Another noble eyed him suspiciously. “You were the ones holding the guns.”
“Someone had to take charge. It’s a long story.” Manco hurried on. “My brother and I have made it our life’s work to try and restore something of our Inca heritage. It has been a long time since any of your people were on Earth. You are going to need guides, advice, assistance.”
“You were brought here,” the noble said sternly, “to answer questions. Not to offer unsolicited help.”
“Of course,” agreed Manco hastily, backing off. “I didn’t mean to offend. Did we, Blanco?” His brother shook his head violently. “I was just thinking that if you go ahead with these plans, well, my brother and I are Inca, and you’re Inca, and maybe we could help one another achieve our respective desires. I was wondering about one thing, though. Where is the emperor?”
The nobles relaxed and a few smiled tolerantly. “We have not been governed by an emperor for more than a hundred years,” the first speaker informed them. “Emperors lost us our empire, our land, and our freedom. When we came here and listened to the advice of the learning machines, we did away with such anachronisms.” He gestured around the table. “This is the government of Contisuyu, contentious as it may appear. You see that we have not only progressed in matters scientific.”
“You really think you can impose your will and take revenge on the descendants of your conquerors?” the soft-drink bottler inquired.
The red-clad noble whom Manco had come to think of as a military officer replied. “Among the devices and designs left to us by Those-Who-Came-Before are many which, while not intended to be used as weapons, can certainly be adapted for use as such. We do not know how far military science has advanced on Earth in our absence, but I believe we can construct weaponry which the descendants of our conquerors cannot defend against. Our attack will be many-faceted and well conceived.”
“That’s very interesting,” Manco agreed. “What are you thinking of doing? Taking back control of the lands our ancestors lost to the Spaniards? Restoring the empire?”
“That might be an eventual aim,” one of the nobles agreed.
“But the Spanish don’t run any part of South America anymore,” said Blanco Fernández.
“Nothing at all?” The military noble frowned. “Another of your party said as much.”
“He was telling the truth. It’s all independent.”
“How many countries?”
Manco responded when his brother hesitated. “Thirteen. They’ve fought against each other ever since the Spanish left, and they’d be a lot better off if a greater power forcibly unified them.” Eager opportunism lent strength to his suggestion. “Someone like you people, for example.
“They all still share the common Spanish heritage … except for the Brazilians, of course.”
“Ah yes,” murmured another noble. “That ridiculous Treaty of Tordesillas. It would be appropriate for us to put that to right.”
“What then of those who destroyed our lands and enslaved our ancestors?” asked the man in red.
“Spain is still a strong European country,” Manco informed them.
“It does not matter.” The noble looked satisfied. “We will crush them.” He narrowed his gaze. “Do not think to enhance your own position with lies. We still do not trust any of you.”
Manco was not intimidated. He knew how to handle himself in such confrontations. After all, business was business. “Trust comes with confirmation, and with time.”
Murmurs of approval came from several of the assembled.
“We’ll help you all we can,” Manco added. “If you decide to unify South America and you need somebody local to help you run things, my brother and I would reluctantly sacrifice our own careers to assist in that difficult task.” Blanco nodded eagerly.
“In fact, we have some plans of our own which might dovetail exactly with what you have in mind. We’d planned to expand our own interests eventually, of course, but with your help we could do so a lot sooner.”
“You have not been brought here to discuss your plans.” Manco immediately subsided.
The military noble regarded his colleagues. “It is our destiny. Our ancestral dead cry out for vengeance. First we will subjugate the Spain of our conquerors, then return just rule to the lands of our ancestors.”
“It may not be as easy as you think,” Manco said hesitantly. “Political allegiances have changed a lot in the two hundred years since you’ve been away. Spain is allied with the rest of Europe in an organization called the European Economic Community. It includes the French, the English, all the rest.”
“But not these Americans and the Russians?”
“No, not really, but—”
The noble cut him off. “Then we will conquer Europe. If these other lands are foolish enough to ally themselves with the hated Spanish, they too will suffer.”
“Hold on a moment,” said an anxious Manco. Things were getting out of hand. “Unifying South America is one thing, conquering Europe another. Taking control of Germany is a tougher proposition than imposing your will on Paraguay.”
The noble was not to be moved. “We will do what is necessary. If we agree to make use of your advice, what reward would you expect?”
Manco glanced at his brother, looked back at the expectant nobles. “Well, it’s always been a dream of my brother and me to develop entertainment facilities to promote the culture of our people. If you granted us control of that kind of business we’d be quite content.”
“Everyone would have to go to our parks, ride our rides, eat our fast food,” Blanco said.
“Watch our television and our movies. Listen to our radio. Drink Inca Cola. Even,” Manco concluded in the hushed tones one usually reserved for speaking in church, “Disney!” He retreated from his dreams long enough to ask an awkward question. “Of course, if there’s going to be a long war in which millions of potential customers are killed …”
“There will be no long war,” Apu Tupa assured him. “Do you still think us as uncivilized as our ancestors? Everything will be done quickly, before the Europeans realize what has happened to them. In addition to employing our own weapons, we can render theirs inoperative. They will have no choice but to submit.”
“This proposal is still under debate,” another noble reminded everyone. “We must decide.”
“Yes,” said another sharply. “In the traditional manner.”
Apu Tupa looked thoughtful. “It has been a while since that was required.”
Manco Fernández was suddenly uneasy. “How do you decide things ‘in the traditional manner’?”
“It is a formality,” Apu Tupa told him. “Nothing of any great concern. We merely reenact our ancestors’ decision-making procedures. That involves discussion among learned nobles, ongoing debate, and human sacrifice.” He smiled paternally. “As self-proclaimed defenders of the ancient culture I should think you would be aware of this.”
