to be deeply involved in a conversation, for Elisa was leaning in close to the person whom Petur could not see.
Elisa became aware of Petur’s imminent arrival. She smiled and waved. Petur picked up his pace toward the front steps. The girl had slipped into the house quickly, and was not on the porch to greet him. Instead, a man rose from the wicker chair and turned around with a beaming smile.
“Petur! How was the rest of the Hash!”
Petur stopped in his tracks, and then laughed, “And to think, I was worried about you, Isaac! You know, I retraced the trail just to see if you were lying dead in the shrubbery somewhere. But no, you are here talking with a woman.”
“You should have known,” Isaac chastised him. “Do you know of anything I prefer more than meeting attractive young women?”
Elisa stepped back out on the porch. She was wearing her glasses now, and had used a rubber band to pull her hair back into a short ponytail. A long blue bathrobe adorned her. She brought three glasses on a tray, each with lemonade.
“Hello again. I wasn’t expecting you. What a pleasant surprise.”
Petur was a little embarrassed and replied, “I was in the area, looking for Isaac actually, and realized I was near your house.”
“Well I am glad you stopped by. Please excuse my appearance, I had just gotten out of the shower when Professor Bonhoff walked up.”
Petur eyed his older friend suspiciously.
“Don’t worry about her chastity, my dear Petur,” intoned Isaac. “I simply got off the trail, and this beautiful woman here coincidentally stepped onto her porch in her bathrobe. I would not be who I am, had I not immediately invited myself up to have a long discussion with her.”
“I should have known you would be just fine.”
Elisa seemed amused by the conversation, and not offended in the least. She handed out the glasses of lemonade, and sat down in a chair. “Pl
ease sit down, gentlemen. Professor Bonhoff and I were talking about Mexico. You might be interested in sticking around for the rest of the conversation. That way we will be able to talk about other things on our dinner engagement tonight.”
“Petur, you are the rogue!” Isaac chortled. “You already have a date with this girl, and you didn’t tell me!”
“Didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“Hmmm.” Isaac whispered to Petur, while Elisa’s back was turned reaching for her glass. “You are fickle.”
Petur assumed that Isaac’s furtive comment alluded to his hunt for the beautiful girl from Amsterdam, a hunt postponed by his desire to stay here with Elisa. Well, Isaac was correct. He was fickle. But this was fun.
Elisa turned back quickly, and drank from her glass. The men did likewise, both enjoying the fresh lemonade. It was better than beer for quenching thirsts after a hot run.
“I was telling the professor that he is almost as well known as you, Petur. Although, he seems better known for his proclivity to seek out female companionship. You have a different reputation.” She was looking at Petur.
“I would not take that as a compliment if I were you, Petur,” Isaac chimed in. “Women like confident men.”
“Confident, handsome, and intelligent men, just like you, Isaac.” Petur had learned to be quick with his repartee.
“Yes,” he nodded, “Just like me.”
Petur spoke to Elisa. “Isaac seems serious, but this is all show. He has transformed the appearance, though not the practice, of womanizing and chauvinism into an endearing part of his character. He is well loved and respected by all, and as a result gets away with statements and actions that would be considered rude and obnoxious were others to perpetrate them. Isaac thinks that politically incorrect comments and deeds are charming when they come from him. Please excuse him.”
Isaac did not seem to be uncomfortable during Petur’s commentary. “So, Mexico was the topic of discussion, was it not?”
“Indeed,” replied Elisa.
“Elisa has just been telling me that she is worried about the stability of the Mexican government. She thinks there is a conspiracy there. Perhaps a dozen men are leading others in a surreptitious effort to bring disrepute to the government, and such an effort would not be particularly difficult. It’s a very interesting and concerning issue.”
“Yes, she gave me a short briefing.” Petur turned toward Elisa. “What new information do you have?”
Elisa pulled herself forward in her seat, and assumed a position that indicated that she would reveal important information. “I am now completely convinced that there is indeed a conspiracy to overthrow the Mexican government. It is beyond doubt. My suspicions, previously based on third-party sources and my analysis of published literature, now have been confirmed.”
Petur inquired, “How have your suspicions been confirmed?”
“I have identified many of the major players. I have dubbed them the Group. They are all wealthy and powerful. Between them, they control the media even more than the government. They run the major corporations, including the oil, textile, and electronics industries. Members of the drug cartels are included in this eclectic group. Perhaps twelve key people in all. They each have scores, perhaps hundreds, of people working for them to disable and topple the government without breaking the rules of the democratic system.”
“Sounds like a political movement, not a conspiracy to overthrow the government.” Petur commented.
Elisa acknowledged this. “Yes, you are right. But it is a conspiracy. This is not the standard political movement where one side attempts to defame the other in open conflict within the standard media channels. This is a well-planned system to topple the government using major-media techniques as well as by developing an undercurrent of popular discontent.”
Isaac noted, “Like a grassroots campaign. Grassroots efforts can be effective, but they hardly constitute a conspiracy.”
“But this is not a grassroots campaign. In fact, it would be better termed a surreptitious campaign. You see, their method of developing an undercurrent of popular discontent consists of an exceedingly well-paid army of individuals whose job it is to enter into the socioeconomic complex throughout Mexico. They work in bars and stores. They have infiltrated the churches, school committees, and anything else that can get them the opportunity to spread their discontent.”
