“The lion lost all his money playing poker with a cheetah,” advised Lieutenant Patton, playing to the crowd and reporters.
“Old Earth vermin pests should have never been allowed to infest New Colorado,” replied the spider commander, sensing somehow Patton was getting the better of their banter. “Insult me at your peril.”
“I may join you later. Don’t lose all your money before I get there. Maybe while we are at it, we can have a friendly contest on who can hold their liquor.”
“That will be another effort at which you human pestilence cannot measure up.”
* * * * *
The spider Military Intelligence officer bought a round of drinks for legionnaires crowded at the bar.
“Have you human pestilence been away from home long?” he asked conversationally. “How was it at the South Pole? Real cold, I bet.”
“We’ve never been to the South Pole,” answered a drunk private. “You bugs can talk?”
“Of course. We are a sentient species, no different from most of you. We have families and long for home, just like you.”
“We are never going home,” griped the private. “I will never see my wife and kids again.”
“Nonsense. You legionnaires may be in for the duration, but we are at peace. We are allies. Of course you can go home to your loved ones.”
“Everyone is dead,” cried the private.
“Shut up!” interrupted a corporal. “Don’t be talking to this bug. Patton says they’re the enemy. Loose lips sink ships!”
“More nonsense,” argued the Military Intelligence officer, pouring everyone another round of vodka. “This is the New Gobi Desert. There is no water or ships for thousands of miles. What did you mean, everyone is dead? I am so sorry. Has there been a natural disaster? Or another war?”
“I don’t care who hears!” shouted the private, defiantly. “We don’t belong in this time.”
“I told you to shut up!” ordered the corporal, slugging the private in the face, knocking him into the other legionnaires seated at the bar.
An enraged tank driver pushed back. Suddenly all the pent-up frustration was released. Someone threw a beer bottle at the poker game. New and old legionnaires formed sides.
“It’s time to kick ass and chew bubble gum!” shouted Private Krueger from a far corner, reaching in his pants for a grenade.
Sergeant Williams cut loose with a rebel yell. The entire spectacle was recorded and instantly broadcast on the nightly database news.
* * * * *
The spider Military Intelligence officer quietly slipped out with several other spiders to avoid the fight. They followed the unconscious Sergeant Rivers being carried out by his newfound biker babe girlfriends. “I’ll buy him,” offered the Military Intelligence officer. “Name your price.”
“Are you crazy?” answered the fattest biker babe incredulously. “You can’t just buy a Hero of the Legion. This one is all mine. I’m not sharing with you pervert spiders.”
“I’ll pay you a van full of blue powder cocaine.”
“You have a deal, Mister Spider Spy-man,” advised the other biker chick.
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Chapter 16
The Military Intelligence officer administered drugs, immediately sobering Sergeant Rivers. “We have a lot to talk about,” he started.
“Fuck you, bug!” replied Sergeant Rivers. He looked about, sizing up his situation. Not good. He was naked, strapped to a cold steel table. “It looks like fuck me, too,” he mumbled.
“Let’s not have this most distasteful situation be any more unpleasant than necessary,” continued the Military Intelligence officer. “Tell me your secrets. Tell me about your new human pestilence beam technology.”
“I don’t know anything about spaceships or any other of your pulp science fiction bullshit. All I want is to go home.”
“Yes, I noticed that seems to be a common thread among you legionnaires. Your loyalty issues are shocking. Speaking of shocking, you had better tell me what I want to know.”
The Military Intelligence officer gleefully attached electrodes and wires to various places on Rivers’ body, including the all important testicles. The Military Intelligence officer had the torture kit instruction manual memorized, and was not squeamish about using it.
“I told you, I don’t know anything about spaceships!” insisted Sergeant Rivers, panicking. “I don’t need this. This isn’t my war. I didn’t sign up for this!”
“What did you sign up for?”
“Fuck you.”
