Other Wild Ones followed suit, firing their weapons as they charged the gates, sweeping the enemy aside. Stone-Clew launched grenades over the walls, then blasted the gate open. A killing frenzy ensued. No quarter was given except for prized snow-pure virgin females, who as it turned out, were still mostly fat. All had sand mites. Damn! The village was burned.
Chapter 10
It was a long walk back to Taholah, listening to the mournful cries of the new brides, upset about the loss of family and loved ones, and already bitching about having to do the laundry. “What’s next? Dishes? Oh, hell, no!”
“Did you have to massacre the village?” asked Corporal Tonelli. “You can’t just whack a whole town. There will be legal repercussions. You better have a good lawyer. Maybe you can plead insanity. Do you spiders have insanity defenses?”
“I do not know what happened,” explained Stone-Claw. “Usually it’s all just great fun. I trade insults with Magnificent-Claw, we throw shit-stones at each other, and steal each others bubble-butt bitches. Almost no one ever gets hurt. I didn’t mean to kill him. It was an accident.”
“You shot everyone!”
“I know. Those rifles are great. I will buy more. Magnificent-Claw’s relatives upstream have no sense of humor and might be upset, wanting revenge.”
“You think?” asked Tonelli, more upset. “I know of the vendetta. I will not be a part of it. This will not end well.”
“What’s done is done,” lamented Stone-Claw, checking eBay on the database for great gun deals. “We need more firepower and air support.”
“No!”
“Colonel Czerinski and your Legion signed a mutual defense treaty with us,” reminded Stone-Claw. “We have mutual strategic interests to protect. Or does the USGF speak with forked tongue? Is your oath worthless?”
“The Legion will never sell you weapons again. You are nothing more than a bandit.”
“How about if I sweeten the deal by throwing in some slightly overweight virgin females?”
“Not likely.”
“I need a manager for my new casino,” offered Stone-Claw, sweetening the pot. “I understand you have extensive gaming management experience. Are you interested in the job?”
“We’ll talk.”
* * * * *
The spider commander returned to Taholah, bristling for a fight. Not only had Private Atm and his arm slipped through his claws, but Wild Ones armed with Legion weapons massacred the neighboring village. That traitor Stone-Claw had serious explaining to do.
The spider commander found Taholah in chaos. Drunk Wild Ones were running about chasing fat females. Several warriors lay in the roadway injured, trampled by the herd of stampeding bitches. Shots were fired. White foam flowed from washing machines, crumbling mud huts. Stone-Claw sat calmly in the town square, presiding over it all. Not surprisingly, a human pestilence legionnaire stood by his side.
“You are both under arrest for murder, genocide, crimes against civilization, terrorism, arms smuggling, and causing a sewer overflow,” announced the spider commander from his armored car turret. “All are capital offenses. Seize them!”
“I am the American Ambassador to the Autonomous Tribal District,” advised Corporal Tonelli, crushing a can of outlaw beer on his helmet. “I have diplomatic immunity.”
“After torture, confession, and fair trial, you both will be shot at dawn!” replied the spider commander. “What is that white foam? If it’s toxic waste, you will be tortured and shot twice as much!”
“You are trespassing on the sovereign territory of the Autonomous Tribal District,” interrupted Chief Stone-Claw. “Trespassing is a serious matter. We have a treaty with the Emperor. Look it up!”
The spider commander hesitated. Technically, Stone-Claw might be right, but no one had ever pressed the matter. Certainly the Legion was not allowed to run amuck in a protected tribal area.
“My lawyers will be contacting your lawyers!” added Stone-Claw. “You have no jurisdiction.”
“Throw them in jail!” ordered the spider commander, losing his temper. “Lose the key!”
“There is no jail,” advised the Military Intelligence officer. “He’s right about jurisdiction. The Autonomous Tribal District is like a separate country, except different.”
“Am I surrounded by traitors and fools? If there’s no jail, build one! Chain them to a post right here in the middle of the town square. Let all see what happens to traitors and collaborators!”
