Allies

by Walter Knight

  “I’ll decide that,” said Major Lopez. “But maybe we will cut you a deal. Maybe you would like to return to your fleet?”

  “That is impossible,” said the scorpion commander with a tired sigh. “Our fleet is safely far, far away. No one has the means to catch them now. I abandoned all hope of returning to the stars when we marooned ourselves on this asteroid belt.”

  “So landing here was just a diversion?” asked Major Lopez. “You fleet is not coming back for you? They’re never coming back?”

  “Oh, eventually they are coming back,” warned the scorpion commander. “But not for me. They will come back for you!”

  Major Lopez slapped the scorpion commander across what served as his face. “There is nothing left of your paltry fleet!” sneered Major Lopez. “We slaughtered them!”

  “More survived than you realize,” advised the scorpion commander. “I will be avenged.” “You will order all under your command to surrender at once,” I said. “That includes soldiers on the other asteroids.” “I have already done so,” advised the scorpion commander. “All equipment will be delivered intact to the Legion,” added Major Lopez. “Of course,” replied the scorpion commander. “You cannot leave such things lying about for anyone to pick up.” “I want all computer files, computer hardware, and other advanced technology in your possession turned over to the Legion,” I demanded. “And I want your specialists identified and turned over to us, too. They are to be presented only to the Legion.”

  “You would deny your Arthropodan allies the spoils of war?” hissed the scorpion commander. “I do not have any secret weapons to give you.”

  “I will have the secret of your star ships’ propulsion,” I said. “I want your black hole drive.”

  “I bet you do,” commented the scorpion commander. “You asked me earlier what I wanted. I want a home for my species. I will gladly give up my secrets if you can give me a home.”

  “What happened to your own home world?” asked Major Lopez. “Overpopulation? Is that why you tried to invade our space? You can’t control your breeding?”

  “We are refugees,” explained the scorpion commander. “The Mantidae found my world and devoured it. They are even more vicious and destructive than humanity. They will find your world, too.”

  “What are the Mantidae?” I asked.

  “We did not even know the Mantidaen Empire existed,” said the scorpion commander. “They bombarded our planets in a surprise attack from space and forced our civilization to flee.”

  “You expect us to believe this tale?” asked Major Lopez. “I’ll cut you if you keep lying to us.”

  The scorpion commander handed Major Lopez an electronic information pad. Images flashed on its screen. Major Lopez scrolled through the data. “Another horde of bugs!” he yelled. “We are truly alone, adrift in a galaxy of bugs!”

  “So you believe me now?” asked the scorpion commander. “Believe this, too. Mantidaen picket ships harried us even after we fled. The Mantidae now know of you.”

  “You led them to us!” shouted Major Lopez, grabbing the scorpion commander by the throat. “You will not live past today!”

  “Stop!” I ordered, pulling Major Lopez off the scorpion. “I will review your records before I believe what you say. Perhaps it is you who ravages the galaxy. Perhaps you are the Hun.”

  “Unlike your history, our Holocaust is graphically recorded on video and cannot be denied,” advised the scorpion commander. “You may view it all!”

  “You said you wanted a home,” I repeated. “Surely you do not want to live on XYP? It’s too small and would not be safe from the Mantidae either.”

  “No,” answered the scorpion commander. “But there is more than enough room for us on New Colorado. There we can settle and fight the Mantidae on even terms. We will have allies.”

  “No!” said Major Lopez. “We were there first! We don’t need your help!” “I know you have an entire uninhabited continent,” said the scorpion commander. “We surveyed New Colorado quite extensively.” “Spied on us is more like it,” accused Major Lopez. “That land is US Park Service land,” I said. “No one is allowed to live there.” “I am well aware that Smokey the Bear holds that continent in trust,” replied the scorpion commander. “We promise to not pollute the land, and not to start forest fires. We will consent to Smokey’s wisdom. Do you want our black hole starship propulsion technology or not? It could be the one factor that tips the balance in your favor when the Mantidae come.”