“No, don’t tell me. I already know. You signed up for the duration, like all legionnaires.”
“I was drafted for the duration.”
“Legionnaires are not drafted. You volunteered.”
“No! I did not volunteer to fight Martians!”
The Military Intelligence officer contemplated that answer. Martians? He was missing something, but what?
“I do not want to harm you. I am not a Martian, I am your friend.”
“Fuck you! I don’t belong here. Kill me if I can’t go home!”
“You don’t belong ... in this time?”
* * * * *
When Sergeant Rivers was smuggled across the border, a Legion tracking chip embedded in his ass set off alarms. Immediately I placed the entire battalion on alert. I called a staff meeting to discuss a rescue plan.
“Sergeant Rivers is being held at the Arthropodan Marine Headquarters,” I advised, pointing to a map of North New Gobi City. “He’s probably in the dungeon, under the complex. We must hit them now, before the spiders move Rivers north. I will punch through the main gate and storm the Headquarters building. Surprise will be on our side. This is an unauthorized mission, so we won’t have strategic air cover. Patton, you will deploy to the heights east of town and provide artillery cover. That should distract the spiders long enough for me to rescue Rivers and be gone before the spiders can react with reinforcements. Any questions or comments?”
“Your plan is flawed,” advised Lieutenant Patton. “Those spiders are smarter than they look. What if they are not surprised? What if the spiders set a trap for you? We should be using my tanks to punch through to Rivers. Nothing can stop us.”
“Speed and surprise are our main advantage,” I repeated. “The spiders watch your tanks too closely. They will see you coming and call for air support before you get to Headquarters. My armored cars will carry us there before the spiders can react.”
“With all due respect, colonel...”
“Enough! You all have your orders. Dismissed!”
* * * * *
At the border crossing checkpoint, Corporal Tonelli waved frantically to the spider guard in the shack on the other side.
“What’s up, Guido? There better not be a problem with my bet. I still want ten thousand credits on the Yankees!”
“World War VII just started!” warned Guido. “Duck!”
The spider guard did not hesitate. He immediately jumped down into his spider hole, as his guard shack was riddled with 50-cal machine gun fire from the approaching column of Legion armored cars crashing the gate.
I led the armored cars past the burned-out Taco Bell, straight to Spider Headquarters. The artillery barrage covered our advance. At the intersection in front of Spider Headquarters, my armored car hit a mine. We skidded to a halt on our side, smoke rising form the engine. Sergeant Wayne dragged me to the cover of another armored car. Machine gun fire raked us from prepared positions atop surrounding buildings. Patton was right! Another armor car exploded as missiles rained down. A hundred yards down the block, spider tanks rumbled toward us.
* * * * *
Lieutenant Patton knew Colonel Czerinski’s plan was doomed form the start and crossed the border even before the colonel did, racing through the golf course again. Along for the ride was reporter Phil Coen of Channel Five World News Tonight.
“You’re taking a big risk disobeying orders,” commented Phil. “What i
f you are wrong? You could end up escalating the situation and starting another war. Shouldn’t you stick to the plan? After all, Colonel Czerinski is an experienced, combat-tested Hero of the Legion.”
“It’s time to kick ass and chew bubble gum,” answered Lieutenant Patton, remembering that slogan from the bar fight. “That Polack Czerinski couldn’t command himself out of a wet paper bag.”
As if on cue, images from their airborne drone broadcast Arthropodan tanks firing on Legion armored cars at the Main Square. Already in position to flank the spiders, Patton raced to the rescue, firing at will. Quickly several spider tanks were engulfed in flames, while others limped off in retreat. Patton’s tank smashed through the front door of Spider Headquarters.
“I surrender!” shouted the Military Intelligence officer, waving a white handkerchief. “What is the meaning of this provocation? More American adventurism?”
Lieutenant Patton shot the spider officer in the head. Brushing past other surrendering spiders, he went downstairs to the dungeon, finding Sergeant Rivers still strapped to a steel table.
