America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 20: Time Machine

by Walter Knight

  Once seated, Steve tried to be smooth by keeping up the conversation. “Have you seen that new ‘Man of Steel 33?’ I thought it was pretty good, though I wonder how many times they can re-launch Superman.”

  Angela only smiled as she ordered from the inlaid program on the table. “When was the last time you were really happy?” she asked.

  “I’m happy this very moment, with you,” answered Steve, caught off-guard. “Happier than I have been in years. I used to teach school on Mars for a small school district that actually wanted me present to teach the class, not this cyber-virtual packaged nonsense we have now. Back then, we had choices. I only had three students, but we had a connection that’s hard to describe. It was real. Then I sold out to Biebertech for more money.”

  Angela nodded, reaching across the table to take Steve’s hand, while pushing buttons with the other to order an appetizer. “It’s okay,” she replied. “We all have our regrets. I never planned on being a door-to-door anti-matter salesperson, but that’s just how things worked out.”

  “Ambidextrous,” noted Steve of her multitasking abilities. “I love that. I love everything about you.”

  “I love everything about you, too,” said Angela, smiling seductively as she ordered another drink.

  Steve’s heart pounded. This night was going to end well, he could tell.

  * * * * *

  Sure enough, after dinner, Angela suggested they go to Steve’s place. He was more than a little drunk, and certainly not inclined to argue. Angela drove his car. She was a natural. At home, Steve led a now submissive Angela to his bedroom. He was glad he had cleaned up his apartment, hiding the childish collector Transformers he still played with.

  Steve smoothly took out the Mind Sex hookup device from his nightstand. Mind Sex was the one technological advance Steve fully appreciated, and got much use. The popularity of Mind Sex made sexually transmitted diseases practically nonexistent, although there were still some viruses if you opened the wrong windows. And of course, unplanned pregnancies were a thing of the past.

  Excited, Steve gave Angela her 3D glasses as he hooked up.

  “That’s not the connection I want,” panted Angela, pulling off her shirt. “My health scan is clean, and I took my pill only six months ago.”

  Steve quickly checked her health card, not really caring what it stated. Actual sex was so rare, he had never known anyone to do it. Even his parents back in the day used clunky R2-DO-Me technology for sex. Hell with it. They stripped off their clothes at the speed of light.

  Sex with Angela was incredible. Steve could not believe his good fortune. He felt like a million credits. He had lots of hands-on experience, but technically he was losing his virginity. That was a big deal. He hadn’t even had Mind Sex with another person in six months. This was just incredible. Angela was definitely a keeper. She was so talented, insisting on many varied positions Steve had never even contemplated existed.

  As Steve exploded inside her from behind, he noticed a red glow to her spine. WTF? Steve was too stunned to speak. The red glow faded as he dismounted. Angela kissed his neck, snuggling beside, not noticing his dismay or wide open mouth. Finally he summoned the courage to speak. “Your spine glowed red. Is there something I need to know about you?”

  “Oh, come now, you didn’t know? Why do you think I loved your Battlestar shirt so much? Didn’t you notice I look just like Cylon Number Six? Sure you did. Disney wanted to test me out on one of its tech geeks. You got lucky. So, I was good?”

  “You’re a Cylon? Does that mean we’re starting a whole new race?”

  “No, silly,” answered Angela, slapping Steve playfully. “It means the bosses finally granted you a promotion. You’ll be featured as the main exhibit at the new Disney theme park. It’s quite an honor being bestowed upon you. I hope you fully appreciate the confidence Disney has in your work.”

  Realizing the full extent of his situation, Steve made a break for the door. Too late. Angela was on him, wielding handcuffs as she slammed him to the floor.

  “This is kinky,” commented Angela as she slapped on the bracelets.

  She dragged Steve by his hair, still naked, to a waiting van outside, where Daffy Duck and Pluto robots drove him away to his new Disney adventure.

