August 8, 2031 AD, Organización de Intereses del Yucatán Headquarters, Mérida, Mexico, Earth
By now, he had been sitting outside Chairman Castillo’s office for more than half an hour.
Elijah Carter was starting to become irritated. It wasn’t like the Chairman to keep him waiting like this. Despite their professional disagreements in the past, the leader of the Yucatán Interest Organization had always treated the United States Special Envoy with respect.
But not today. Carter’s staff had informed the OIY that the United States diplomatic delegation was prepared to deliver the President’s response to the Yucatán Interest Organization’s ultimatum, and the two sides had agreed upon a time when Carter would meet with Chairman Castillo.
That had been thirty-eight minutes ago.
It was now late, and the sun had set several hours earlier. Each time Carter came to Mérida, he found himself surprised by the warmth of the tropical night, but this time the heat and humidity truly felt oppressive, as if the atmosphere itself were trying to strangle him. Then there were the sounds, the squeaking chorus of croaking frogs and chirping insects that filled the air, as if nature itself was accusing him of crimes he didn’t know he had committed.
“The Chairman will see you now, sir.”
Carter looked up at the security guard who had come to retrieve him, a massive beast of a man with short black hair and a meticulously trimmed goatee.
“Thank you. What was the reason for the delay?”
The guard didn’t answer Carter’s question. The man was clearly a professional, but while his silence wasn’t exactly rude, it was obvious from his body language that he harbored no fondness for the American diplomat.
When Carter entered Chairman Castillo’s marble office, the security guard followed him inside, joining the second guard already in the room. The two uniformed men took up positions on opposing sides of the wide wooden door.
That was unusual, Carter thought, and more than a little ominous. José Manuel Castillo had always surrounded himself with bodyguards. There was nothing strange about that. Like most world leaders, his life was intrinsically linked to the stability of his nation, and he had to be protected not just for his own sake, but also to avoid the chaos that always followed an assassination attempt. For the same reason, the American delegation had its own bodyguards.
But every time they had spoken in the past, Se?or Castillo had always kept his guards waiting outside the chamber. Out of respect for the Chairman, Carter had responded in kind, and he had never felt any reason to regret that choice.
This time, the mood in the room was very different.
Carter could feel it the second he stepped over the threshold. Almost without thinking, he slipped back into the formality of their first meetings. Gone was the sincere, though strained, cordiality the two men had developed over the past years.
“Take a seat, Mr. Carter,” the Chairman said, indicating the chair with his hand. “I understand you have brought me your President’s response to our demands.”
The American diplomat sat down in the embroidered chair, as he had done so many times before.
Something was different.
At first, Carter couldn’t figure out what it was. It was more than just a general feeling of unease. Whatever had changed was physical, tangible, and yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Put his finger on…
Without thinking, he plucked with his left thumb and index finger at the loose thread on the armrest.
It wasn’t there.
He looked up at the wide panoramic windows to his left. The wide, clean panoramic windows. The bird droppings that had stained them during their last meeting were now gone. He wasn’t surprised to find that the dying potted palm in the corner of the Chairman’s office had been replaced with a new one, green and strong and vibrant.
And on the floor, not a speck of dust was to be found anymore.
Shrugging to shake off the feeling that he had stepped into the lair of a monster lying in wait to devour him, Carter composed himself and began to deliver the President’s response.
“The United States of America categorically rejects all claims and demands brought forth by the Yucatán Interest Organization and its members. The President is once more affirming his dedication to protecting the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the United States. Any attempt by citizens of the member nations of the OIY to cross the border will be interpreted as an act of aggression and will be dealt with as such, swiftly and harshly.”
For a long time, Chairman Castillo said nothing. Then he placed both his hands on top of the dark wood of his expensive desk, interlocked his fingers, and leaned forward toward Carter.
“I expected that would be his response, Mr. Carter. But there was always hope he would see reason. I am sorry to hear he did not.”
Trying to shatter the image of strength the Chairman was attempting to project, Carter decided to bring up the latest intelligence he had received from the CIA while he had waited for the meeting to begin.