“Always sleeping on the job!” commented Lieutenant Patton, unfastening the restraints. He kissed Rivers on the forehead – one of those manly kisses that is totally acceptable between comrades, like butt-pats at sporting events. “You’re going home. We all are.”
“Yes, sir. I never thought I’d be so glad to see your ugly face, sir. I didn’t tell them anything, but I was going to.”
“It’s okay. What do you want? A medal? Get your ass in gear. Gross, put some clothes on. We have to get out of here!”
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Chapter 17
“This is Phil Coen of Channel Five World News Tonight, coming to you live with more breaking news from the New Gobi Desert on Planet New Colorado. Tonight our newest Hero of the Legion, Lieutenant George Smith Patton, Jr., announced the formation of an exploratory committee for his candidacy for President of the United States Galactic Federation. The committee will be led by prominent financier Christopher Columbus, billionaire owner of the Seattle Mariners Texas Red, General Daniel Daly, New York media mogul Patricia Morrison, and world famous science fiction writer Sir Walter Knight.
“Even more startling news is the Legion’s discovery of time travel, and that young Lieutenant Patton and George Patton, hero of World War II, are one and the same. Yes, you heard it first on Channel Five World News Tonight. Time travel is possible, although the exact process is a closely guarded CIA secret. Lieutenant, or should I say General Patton, you say you want to be President?”
“The Presidency is a natural extension of my long record and glorious service to my country. My only regret is that apparently I have had but two lives to give to my country.”
“General, I assume you will be running as a Republican?”
“Of course.”
“As we speak, President Miller has ordered full disclosure of your confidential Legion enlistment contract. It appears your birth in the Kingdom of California violates the Constitutional ban on non-American born citizens running for President.”
“That is outrageous!” fumed Patton. “When my mother gave birth to me in San Gabriel, California was still part of America. Just because some pansy-ass turned California into a tax haven for movie stars and surfer bums doesn’t mean I was not born American. My first official act as President will be to annex California back into the Union!”
“President Miller has also called for an examination of your birth certificate, which has apparently has gone missing. The President cites precedent in federal and Hawaiian case law. Any comments?”
“President Miller is an asshole. When I get back to Earth, I am going to kick my boot so far up his ass, that the man won’t ever be able to sit down again!”
“How are you coping with updating yourself on current events? After all, it’s been hundreds of years, and there has been a lot of history to catch up on.”
“I watch TV and cruise the database every day,” answered Patton, testily. “In case you have not noticed, I have been busy making history in the present.”
“Who would you choose as your running mate, and how much would he or she participate in important decisions?”
“Your implication is correct that I will need a good number-two man. I have asked Hero of the Legion, Major Manny Lopez, to be my running mate. You all know of Major Lopez. There has been previous speculation about Manny Lopez running for President, before he was demoted for political considerations and exiled to New Colorado. Now the time is right for Manny to be on the ticket.”
“Do you think Major Lopez can deliver Texas and the Hispanic vote?” asked Coen, speculating over the electoral numbers.
“Sometimes I hate the press, but I have always thought better of you, Phil. Major Lopez is a many-times-decorated Hero of the Legion who came up through the ranks. He is the real deal. Manny Lopez deserves this shot at higher office and will make a fine vice-president.”
“But delivering Texas can’t hurt?”
“I’ll concede your point. The country is tired of the scandal-ridden Miller administration. Miller-time is over!”
“General, your rescue of notorious Hero of the Legion Colonel Joey R. Czerinski, whose unit was pinned down on an unauthorized mission deep into Arthropodan territory, was viewed live by billions of Americans. The dramatic rescue is reminiscent of your rescue of American armies during World War II. Is it your intention to use that publicity and your increased celebrity status to ride all the way to the Oval Office?”
“This simple old soldier just wants to rescue America from the clutches of Miller and his cronies. Colonel Czerinski is recovering nicely at the hospital. My long-time friend, Sergeant Rubin Rivers, is well, too.”