  ###

  ~ABOUT THE GUEST AUTHOR~

  Charles O’Keefe is the author of The Newfoundland Vampire series. He lives in the beautiful province of Newfoundland, Canada, with his wife and two feline ‘children,’ Jude and Esther. He works in IT support and enjoys many hobbies and activities that include writing, reading, watching fantasy/science-fiction movies and television shows, gaming, poker, walking, Pilates, and of course fantasizing about vampires.

  To find out more about Charles, go to Twitter and Facebook or visit his web site.

  http://www.charlesokeefe.com/

  ~SNEAK PREVIEW~

  AMERICA’S GALACTIC FOREIGN LEGION

  Book 21: Breaking Very Bad

  by Walter Knight

  Chapter 1

  I am Colonel Joey R. Czerinski, Foreign Legion military commander of a vast desert DMZ on distant planet New Colorado, separating the United States Galactic Federation and humanity from the Arthropodan Empire spider aliens on our colony. An uneasy truce holds, regulating my duties to mostly policing commerce and traffic at New Gobi City, the area’s main border crossing point.

  I’m not a cop, but some days I feel like it. Drug smuggling threatens the peace. The Empire threatened to take matters into their own claws if humanity didn’t clean up its act and stop the traffic of blue powder from the south. Corruption and a porous border aggravated the problem, but reinforcements were trickling in. Just today, new Legion recruits arrived, specially trained in anti-drug interdiction. What they lacked in experience, they made up with enthusiasm.

  Privates Valtar Whyte and Jessie Pink stood at attention in my air conditioned office. Whyte seemed haggard, but Pink was full of energy, barely able to contain his enthusiasm to fight drug-dealing spiders. I gazed at their files, returning their salutes.

  “It says here you both are chemical warfare experts.” I read the details but doubted much of it was true. “What good does that do me if we don’t have chemical weapons, and we’re not allowed to use them anyway?”

  “Yo, bitch!” shouted Private Pink. “I’m not supposed to be here! This Legion abduction is bogus! Hook me up with my lawyer, pronto!”

  Master Sergeant Green grabbed Pink by the collar and slammed him headfirst into the wall. The dent to both Pink’s head and the wall would be permanent. Pink slumped to the floor. I turned my attention to Whyte. “Well? Do you have anything to add?”

  “Perhaps we can manufacture our own chemical weapons,” suggested Whyte reasonably, wanting to please. “It could be done with the right resources.”

  “I’m more interested in fighting the local drug problem than creating a nerve gas incident,” I explained. “I get a lot of bad press. What do you know about blue powder?”

  “Drugs are just simple chemistry. What’s there to know?”

  “Drug dealers are manufacturing blue powder right here in New Gobi City,” explained Major Lopez, my usually stoic XO. “We are losing the galactic war on drugs. Where are they getting the chemicals? How can we stop their supply networks?”

  “The Legion is rumored to be corrupt to the core,” advised Whyte, eying Major Lopez. “I’m just a private. What can I do?”

  “Yet you enlisted for the duration,” I bristled, sensitive to phony corruption allegations. “Both of you did, but I’ll probably have Private Pink shot. This is the New Gobi Desert. Everything here pokes, bites, or stings. You ever been in the desert? The dry air will suck the life out of you in a day. Remember that, and you’ll live another day.”

  “In spite of Pink’s indiscretion, we were trained as a team. I’ll talk to Pink when he wakes up.”

  “You do that,” I ordered. “Report to Corporal Guido Tonelli for orientation at the main gate border cr
ossing. Tonelli will square you away and tell you what you need to know to survive the Gobi. I’m not allowed to ask about your past, but you are being given a chance to make something of yourselves in the Legion. Do the Legion proud, and you will prosper. Make a difference. Stay loyal, or your parched bones will be covered by the shifting sand dunes. No one will care or miss you. Understand, legionnaire?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * * * *

  Major Lopez and Whyte carried Pink, still woozy, to his barracks cubical.

  “I’m the reason you were assigned here,” announced Major Lopez, breaking the silence. “I know you two were chemists on Old Earth before your fugitive status. Now you work for me and the CIA. Ready to cook?”

  “Get off me!” shouted Pink, coming to as they set him on his bunk. “My cooking days are over. You can go to Hell.”