“Your position is more precarious than you seem to realize, Se?or Castillo. Threatening the United States of America from a position of weakness is a very dangerous thing to do, and some of your member states are beginning to understand that. I have it on very good authority that your organization is starting to fracture. As we speak, Brazil is actively looking for other regional partners more closely aligned with its interests. If even your strongest member nation is unwilling to risk conflict with the United States, why should we listen to your threats?”
The look on Chairman Castillo’s face made it evident that the man was annoyed by Carter’s knowledge of the internal strain within the Yucatán Interest Organization. Well, they should have expected the United States to know, he thought. A rift as large as that couldn’t easily be kept secret, and the CIA was very good at its job.
“The Organización de Intereses del Yucatán is not in the habit of forcing policies onto its member states. Their participation is voluntary. While I regret that Brazil has chosen to part ways with us, their exit does not change the resolve of the states that remain. If anything, I would say it only strengthens the need for us to stand up to protect the lives of our citizens.”
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So much for exposing the cracks in the fa?ade. Privately, Carter understood the Chairman’s reasoning. Brazil leaving the OIY didn’t, in any practical way, affect the security of the remaining countries. They weren’t under threat from a nation or an army, but rather from starvation, disease, overheating, and the breakdown of society due to the collapsing climate. Whether Brazil was part of the Yucatán Interest Organization or not made no difference on those issues. The only thing that had changed was that the remaining nations would now have to fight even harder to get their voices heard. He feared the outcome of the President’s hard stance. Pushing a wounded animal into a corner while you’re locked inside its cage could be dangerous indeed.
“That said,” the Chairman continued, “we are not here to talk about Brazil. You are, of course, free to discuss your concerns directly with them, but whatever course of action you choose to take in regard to your relations with the Federative Republic of Brazil has no bearing on the rest of us.”
“Understood, Se?or Chairman. I will take your stance on that back to the President. If that is all…?”
Carter began to rise from his chair, but the bulky security guard who was standing beside the door stepped forward to make it clear that the American diplomat wasn’t allowed to leave yet. For the first time since he had begun meeting with Chairman Castillo all those years ago, Carter started to regret not bringing his own bodyguards with him into the room.
“One more thing, Mr. Carter,” the Chairman said, motioning him to sit down again. “In anticipation of your President’s response to our demands, I spent the afternoon consulting with the heads of state of our member nations.”
So that’s why the meeting had been delayed, Carter thought. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place.
“I will be frank with you, Mr. Carter. The discussion we had was heated, and as you have already noted, the decision we eventually reached was not unanimous. However, other than the President of Brazil, the remaining heads of state have authorized me to present to you the following outcome in response to your anticipated rejection of our demands. As of midnight tonight, Mérida time, the Organización de Intereses del Yucatán will be dissolved.”
Of all the things the Chairman could have said, this was the least expected. For a moment, Carter sat dumbstruck, unable to find words. But before he could open his mouth to compliment the Chairman on the OIY’s decision to abandon their claims, Castillo spoke up again.
“Effective midnight, the remaining nations of the former Organización de Intereses del Yucatán will formally establish the Alianza del Yucatán—the Yucatán Alliance—with the stated objective of forcing the United States of America to accept climate refugees from its member countries.
“Let me be clear on the purpose of the Alliance, so your President does not misunderstand us. We do not wish the United States any harm, and our door is always open for diplomacy. However, the combined armed forces of the Alianza del Yucatán now stand ready to protect the lives of our citizens as they begin to migrate north.”
Carter swallowed. When he spoke, his voice quivered.
“Is that a formal declaration of war, Se?or Chairman? My apologies. How do you want to be addressed now, Se?or Castillo?”
“I am still Chairman of the Organización de Intereses del Yucatán until midnight. After that, you can address me as Secretary General of the Alianza del Yucatán. That is a civilian position, equivalent to my former role in the OIY. I am not a military man.
“And no, Mr. Carter, that is not a declaration of war. It is a statement of intent. There is always room for diplomacy.”
Carter rose from his velvet chair again, and this time no one stopped him. Behind him, the security guards opened the doors for him as he began to leave the room.