“I’m not the enemy,” insisted Corporal Tonelli. “We are at peace.”
“You are a spy!”
“Of course I’m a spy. That’s what ambassadors do,” explained Tonelli “We run a nest of spies. It’s all legal. Can’t we work something out? How about a share of my casino? Your cut will be five percent.”
“My casino,” corrected Stone-Claw. “You are merely to manage.”
“Your casino,” conceded Tonelli, contritely. “Well? Can’t I just pay the fine and get on with business? I’ve already ordered slot machines from New Memphis. I have investors.”
“Add racketeering to your growing list of charges. Gambling is illegal in the Empire, and so are your investors. You will be shot before dawn!”
“How about ten percent?”
“Twenty five percent,” demanded the spider commander, no rube in dealing with diplomats and human pestilence wise guys.
“That’s robbery. You’re like a thief in the night. Families will starve if you get twenty five percent. That punk Czerinski will want a cut too.”
“Too bad, so sad.”
“The best I can do is a twelve percent cut, but only because of past goodwill.”
“Twenty percent,” relented the spider commander, handing Tonelli a pre-approved imperial business license. “Take it, or be executed.”
“Deal,” agreed Tonelli, scanning the license into his communications pad. “Welcome to Shit Creek Casino. Winners happen here.”
“I’m changing the name.”
“Fine.”
“Sorry, but you will still be tortured. It’s the law.”
* * * * *
“How could you leave our ambassador unprotected, to be abused by spiders?” asked General Daly, clearly upset. “Congress is shocked and appalled. The President is outraged. Even Democrats are perturbed.”
“It’s only Guido Tonelli,” I explained. “I figured nobody would miss him if he got whacked.”
“The same Guido that is my bookie? Who the hell is going to handle my action during the playoffs?”
“I’ve been assured by the local spider commander that Guido will be released as soon as they finish an interrogation. In the meantime, Private Atm is filling in nicely. Atm has a real head for numbers.”
“Now see here, Czerinski. You have Private Atm call me as soon as possible!”
“Yes, sir.”
“It sets a bad precedent, letting our Ambassador be abused. You will immediately deploy your battalion back to Taholah.”
“The whole battalion?”
“Tough times demand tough measures. Bomb something. Show those spiders we mean business, and that future alien abductions will not be tolerated!”
“Who do you want me to bomb?”
“Damn it, Czerinski! Show some initiative. I cannot be micromanaging every detail out on the frontier! Don’t make me come down there.”
“Yes, sir. But we’ll be cut off behind enemy lines. The spiders get real anal about trespassing.”
“Then we will draw new lines. It’s not trespassing if you change the border. Chief Stone-Claw requested our protection, and he’s going to get it. Our Legion attorneys assured me everything is legal. Get this right, and there will be a star in your future.”
“I’m not interested in a star, sir. I’m retiring.”
“You’re in for the duration,” corrected Daly. “Humanity was on New Colorado first, and we will be here last. The Legion is not through putting a hurt on those godless spiders!”
&nb
sp; “They have a prophet, sir.”
“Exactly!”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter 11
Shuttles transported a thousand legionnaires and armor to fourteen-thousand-foot elevation to defend Taholah from Imperial invasion. Too late. Arthropodan marines were already dug in, engaged in all sorts of building projects, including a highway and a two-tower casino. Nice. More important, the spiders still held Ambassador Tonelli, causing a public relations nightmare. More bad press.
I fired a single flare, watching it slowly drift down, illuminating the deserted early morning streets of Taholah. Legion armored cars smashed through the main gate, firing machine guns at spider bunkers. It was a bit of an anti-climax. I started a war, but nobody came. We were ignored. No one woke up or even bothered to return fire.
Tonelli lay shivering on the ground in the main square, chained by an ankle to a post. Using bolt cutters, I freed his leg and gave him a hand up. I tossed Tonelli a beer. He held the can up to my helmet camera and said with chattering teeth, “O-Outlaw Beer, worth g-getting rescued for.” Ka-ching!
