Melinda looked fantastic. She was wearing a custom dress from a local designer who had been trapped in their base when the military surrounded them. They had given the woman a place to live and space to open a shop, and she had been very busy since then. With over thirty customers trapped at the Spa, these wealthy guests would have been very unhappy wearing the same outfits during their extended stay. The designer had a brisk business with customers willing to pay far more than she would have dreamed of charging, and she had recruited a couple of teenage assistants who were children of some of the construction workers. Melinda’s dress was on the house. The Genysis leadership all had their bank accounts frozen, but it didn’t stop any of the owners from writing IOUs, and the Proteus businesses passed these around as a form of alternate currency.
In addition to the dress, Melinda had spent over an hour getting her hair and makeup perfect. She had an ageless beauty thanks to multiple rounds of skin smoothing and facial structuring. Objectively, she could be compared to a woman in her twenties, but it was hard to miss the confidence that usually only came from decades of experience. She didn’t need much makeup, but she wore a wide brimmed hat to cover up a patch of missing hair on the back of her head. A recent surgery had allowed Melinda the ability to override a symptom of her unique mental condition and speak normally, at least for a few minutes, before a headache would build. It worked like an internal democracy. If most of her personalities were willing to give up control, one could dominate the part of her brain which controlled speech. She could even last for more than a few minutes if she switched between her aspects, and she had hopes that over time the headaches would lessen. Melinda retained her capacity to effortlessly multitask by phone or computer when she reverted to her natural behavior and allowed the computer to unscramble her rapid switching.
The effort to look good was not purely vanity. Today she was meeting with Yucatán’s Governor Conde. Melinda had insisted since the beginning of the standoff that he was the only Mexican government official she would talk with. The government in Mexico City had not been pleased and thought they could bully her into surrendering weeks ago. Mexico’s plan had failed badly so far.
The Mexican Navy had received stern warnings followed by minor holes added to their hulls whenever they got too close. Anyone could tell that the blockade could be broken easily if Proteus stopped showing restraint. On land, the army had surrounded their walled beach house property, but artillery and tanks had been dismantled by robots which sprang from the jungle whenever they came within five miles of the house. The army spent most of their time facing away from the property as several large camps of hopeful immigrants waited outside wanting to get in. Social media from inside Proteus had made it clear the residents had housing, jobs and were eating quite well. A number of people, who would have normally migrated to the US, had decided this looked like a better option. It was kind of embarrassing to the Mexican military that they were effectively performing border control duties for Proteus.
The tunnel to Xibalba was passable now, and the military had not yet bothered to add the new pyramids they were building to the blockade. Some of the employees even made a game of going outside and handing out food to the hopeful immigrants waiting outside the military cordon. One little brat had rolled a taco cart through and sold lunches to the soldiers before returning the long way to Proteus. There were six miles of winding, unfinished tunnel, but the kid was now a legend among the teenagers who lived in the base. The little snots would probably try to outdo each other until the military caught on, so Melinda hoped her meeting today would be able to settle things.
The Governor met with Melinda on one of the covered patios overlooking the pool. They had to clear out some disgruntled Spa clients, but most people understood that this was important.
“You look amazing!” Victor Conde, Governor of Yucatán, gushed. “I almost didn’t recognize you. My wife has been begging me to sort this mess out, so she can get back to your Spa. She will be so jealous when I tell her how gorgeous you are.”
“Oh, it’s a shame you didn’t bring Claudia. Please give her my compliments and tell her the next treatment is no charge if she can talk you into ending this silly blockade.”
Victor frowned. “You know perfectly well I am strongly opposed to this foolishness. Those idiots in Mexico City are trying to ruin the best thing that happened to our country since independence.”
They switched to small talk for a bit while waiting on their food. The meal was prepared personally by Chef Ludwig, a last minute addition to the group that emigrated from Poland once he realized his best customers were leaving. Since arriving, he had found a willing business partner with Angela and had improved his skills significantly with Glitch_HR. Teaming up with one of the cafeteria workers, they had managed to program robots to prep ingredients and wash dishes. His food was a mix of Polish and French cooking styles, and his restaurant was usually overrun by the rich Spa foodies. Once a week, he’d kick out the rich people and only serve his fellow immigrants from Bialystock at a heavily discounted price.
Victor moaned softly after taking a bite of herb crusted meat. “This is exceptional. You are under siege and eating better than I do in the city.”