“General, any last words for the American public?” asked Coen, the cameras zooming in for a close-up of Patton’s handsome rugged profile.
“Yes, Phil. History has a habit of repeating itself. America loves a winner. My unique historical perspective – past, present, and future – will enable me to guide America to even more greatness. We need to support a safe galaxy of responsible allied nations.”
“Good luck, general, and thank you for your service to our country.”
The interview ended with a photo collage from the Battle of New Gobi City. The image faded to a satellite view of the spiders’ five-star golf course, showing tank tread marks etched in mud spelling ‘VOTE PATTON’ across the pristine green links.
* * * * *
Lieutenant Patton ignored the small puddle of oil by the tire as he jauntily climbed into his SUV. Patton drove fast along the DMZ maintenance road back to the barracks bunkers. Patton waved cheerily at the spider clean-up crews at the golf course as he called Eve on his phone.
At the intersection, Patton applied the break, pumping the pedal with no affect. His vehicle sped out of control past the stop sign and was struck broadside by a large Legion supply truck. The damage was horrifying.
The truck rolled up and over Patton’s SUV. Patton’s head was smashed against the roll bar, his chest violently compressed forward. Witnesses could barely recognize the vehicle.
However, air bags deployed and, as was his habit, Patton wore a strapped helmet. First responders cut Patton out unscathed. He smiled weakly for the cameras and his adoring public.
“After all I have been through in service to my country, from Mexico to Europe, from Old Earth to New Colorado, wouldn’t it be ironic to be killed again in an auto accident? God willing, the Grim Reaper won’t take me yet. God Bless America, our troops, and especially our snipers!”
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~BONUS HUMOR~
Abducted by an Iguana
by Walter Knight
My sister Sara was abducted by an iguana hiding in the barn. I think the iguana is really an alien, but I do not know for sure. It is really a good liar. We thought that Sara was the liar, always cracking those jokes about a talking lizard in her backyar
d and a spaceship in her barn. It turns out she kept a straight face because she was not joking.
When she disappeared, I flew out to see if I could find anything. I have always been good about finding things, but finding Sara has been real hard. I have not found her yet, but I figured I would write all this down. Better if I did it all right away. I keep a note pad by my bed.
It could really be aliens who got her, because of the spaceship in the barn and all the oil stains on the grass. I asked the police to test for radiation, but they were too busy. I suspect the police might not have an open mind about aliens. I think either the aliens left in the spaceship, or the iguana ate her.
So, I would like some advice. If I eat the iguana, is it cannibalism?
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~SNEAK PREVIEW~
AMERICA’S GALACTIC FOREIGN LEGION
Book 16: Galactic Disney
by Walter Knight
Chapter 1
I am Colonel Joey R. Czerinski, Hero of the Legion, Butcher of planet New Colorado, and commander of the United States Galactic Federation Foreign Legion garrison troops in the DMZ border town of New Gobi City.
America was poised to take its rightful place as leader of the galaxy. My mission: to oversee construction and operation of Galactic Disneyland, to be built right here in New Gobi City. America’s crown jewel would tower above the desert, snubbing its nose at the Arthropodan Empire, enticing the spiders with Mickey Mouse and Tinkerbell, and Americanizing New Colorado once and for all.
I gazed at construction on the centerpiece of Galactic Disneyland, the ‘Escape From Spider Mountain’ roller-coaster exhibit, progressing nicely. Secret anti-aircraft sites were hidden at the summit. Drones disguised as Tinkerbell pixies kept watch from above. Mickey Mouse carried an assault rifle. I had learned to always expect the worst and believed in being prepared. Everything in the New Gobi Desert pokes, stings, or bites, and it would be no different on this mission. It would only be a matter of time before the spiders fought back. Mickey and Tink would kick-ass if needed.
Lieutenant Columbus Page 11