  “You would have to become United States Galactic Federation citizens,” I advised. “Certain obligations come with that responsibility.”

  “I can do that,” answered the scorpion commander. “I will pledge my allegiance.” “You will also have to register as Republicans in the next election,” added Major Lopez. “Agreed,” said the scorpion commander, after tepid hesitation.

  * * * * *

  The USGF Stealth Starship Shenandoah located an alien spacecraft in orbit around New Colorado by using advanced starlight displacement technology. The Shenandoah fired one missile. The alien craft took evasive action, but to no avail. The alien ship died a fiery, explosive death. Later, the Shenandoah’s crew recovered debris from the alien craft, including body parts. They were scorpion.

  * * * * *

  When the scorpion commander returned to the detention center, he made a public show of untying the burlap sacks covering his stinger and throwing them to the ground. His executive officer and many others cheered him at the gate. Scorpions swarmed the commander, wanting to touch their leader. The scorpion commander and his executive officer rubbed pincers and mandibles, exchanging chemical messages. The messages quickly spread throughout the detention center.

  The humans placed listening devices on my body, warned the scorpion commander. I will remove them at my leisure. They think we were chased by the Mantidae from our home world, and that we merely seek refuge on New Colorado. For now, we will be good Americans. We will follow the directives of the all-powerful Smokey the Bear. When our fleet returns, we will exterminate the humans and the spiders, the same as we did the Mantidae.

  Chapter 4

  General Daly met with an emissary of the Arthropodan Emperor to discuss the fate of scorpion prisoners. The emissary was clearly upset. “All scorpion survivors should be detained here on Asteroid XYP until it can be determined whether their species is still a threat,” advised the spider emissary. “Transporting them to New Colorado and turning them loose is premature and reckless.”

  “They are marooned, and we’re stuck with them,” argued General Daly. “We’re just making them useful and productive.”

  “You lie,” accused the emissary. “I already know you seized their technical experts and engineers first. I expect you to fulfill your duties as an ally, and share any new technology you squeeze from them.”

  “Not likely,” commented General Daly. “You play a dangerous game by not sharing information and technology. There is supposed to be trust between allies.” “The Empire twice nuked New Colorado in the middle of the night,” replied General Daly. “Do not lecture me about trust!” “Our interrogation of scorpions still in our custody paints a disturbing picture of a very self-serving, dangerous species,” advised the emissary. “We will squeeze more information from them. That is only prudent. But throwing caution to the wind, you just turn them loose in your National Forest like wild animals. It is only a matter of time before your pet scorpions get into mischief.”

  “The Legion is keeping them on a short leash,” promised General Daly. “We will deal with individual problems as they happen. There are so many scorpions, what else can we do for a long-term solution? Do you suggest we exterminate them? Congress won’t authorize that.”

  “It may come to that,” commented the spider emissary. “At the very least, they need to be locked up in your gulags while we consider that option. I’ll kill them for you, if you or your leaders don’t have the stoma
ch for it.”

  “No, you will not,” warned General Daly. “The scorpions have been granted USGF citizenship, conditional upon their good behavior.”

  “That is madness,” said the emissary. “What more surprises have you not told me about? I can tell you are holding out on me by the way your facial muscles twitch. You can’t make eye contact with me when you lie, and you are lying now.”

  “You have eight eyes!” said General Daly. “No one can make eye contact with you.”

  “Have the scorpions told you of the Mantidae?” asked the emissary. “Of course they have. When were you going to get around to telling me? After the Mantidae attacked Arthropoda?”

  “We are still looking into that matter,” advised General Daly. “I did not want to cause undue alarm before I had all the facts. We are studying star charts and sending probes and scouts to corroborate that information.”

  “You will keep me apprised of your findings,” said the emissary. “We will send our own probes, too.”