He lowered the beer and groused, “It’s about time you got here.”
“I guess they didn’t torture you that much,” I commented, muting the sound on the video. “Really? You’re building a casino at fourteen-thousand feet?”
“If we build it, they will come,” advised Tonelli, quite the wise guy sage. “What with gambling illegal in the Empire, we’re sitting on a gold mine of potential spider tourists. The spider commander is getting a cut of the action. His marines are building the casino, a thermal heated spa, a brothel, an eight-lane highway, an airport, and a barracks. It’s all legal.”
“What about my cut?”
“Technically, the Autonomous Tribal District is inside the Empire,” argued Tonelli. “You don’t get a cut. You keep your sticky fingers out of my business.”
“I am not sticky, I am the glue that holds everything on the frontier together,” I advised. “You’d better remember that, if you know what’s good for you. Chief Stone-Claw officially requested Legion protection. Congress established diplomatic relations with the Autonomous Tribal District. Shots were fired, and you got rescued. All that costs money, so I get a fair cut of the action.”
“Technically, now that I’m the ambassador, I outrank you. What I say goes.”
“Shut up. You know nothing and have no diplomatic experience.”
“I have plenty of diplomatic experience,” argued Tonelli. “I’m connected. My small talk has brought down City Hall and altered foreign policy.”
“Being a Mafia errand boy is not diplomatic experience. I’m running this show.”
“Are you trying to start a war?” complained Tonelli. “You know how the spiders are about trespassing. If I hadn’t paid off the spider commander, your shuttle would have been shot down before you got anywhere near Taholah. Now that I’m finally rescued, you need to leave.”
“I’m going to shoot that damn spider commander, and you’re next,” I threatened. “The Legion will stay, in a peacekeeping role. The American Embassy will be built adjacent to the casino, complete with barracks and a command center suite for me on the top floor, with my own pool. There’s a lot of overhead for security, so the Legion gets twenty-five percent. Capisce?”
“But the spider commander already has a suite on the top floor,” protested Tonelli, eying the glittering newly constructed rotating bachelor pad condo, high above it all. “He won’t move.”
“Then I’m serving an eviction notice.”
With a quick text message, I ordered Legion Muckleshoot helicopter gunships to take out the Arthropodan marine command and control center atop the casino tower. Poof! In a flash, the site for my new luxury suite was cleared for construction, and hopefully the spider commander eliminated. I turned up the sound on my helmet cam, panning to the casino.
“Fireworks and Outlaw Beer at the top of the world,” announced Ambassador Tonelli to the Galactic Database News. “Join us. Boy, do we have a vacation for you. Winners happen here.”
* * * * *
The spider commander was not in his penthouse suite when it was attacked by the Butcher of New Colorado. The commander personally supervised hoisting a Howitzer to the casino rooftop site of his destroyed condo. He peered contemptuously down the barrel of the long gun at the legionnaires scurrying about below like little ants. His Military Intelligence officer and the Intelligentsia officer watched, snickering quietly.
“The old bastard is overcompensating for his small wee again,” whispered the Military Intelligence officer. “What’s he think he’s going to do with a gun that big?”
“Shove it up Czerinski’s poop-chute is what he wants to do,” scoffed the Intelligentsia officer. “Good luck with that.”
“Czerinski will pay dearly for his provocations and insolence,” promised the spider commander, overhearing his subordinates’ conversation. “Pay with his life!”
“Starting a war would be bad for tourism,” advised the Military Intelligence officer. “Don’t take it so personal. You can get another condo. It’s just business, and Czerinski is our partner. We’re going to get rich if you don’t blow it.”
“I will not partner with the Devil. If Czerinski thinks he can muscle in on my action, he is very mistaken.”
“Too late. Chief Stone-Claw cut Czerinski in. That Wild One is smarter than he looks. He’s playing us against the Legion. You need to chill until we find an advantage.”