When he crossed the threshold and walked into the hallway outside, he heard the voice of Chairman Castillo call to him from within the confines of his office.
“Elijah,” the Chairman said, his voice quivering as he spoke. “Please be careful out there.”
Carter looked around, trying to find his bodyguards. They should have been waiting for him outside the Chairman’s office, but other than the OIY security officers present, the hallway was empty.
The large guard who had followed him out of Chairman Castillo’s office stepped up to him and offered Carter his hand.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Carter,” the man said as they shook hands, “but in light of the deteriorating relations between us, your bodyguards have been confined to the diplomatic compound. Should hostilities break out between our two blocs, we can’t have United States security personnel roaming freely within the headquarters of the Alianza del Yucatán. They’d effectively be enemy combatants operating within our primary command post.
“My name is Carlos Moreno. For the time being, I’ll be in charge of your security.”
The South American paused for a moment.
“Do you have any family, Mr. Carter?”
He looked up at the intensely focused face of the security guard. “A wife and a daughter, Mr. Moreno. Back in Oklahoma.”
“Very good, Mr. Carter. Stay with me, and you’ll get to see them again. That’s a promise.”
The two of them walked out into the warm Mexican night to cross the open courtyard that separated the Chairman’s office from the diplomatic compound. Behind them, Carter could see more than one OIY security guard keeping an eye on him, but with the exception of Mr. Moreno, they all stayed at a distance.
Carter didn’t know what to think. Was he a hostage, or was the OIY guard now shadowing his every step being honest about his intention to protect him? The American diplomat had previous experience working in war zones, and he didn’t panic, but he could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his body as they walked through the night. If anything, the ambiguity of the situation made it worse. When you operated within enemy territory, you knew everyone you met from the opposing side was your adversary. But here, he had to continuously assess every word, every smile, and every movement to determine whether it was truly meant to be friendly or if it signaled some hidden danger.
They had just reached the walkway outside the diplomatic compound, covered by a tiled roof held up by sparse stone pillars and surrounded by green bushes growing from large, brown clay pots, when a shout from the other side of the wall separating the compound from the street beyond caught his attention.
Moreno held out his arm to stop him while simultaneously drawing his gun.
“What’s going on?”
Tilting his head, the security guard listened carefully to the angry voices that followed the shout.
“I don’t know,” he finally told the diplomat. “But it’s not good.”
Suddenly, Carter noticed a small light sailing through the star-filled sky overhead. At first, he couldn’t make sense of it.
Without warning, Moreno’s muscular body slammed into Carter with the force of a rhino, pushing him out of the way. The weak flame flying through the night crashed into the stone floor of the courtyard where he had just been standing, as the sound of breaking glass filled the air. The inferno that followed put the object into context, as the blaze from the Molotov cocktail set one of the potted plants aflame.
“Go, go, go!” the security guard shouted as he dragged Carter back onto his feet. The American diplomat began to run but slipped on the smoothly polished stones of the walkway. Mr. Moreno stopped and offered his own body as a shield, protecting Carter from the raging fire while he desperately tried to regain his balance. Out on the street, he could now hear gunfire.
The large security guard partly dragged, partly pushed the American envoy into the doorway of the diplomatic compound, where his own bodyguards were waiting under the strict supervision of a team of armed OIY security guards.
“Stand down,” Mr. Moreno ordered his men as he approached them. “Let the Americans go. What’s happening?”
“A few minutes ago, a group of men gathered in the street outside, demanding that we turn the Americans over to them. Don’t know whether the Chairman leaked information about the breakdown in relations to them and this is all part of his plan, or if it’s just a group of people who are here to spontaneously express their frustration with the United States.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Moreno said. “Our job is to protect lives. Right now, it’s the lives of Mr. Carter and his team that are endangered, so that’s who we will be guarding. At the moment, they’re officially civilians, whether this is Chairman Castillo’s plan or not.”
It would be a long night, Carter realized, and the world he would be facing in the morning would be very different indeed.
He only hoped he would still be around to see it.
Lords of the Stars stories!
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