  * * * * *

  “The threat to New Colorado is finally being taken seriously,” announced General Daly, calling me on the phone. “The USGF Marine Corps Fourth Division is going to land in New Gobi City. They will be tasked with security while we settle the scorpions at Jellystone National Park. There are new security concerns about the scorpions. We may need to reevaluate promises made to them.”

  “You’re sending jar-heads to the New Gobi Desert?” I asked. “This place will grind them up. The spiders will have your marines for lunch. Can’t you send those idiots somewhere else? Send them to New Memphis to fight the Mafia, or to patrol the New Mississippi River. Marines like water, don’t they?”

  “Careful, Colonel Czerinski,” warned General Daly. “Remember that I am a displaced marine. Since my temporary posting to the Legion, I have developed a newfound respect for Legion capabilities, but the USGFMC is the most awesome kick-ass fighting force the galaxy has ever seen. Frankly, the Legion does not even compare with the professionalism, training, and fire-power of the Marine Corps. Hoo-rah!”

  “I’m going to puke,” I whispered to myself. Returning attention to General Daly, I said, “Only the light infantry of the Legion can successfully fight the unconventional tactics of the insurgency. Overwhelming fire-power doesn’t work in the New Gobi Desert. But fine, we can use all the help we can get, if something goes wrong. I’ll put the marines on guard duty, watching the scorpions. They might be able to handle that. Hopefully we can teach your jar-heads all about roadside bombs before we lose too many.”

  “Semper fi!” said General Daly, as he disconnected.

  “Up yours,” I replied, hanging up.

  * * * * *

  “Why do we have to drink with these scum legionnaires?” complained a USGF marine sergeant to the bartender at the Angry Union Tavern. “This riff-raff stinks up the place.”

  “Are you spoiling for a fight?” asked the Hell’s Angels bartender. “That’s fine, because I like to see a good fight. But let me give you some advice. You just got here. Take some time to acclimate yourself. This is the New Gobi Desert. Everything in the desert pokes, bites, or stings. That includes the Legion. Don’t go charging into any fights until you know the score.”

  “Know the score – my ass,” commented the marine sergeant loudly. He became angrier as he watched legionnaires fill up the tavern, celebrating their return home and their victory over the scorpions on Asteroid XYP. “I heard the commander of the Legion here in New Gobi is a corrupt, degenerate pervert who has sex with spiders and the dead! Is that true?” The marine sergeant slapped a large hand on the back of the legionnaire next to him. “Well?” he asked again loudly. “Is it true? Is your commander a degenerate pervert?”

  “You must mean Colonel Czerinski,” replied Private Walter Knight. “Yep, that sums up our fearless leader pretty good.”

  “I also heard the Legion allows spiders to join,” said the marine sergeant, looking about for spiders to trash. “The Legion has always been riddled with rejects, criminals, retards, and Mafia. But now you allow bugs to enlist? Where is your pride?”

  “Anything you say, sergeant,” answered Private Knight, getting up to leave. “I wish you nothing but luck and goodwill. The New Gobi DMZ is a dangerous place. Be careful, and God be with you.”

  “Did you just threaten me?” challenged the marine sergeant. “You should know better than that. I can see the Legion is full of fools, too. I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

  “Sergeant, I don’t want to fight,” said Private Knight. “You’re drunk, you outrank me, and you’re bigger than me.”

  “Don’t let my rank hold you back, legionnaire,” said the marine sergeant. “You want a piece of me? Or are you are a coward who won’t even stand up for yourself or your buddies? Come on!”

  “Nope,” said Private Knight, running for the door.

  Private Krueger grabbed Knight by the arm and swung him back around. “Are you going to let that jar-head talk to you like that? You need to do something.”

  “Those marines are big and mean, and they outnumber us,” whined Private Knight. “Besides, I’m basically a non-violent type person. Live and let live, I always say.”

  “I thought you longed to see combat,” taunted Private Krueger. “You said you wanted to see lots of action!”

  “The only action I want to see tonight is to get drunk at the Blind Tiger Tavern,” replied Private Knight. “If you want to play with the Marine Corps, go right ahead. I’m leaving.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” said Private Krueger. “It’s a matter of principle.”