“Do not tell me to chill!” shouted the spider commander, grabbing his XO and shoving him to the ledge. “Remember your place, or you will join Czerinski in Hell soon enough, I do not care who you are related to.”
“Yes, sir.”
The spider commander released him, still staring down at the activity below. The Legion was bringing in more construction equipment and pre-fab buildings. None of those human pestilence should be given any quarter. It grated on him that greedy traitors allowed the Legion to trespass. There would an accounting for such treachery, and Stone-Claw would be first on his growing list to be executed. “The Legion’s very presence inside the Empire is an insult that must be avenged. Czerinski and his human pestilence Legion are a stench I will tolerate no longer.”
“I will kill Czerinski for you, sir,” offered the Intelligentsia officer. “I am your sword. Say the word, and it will be done.”
This fool couldn’t even torture a human pestilence arm, then he allowed it to escape, thought the spider commander. Now he thinks he can take on Czerinski and the whole Legion? “Oh?” he asked conversationally. “How would you kill Czerinski?”
“At the casino’s grand opening,” explained the Intelligentsia officer eagerly. “There will be a crowd, and lots of distractions. One scratch of nerve agent, and Czerinski will be convulsing on your new carpet.”
“That’s been tried before. Just shoot the worthless human pestilence, or blow him up. I don’t care which. Make it look like the Mafia did it, so we don’t create a diplomatic incident. I don’t want to get sued, now that I’ve gone corporate.”
“There is no such thing as the Mafia.”
“If there was, they would have never got off Arthropoda,” added the Military Intelligence officer, not wanting to be left out.
“You’re both wrong. Human pestilence and our own rabble conspire to form criminal syndicates. You will kill Czerinski and leave black hand-and-claw prints all over his body, incriminating the Mafia. Understand? Get this right, and I won’t tell the governor how you lost that robot arm.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter 12
Realizing Corporal Tonelli to be a bad influence on new recruits, I assigned Private Atm to be my driver and bodyguard. Better to keep an eye on Atm, I reasoned too. At the grand opening of the Roof of the World Casino Resort, the spider commander grudgingly gave me a courtesy tour prior to the doors opening. It was my first chance to inspect the premises. I still got my cut, but the spiders had not allowed me acc
ess, or let me make management decisions. I was to be a silent partner. Appealing to Chief Stone-Claw was no help. The cagey chief ignored our contract when convenient, and nixed my suite at the top of the casino. Wild Ones speak with forked tongue when it comes to keeping promises.
The Roof of the World Casino Resort was custom-built for spider gamblers. Permanent urinals were constructed between slot machines so gamblers would not have to take breaks to relieve themselves. Apparently spiders are not as modest as humans about such matters. The splash factor got real annoying, and there were no restrooms for bowel movements. Maybe the spiders bagged their turds. Who knows? With no toilets, the dump was worse than Star Trek. I ordered Major Lopez and his CIA buddies to investigate the matter.
Another interesting feature was the alcohol tubes running directly from the slot machines to each gambler. The machines even made ice. I decided the spiders were on to something, and I started the process of getting a patent.
Spider and human crowds gathered outside, impatiently counting down to zero hour. It was the law that no clocks or watches were allowed in any casino, so the crowd was getting restless, continuously checking their communication devices. The spider commander posed for the media, holding large golden scissors. Finally the spider commander cut the yellow police tape, signaling the gamblers to rush the front doors. We were nearly trampled as spiders scrambled over each other to get to the slots. Some fights broke out with humans unaccustomed to such swarms.
A shot rang out directly behind me. I turned to see Private Atm standing over a dead black-clad Nazi-looking Intelligentsia officer. What the Hell? The spider had fallen into a urinal, and was swirling round and round. May he rest in piss, I thought. The gamblers ignored the spectacle, rushing to their slots and table games.
“Explain yourself!” I demanded, confronting Private Atm. Water was already spilling from the clogged toilet onto the new carpet. “What happened?”
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