  “It’s over when the Legion says it’s over.”

  “Does Colonel Czerinski know you’re trafficking blue powder?” asked Whyte. “I don’t want to cross the Butcher of New Colorado. His legend spreads far and wide.”

  “No, this is a top-secret CIA mission. You will cook high-quality blue powder just like you did on Old Earth. After we establish distribution channels, we will drive out competition with my Legion contacts and dominate the planetary blue-powder market. Then, we slip a special slow-acting lethal dose of poison into the product, killing every junkie on the planet.”

  “Yo, are you out of your mind?” asked Pink incredulously. “You want us to help the CIA commit mass murder? Bullshit. This is on you.”

  “Our mission has been approved at the highest levels, on both sides of the border. You will appreciate that, as a bonus, our enterprise will be very profitable – up until D-Day.”

  “How profitable?” asked Whyte with genuine interest. “We’ll be partners?”

  “Millions for each of you, legal and tax-free. There will be no DEA raining on your party this time.”

  “You’re one cold-blooded Mengele son-of-a-bitch, dude,” accused Pink. “I won’t do it. You can’t force me, it’s illegal. You must be insane.”

  “Then you will be executed for not following orders. Read the fine print of your enlistment contract. You’re in for the duration.” Lopez beamed. “Finally, we’re taking serious steps to win the galactic war on drugs. This time we will eliminate the source of the blue powder scourge, the low-life users of the criminal underclass.”

  “You’re an asshole!”

  “We’ll do it,” interrupted Whyte, stepping between Lopez and Pink. “My friend Jessie is just concussed from that blow to the head. He’ll come around when the pain stops.”

  “You both blow big time!” Pink insisted.

  “He needs rest and some painkillers,” continued Whyte. “You’ll see. Jessie will be fine.

  “Good. I hope so, for both your sakes. Get settled. You start cooking in a week.”

  * * * * *

  “You can’t be serious,” griped Pink after Major Lopez left. “Yo, that Nazi bitch is crazy.”

  “Exactly,” agreed Whyte patiently. “That is why we need to tread lightly until an opportunity presents itself for us to desert. We will cook, make easy money, and flee rich to another planet. We deserve a break after all we’ve been through.”

  “I won’t murder my customers. I have pride in my product. I sure as hell won’t be Lopez’s bitch. No way. Even you can’t be serious about mass murder. Is that how you want to be remembered by your family?”

  “Of course not. Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. But, in the meantime, you need to get yourself under control. Play along. Hide your crazy. Acting out like you did on Old Earth doesn’t work here. You heard Colonel Czerinski. Everything in the desert conspires to kill us, including spiders. We need to chill in the shade like the creatures of the desert. The Legion has given us a second chance at life, offering restored wealth, health, and status. Fun, travel, and adventure. Be all we can be, an army of two, you and me. We can do this if we work together, Jessie. We deserve better than what we got on Old Earth.”

  “You’ll get what you deserve, I’m sure.”

  “Please, work with me.”

  “Fine, but I’ll kill that punk Lopez when the time comes. And I’m going to get my crew together to move product.”

  * * * * *

  Major Lopez listened intently to their conversation from a hidden wiretap. No matter about Pink’s treason. It could be managed, for now. Those two fools would do his bidding, or else.

  “I’ll let them have their fun for now,” sneered DEA Special Agent Hanks, a shadowy figure that even creeped out Major Lopez. “I’ll wait. But be certain, when this operation is complete, the long arm of justice will reach out across the galaxy and rip their throats out.”

  “That sounded personal,” commented Major Lopez. “What haven’t you told me?”

  “Whyte got his Legion reprieve and new identity by doing me a solid on Old Earth, avenging a buddy’s death. But it wasn’t enough. I’ll kill him and Pink myself before we’re through on New Colorado.”

  Chapter 2

  Badger and Skinny Pete smuggled blue powder across the border from the USGF to the Arthropodan side. They duct-taped packets of blue powder to remote-controlled giant desert tortoises. Ha! Another use for duct tape.