“Yes, our agriculture is coming along nicely. The chef will be happy to hear you enjoyed the dish. Our chefs were worried about running out of ingredients, but we’re pretty well stocked again now.”
“Ah, I was hoping to delay that unpleasantness. Again, I personally find their treatment of you disgusting,” Governor Conde stalled. Melinda gestured for him to get on with it.
“Right, so they demand that you hand over control of all your robots and grant inspectors full access to your property. Furthermore, your employees will mostly be sentenced to serve a short time in jail, but the owners will be deported to the United States to face treason charges. My understanding is that it means the death penalty if you are convicted.” Victor looked very uncomfortable having to pass on this news.
“Well, their opening offer is terrible.” Melinda laughed, “They are clearly detached from reality. I’ll give you a counteroffer. I want to be Queen of my own underwater country, and I’d be happy to help Yucatán get their independence, and you can be President. Our properties on land will pay taxes and follow your rules. Underwater or on any artificial islands we build are in my domain.”
Governor Conde was stunned. He had expected Melinda to be defiant when presented with the ridiculous demands, but she was going so much further.
“Before you answer, you probably want to look at this.” Melinda had stalled a bit before dropping the bomb, then she handed a tablet to the Governor.
On screen, a camera showed a line of robots flanking the Mexican troops surrounding their beach house. These were modified mining robots with heavy flechette rifles and railguns standing over seven feet tall and with obvious armor plating. Around their feet were hundreds of the wicked insect robots. These were roughly the size of a dog but bristling with bladed legs and stared with sinister intent. A few soldiers opened fire ineffectively. The big robots announced a warning that soldiers should put their weapons down. Conde could hear an order from someone to open fire.
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The insects swarmed with rapid movement, limbs flashing and spraying blood as soldiers were knocked to the ground. The big robots opened fire and rows of soldiers went down.
“Our robots are firing rubber coated pellets. It took us several days to get those working with the flechettes or else we would have cleared you guys out earlier. Hopefully most of your soldiers survive, but that was really dumb of them to attack. Oh yeah, this one is good too.” Melinda switched to a different tab, which showed several naval ships running low in the water as the crew exited in lifeboats.
Victor Conde had suspected the blockade was not actually holding Melinda’s people in. The national government had not shared details of why they were keeping their distance, but his people had told him about the broken tanks and artillery. He realized Melinda could have crushed their forces at any time but were likely just taking their time to coordinate with other plans.
“So, I guess I am your prisoner now?” Victor asked.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Melinda laughed, but she couldn’t hold his gaze and looked down at her empty plate. “I wanted us to be partners.”
“This is just very surprising to me. Can I just leave and go discuss this with my family and some advisers?” Victor blushed a bit. Had he been secretly excited about being a prisoner here?
“Sure, I’ll have someone walk you out. I’m sure I’ll be busy for a few hours after this display of force.”
Victor was escorted outside the walled compound. Once the gates opened, he heard sounds of scattered weapons fire and a fair number of moans and screams. The soldier walking him out was wearing some kind of ceramic armor and seemed unconcerned about the battle going on outside.
“Sorry sir, we’ll return the car you came in once the situation is secured. We can give you a lift to Merida in an air truck, but figured you’d want to talk to your troops before you left.”
“They aren’t my troops.” Conde said, feeling a bit sick. He saw a group of people going around giving medical aid to the fallen soldiers. Many were being loaded onto those flying air trucks and transported out to sea, where he knew Proteus was located. The Colonel in charge of the Mexican soldiers was sitting in a folding chair with a robot insect about three feet away standing still, but staring right at him.
“Sir, these rebels are going to pay for this!” The man said. Victor recognized his voice as the idiot who had ordered the troops to open fire.
“Colonel, you caused a lot of suffering here today for no reason!” Victor was clenching his fists. “You are suspended until further notice. Who is the next highest officer?”
A skinny man in his twenties spoke up. “Captain Lazaro here, sir. They are taking all the injured soldiers prisoner. Some of our men escaped into the jungle.” He looked nervously at the armored soldier standing casually next to the Governor.
“Can I ask you how you feel about this operation, Captain?” Conde asked. “Please be honest.”
The Captain’s eyes darted nervously, looking like he might also want to make a break for the jungle. “Um, sorry sir. My job is to follow the Colonel’s orders, sir.”