  By now a crowd was gathering, mostly marines. Privates Garcia, Camacho, and Wayne crowded in, too.

  “What are you going to do about it, shorty?” the marine sergeant challenged Private Krueger. “You aren’t even old enough to be in here. Run along to your mama. The rest of you legionnaires can leave, too. I’m declaring this tavern off limits to the Legion.”

  “You don’t know who you’re messing with,” said Private Garcia, pushing past the crowd and bumping into the marine sergeant. “And who are you, fat boy?” asked the marine sergeant, giving Garcia a shove. “I am Tony the Toe, Hero of the Legion,” answered Private Garcia. “And I have a medal to prove it. That’s all you need to know!” “See?” said the marine sergeant to the crowd. “I told you they let the Mafia in the Legion!” The marine sergeant ripped Private Garcia’s Hero of the Legion medal off his chest and tossed it into the crowd of marines. A marine held the medal high above his head for all to see, and dared Tony the Toe to try to retrieve it. Private Krueger pulled two grenades from his pouch and tossed them at the marines. Marines leapt for cover as the grenades exploded. Other legionnaires fired their assault rifles. Legionnaires tossed more grenades in the parking lot as marine vehicles went up in flames. Military police arrived and closed the tavern at gunpoint.

  Ambulances carried the injured to the hospital. Major Lopez was promptly assigned to investigate. He posted a sign on the front door that declared the premises off-limits to all Marine Corps personnel, due to safety concerns. Major Lopez concluded his official report of the incident by stating, ‘Anyone who is stupid enough to provoke a fight with troops just returned from combat deserves whatever happens, and should not be allowed to further contribute to society’s gene pool. Case closed.’

  Chapter 5

  The scorpion fleet commander and I walked together on an inspection tour past rows of barracks. Our aides trailed behind. The Immigration Processing Center at the entrance to Jellystone National Park already held thousands of scorpions.

  “I have been doing much research on humanity on the database,” commented the scorpion commander. “The United States Galactic Federation does not think much of Communism. Do you?”

  “Most certainly not,” I answered. “Communism died on the ash heap of history a long time ago, but not before murdering countless millions. Good riddance.”


  “Then why do you force us to live in this oversized commune?” asked the scorpion commander. “I do not wish to live under Communism any more than you do.”

  “Have patience,” I advised. “Your housing situation is only temporary. You will be free soon.”

  “Sometimes what is temporary becomes permanent if left in place too long,” said the scorpion commander. “These buildings are very sturdy. They look permanent to me.”

  “It’s just that the bureaucrats need to count and identify every swinging scorpion tail that lands on New Colorado,” I explained. “The paperwork is staggering. Now they are bogged down because of the retina scans. Immigration law requires retina scan identification for records, but you scorpions have so many eyes, it’s creating havoc in the system. How many eyes do you have, anyway?”

  “Eight to twenty, depending on the maturity and race of the individual,” replied the scorpion commander. “Most eyes are located in our head, but some are along our body.”

  “You have different races?” I asked. “I had not noticed that.” “You are saying we all look alike?” asked the scorpion commander, put out. “I expected better of you.” “The differences must be subtle,” I said. “I am not new to dealing with alien species.” “So I have heard,” said the scorpion commander. “Our spider guards call you the Butcher of New Colorado.” “I get bad press,” I explained, dismissing his comment. “You mentioned female scorpions when we were discussing retina scans. I am not seeing any. Where do you hide them?”

  “I did not mention our females,” corrected the scorpion commander. “Their differences are subtle, too. Mostly chemical.” “They give off pheromones?” “Most certainly,” replied the scorpion commander. “Very hot, I may add.” “Show me how to identify the difference. It will make my job easier, sorting out you scorpions.” “I heard from our USGF Marine Corps guards that you are into interspecies dating,” said the scorpion commander. “They say you are a degenerate pervert. Or is that just more bad press?”