  Smuggling drugs on tortoises was a slow process, but well worth the wait. No one dared mess with a tortoise because they were on the Endangered Species List. Molesting a tortoise was a serious felony on both sides of the border.

  Badger and Skinny Pete patiently watched their tortoise mule slowly navigate its way through a spider minefield. “Maybe we should duct tape blue powder to jackrabbits,” suggested Badger, sweating profusely under the intense New Gobi sun. “At this rate, I’ll be sober before that stupid turtle gets across.”

  “Ever try to catch a jackrabbit?” asked Skinny Pete. “It can’t be done. Just chill. He’s almost to the road.”

  “There’s no chillin’ in one-hundred-twenty-degree heat!”

  “Get down! Spiders!”

  * * * * *

  A column of Arthropodan Marines crested the hill just as the tortoise reached the road. The lead armored car cracked the tortoise’s shell open like a green egg. A cloud of blue powder shot up over the spider marines as the column came to a halt. A spider commander jumped down to inspect the gooey mess.

  “What the hell? This is what happens when you don’t pay attention! Do you know how much paperwork this is going to cause?”

  “No, sir,” replied the driver.

  “Probably a lot. Every one of those slugs-with-shells invasive species from Old Earth is protected by treaty and are on the Protected Species List. Damn it, this is worse than running over those blue lizards and darter snails.”

  “That’s snail darters, sir. They’re fish, and they don’t live in the desert.”

  “See? Extinct already because of reckless drivers like you!”

  The driver and other spider marines inhaled deep breaths as the blue powder cloud drifted past.

  “Don your masks!” ordered a sergeant. “That’s blue powder!”

  “Whatever,” replied the driver, sucking up more of the cloud. “Are we there yet?”

  “I’m there,” answered a gunner. “That’s some quality shit.”

  “Everyone stop breathing!” ordered the spider commander as he examined packets still taped to the tortoise. “Anyone takes another breath, you’re under arrest!”

  Marines crowded around to get a closer look at the accident. The spider commander donned binoculars to scan the distant ridge across the minefield. Sure enough, two human pestilence lay concealed in the sage brush.

  “I see them, too,” advised the sergeant, a bit wobbly. “A fat human pestilence and a skinny one. Shall we open fire?”

  “Capture them for interrogation.”

  * * * * *

  Arthropodan marines deployed across the border, circling behind Badger and Skinny Pete, taking them by su
rprise. The spider commander lorded over the hapless smugglers, pointing his pistol. “You’re under arrest. Who do you work for?”

  “We’re independent contractors,” answered Badger, proudly. “Hey! You spiders can’t arrest us on this side of the border. We’re American citizens. We have rights against alien abductions. It’s in the Constitution somewhere.”

  “Answer my questions, or you die on the spot. Who is your contact on our side? Why didn’t you use jackrabbits?”

  “Shut up with the jackrabbits.”

  The spider back-clawed Badger across the face with his pistol. Badger spit out a tooth as he tried to crawl away, but was stomped on by spider marines.

  “Tell him everything!” shouted Skinny Pete. “These spider dudes mean business. This ain’t Albuquerque.”

  “I can’t be killed,” boasted Badger in a moment of ill-advised bravado. “I’m the loveable sidekick that survived five seasons!”

  “That’s harsh, bro,” interrupted Skinny Pete, sensitive about critics’ comments. “Are you saying I’m not loveable?”

  “You’re an ugly crackhead,” accused Badger.

  “Man, that’s discrimination against crackheads. Talk about the junky calling the user an addict.”

  “Who do you work for?” repeated the spider commander, pointing his pistol at Skinny Pete. “Tell me now!”

  “The Legion,” confessed Skinny Pete, groveling at the commander’s feet. Please don’t shoot me. Can’t we make a deal? I can tell you the location of the Legion’s blue powder lab. Just let me go?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s under the Pizza Hut in New Gobi City.”

  “Not KFC?” asked the spider commander skeptically. “That’s where I would have put it.”

  “No, it’s under Pizza Hut. I swear!”