“Listen, I understand you were just doing your job. This was a complete disaster, but what would you have done differently?” the Governor asked.
“Well sir, when those robots tore apart our tanks and artillery, it was pretty clear they could have killed us all. They seemed to be taking care to minimize casualties. I’ve gone up against some cartels, and they would have just butchered us if they had that kind of advantage.” Captain Lazaro looked pale, and Conde worried he would pass out.
“Did they tell you this was a cartel? I’m personal friends with the owners of this property and was a vocal opponent of this stupidity.” Governor Conde was losing a bit of control of his anger now.
“Yes sir. They said this cartel was stealing our resources and using our citizens as slaves.” Captain Lazaro answered nervously.
“So, did you believe this?”
“No sir. The robot attacks and immigrants begging to get inside made that story seem very unlikely. There is crazy stuff on the internet about this place, so I didn’t know what to believe. Sir” Captain Lazaro seemed to be relaxing a little bit now that the Governor wasn’t blaming him personally for this mess.
“Thank you. Why don’t you take your men back to whatever base is home and wait for further orders.”
----------------------------------------
“Hey, was there some kind of battle outside?” Matt asked. He was in Proteus reading through status updates for his game company. He split his time between CEO training and keeping all the groups working in the same direction, but the project had made good progress since meeting with his friends.
“I don’t know. I heard Melinda had a date with Governor Conde today,” Scott answered. “Why would they attack when he was here? I’d call her, but she can hold a conversation now and probably wouldn’t want me to interrupt her. I’ll give Carl a call.”
“You talk to Carl now? I thought you said he was a jerk and an idiot.” Matt looked surprised.
“Yeah, I guess we bonded on the last mission. He is a jerk, but I think it’s how he copes with tense situations. Carl’s kind of funny sometimes, and now he pesters Theofanis for his upgrade ideas.” Scott explained. He dialed Carl’s number.
“Hey Scott! Crazy battle right?” Carl answered.
“What happened? Are we getting attacked?” Scott sat up straight, alarmed.
“Nah, we attacked them. Battle was over in about a minute. I just spent fifteen minutes hauling dummies into the hospital.” Carl said, blowing out a breath.
“Was anyone I know injured?” Scott asked. Anything short of death they could probably fix, right?
“Just their guys. We only attacked with robots. Hah! You guys are really out of it, playing around with video games while World War 3 is starting outside.” Carl teased.
Scott decided to check his phone to see what the news was saying. There was a breaking story about a group of Texans declaring independence and taking over a small town. Nothing yet about this part of Mexico.
He took a trip to the medical center. There were makeshift cots all the way out into the hall and in a storage area next door. Hundreds of injured soldiers, heavily bandaged and many had IVs attached. He saw Elsa and some other Spa workers moving quickly, checking people and occasionally injecting something or spraying glue on wounds. Scott made a quick retreat, not wanting to get in their way.
He received a call from his dad.
“Hey Scott, that was crazy, right?” Bill Henderson said.
“How did everyone know about this war except me? I’m supposed to be an owner around here.” Scott complained.
“Um, I don’t know,” Mr. Henderson sounded puzzled. “Well, I was on standby ready to help anyone who was trapped on those Navy ships or if they had trouble with lifeboats. It went pretty well, but their Navy is down a Destroyer, two Frigates and some patrol boats. They are going to go nuts when they hear about it.”
“I’m glad you’re safe. I guess they didn’t fire on us?”
“Well sort of. They shot a few missiles, but the point defense lasers hit them before they could damage our docks. I’m loading up cargo right now. We’re delivering a full shipment to Cuba, and the other ship is going to Venezuela. It’s weird being on the same side as those communists. I guess we need the business, so I’m just going to captain my ship and leave the decisions to the boss.” Scott’s dad seemed amused that he was finally able to work again, even if it was trading with countries they had been taught were enemies.
“Hey Dad, please stay safe. The US might attack your ship.” Scott said, suddenly worried.
“Yeah, it’s possible. We added a lot of weapons and robots, so they’ll have to come at us hard, or we’ll send them running.” Bill seemed happy about the thought of getting attacked. “Besides, it’s a really quick trip. Much easier than going to the States. Hey, I know you’re worried. It seems completely crazy to go to war against these huge countries, but I think that Nadia lady knows what she’s doing. Your software picked her, so have a little faith.”
Now that was a scary thought. Scott knew better than anyone that his software sometimes made mistakes.