“There are lots of reasons to be discontented within Mexico. What’s the problem with what these guys are doing?” Isaac probed her.
“Despite using the democratic system, and their freedom of speech, this group of people is dedicated to destroying those entities. You see, they figure, rightly, that Mexico has awesome natural resources, a superior climate, a strategic location for trading with both hemispheres, and abundant labor supplies. They think the constant government graft and waste, combined with strong socialist influences, has prevented Mexico from achieving a position of world superiority.”
“Seems like there is something to that,” Isaac interceded, nonchalantly.
“There certainly is. But the same can be said for governments anywhere else — certainly the United States has been adversely affected by government waste. The difference is that in Mexico, a wealthy powerful group has decided to do something about it. They are going to take over the government through the ballot box, by shaming the regime with a terrible defeat. Then, on the wave of popular discontent, most of which they have contrived, they will reform the government. Some of these reforms are very much needed. Others will concentrate power within what will become, essentially, an oligarchy. Mexico will become more powerful as it achieves solid economic gains. But this will occur at the expense of advances in personal freedoms.”
“As long as the oligarchy remains benign, there might be no problems. But power corrupts.”
Elisa nodded her assent. “Exactly, Isaac. Perhaps these people started out with purely benign intentions. They felt compelled to help their country. But even early on in the process, they began to be corrupted: Getting friendly with the drug cartels. Developing and spreading false allegations and contrived stories about the government. The whole enterprise is Machiavellian. It is shockingly similar to how the Nazi party took over Germany in 1933. They have taken ‘the end justifies the means’ to heart. And so you see, they will not remain a benign leadership. Corruption is already present within them, and it will grow.”
Petur remembered that Elisa had told him before she left on her trip that this endeavor was initially formed to combat the corruption within all levels of the Mexican government. Now it had itself been corrupted. Not surprising, really. It seemed that this endeavor was borne in corruption.
He asked, “As an entity, the Island Project has avoided becoming involved in any international disputes, and we do not wish to concern ourselves with internal upheavals within nations. We stay out of trouble in this way. But do you think we need to do something about this process in Mexico? Are we at risk here?”
“I think there is, indeed, substantial risk. Any contracts or treaties which the current government of Mexico signed will be threatened, unless they are in Mexico’s best interest, or at least in the best interest of the impending new leaders. The new government will not hesitate to break contracts and treaties if they were to feel that Mexico was getting the short end of the stick, or if the initial contracts were done solely for the personal benefit of former government officials, or if breaking the contract will benefit them. This latter point is where the Island Project comes in.”
Isaac looked at Petur. Petur was nodding.
“Yes, I suspected that at least some of the lease money for these islands has been lining the pockets of less-than-admirable public officials in Mexico City. I have been meaning to address this, but things were going smoothly, and it hasn’t made it onto my lists of priorities.”
“Regardless, the Island is now a cash-producing asset — already incredibly successful, with a golden future. The new M
exican regime will wish to claim it. And I bet they will.”
“How confident are you that the stars will align in such a way that they will ever be in a position to make such an attempt?” Isaac asked.
Elisa replied, “I am completely confident that the conspiracy is not only underway, but in a quite advanced stage. Many areas in Mexico are primed for revolution, and indeed, the individuals in charge have had to slow events down, for the popular discontent in many areas had grown out of synchrony with the rest of their plan.” She paused and looked directly at Petur. “But soon, all will be in synchrony. The president of Mexico will be tossed out into the cold on a tidal wave, driven by popular opinion. The vice president will take his place, and the changes will begin.”
“The vice president is in on this, then?” asked Isaac.
“I think he must be, although I am not completely certain. He is a flunky, I believe. But he is in the right position, and the others will use him.” She took a sip of her lemonade and sat back in her chair. “To continue answering Petur’s question, after the vice president takes over, there will be radical turnover in the government. People will be tossed out of bureaucratic positions ‘for cause,’ whether or not there actually was cause. There are so many government officials there that are corrupt that any government employee will be considered guilty unless proven otherwise. It will be very easy for the dozen people in charge to repay all the people who had been working for them during the prelude with lucrative and powerful government positions after the power turns over to them. The Group has made promises, and those promises will be kept. Mexico will soon have drug traffickers running parts of the government alongside businessmen.”
“You’re kidding!” Petur was distressed.
“Not at all. I am sure of this. After these initial changes, the Group will continue to have control over almost all of the private mass media, but now they will have complete control of the government television networks and radio as well. There will be few checks on the government activities, and, although not by force of law, freedom of the press will not in fact exist in Mexico. Open propaganda will come into effect after the change in government, just as there has been surreptitious propaganda before the change. Motivational symbols will be used to hold public opinion in their favor, and to encourage the populace to assist with the Group’s efforts. One of those symbols will be the Paradise Islands: Though they belong to Mexico, they have been leased cheaply to an organization composed of men who are, to a great extent at least, gringos. They will make the case for Mexico to take back what is truly and legally theirs. Mexico will renege on their agreement with you, Petur. They will take back these islands, I am sure.”