“By treaty, you are required to share the Shenandoah and its secrets with Arthropoda,” I said. “I am giving you exclusive possession by not telling the spiders about the starship.”
“After this last little war, we have a new treaty with the spiders,” said General Kalipetsis. “And it says we get all of New Colorado and everything on it.”
“You are splitting hairs,” I said.
“And you are attempting to blackmail the United States into paying for your silence,” said General Kalipetsis. “Your government appreciates your sacrifices, but extortion will not be tolerated. Neither will treason.”
“My seizure of the Shenandoah was eventually sanctioned by the United States. That means the Shenandoah is a prize ship. I am entitled to a percentage of its worth. Old Earth human history is rich with precedent to support my position.”
“Human history yes,” said General Kalipetsis. “United States history I am not so sure about.”
“Also, under established Admiralty Law I am entitled to salvage rights because the Shenandoah was lost, and I helped you find it,” I argued.
“It was stolen, not lost. I am not a lawyer. Obviously you have had more time to ponder these issues than I have,” said General Kalipetsis. “However, being a legionnaire, you are not entitled to anything you salvage without a special agreement. You work for me.”
“I was a civilian between enlistments. Remember? I kept the Shenandoah safe from the spiders during that time.”
“It does not matter. I am not authorized to pay you anything. And I am certainly not asking Congress to write you a check.”
“Why not?” I asked. “Congress has plenty of money. How about this? We will submit the issue of compensation to an independent arbitrator.”
Agreed,” said General Kalipetsis quickly. “In the meantime, I am transferring you and your company to the most remote part of New Colorado I can find. This will keep the press away from you. I want you out of the public’s eye until the diplomats can smooth things over with Arthropoda. Hopefully the Disneyland prison massacre will be forgotten in a few months.”
“I think I have too many enemies for you to just hide me in some far-off corner of New Colorado,” I commented. “Why did I have to join the Legion? I should have been a serious person and got a real job.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said General Kalipetsis. “Having enemies only means you have stood up for something sometime in your life. It shows you have character.”
* * * * *
“My orders are to take a squad to the North and scout our new home, Finisterra,” I announced. “Lieutenant Lopez, what does Finisterra mean?”
“Finisterra means End of the World,” advised Lopez. “It also can mean Land’s End.”
“Finisterra is about a thousand miles to the north. Engineers will be building a bridge across the New Mississippi River,” I said. “Our Company’s job will be to secure the area and keep the engineers safe from insurgents. This place is really in the middle of nowhere. Load up the armored car with extra food and gas cans. We are going on a road trip. Any questions?”
“Can I drive?” asked Private Washington.
“Yes,” I said. “But God save us. One more thing. We are stopping by a liquor store on the way out of town.”
“Outstanding,” said Sergeant Green. “Finally, we catch a break.”
Newly promoted Corporals Kool, Tonelli, and Ceausescu, and Privates Williams and Nesbit rode in the back with Sergeant Green. Lieutenant Lopez manned the mounted machine gun and cannon. I road shotgun with Private Washington. Spot rode on the roof because he stunk and because everyone was afraid to be near him. We bought Vodka and beer and started drinking immediately.
“Beer is living proof God loves us and wants us to be happy,” said Private Williams. He let out a rebel yell.
“I like vodka too much,” said Private Washington. “That is why I never use it.”
“You are a smart spider,” I said, as I poured vodka into my beer. “Especially since you are driving.”
“Beer is the best damn drink in the world,” said Corporal Kool.
“I see spider hitchhikers up ahead,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “Do you want to pick them up?”
“Oh hell no,” said Sergeant Green. “Run them over.”
“They are young females,” said Private Washington, as he pulled over to stop. “We have room. They should not be hitchhiking at night. There are too many unsavory types out and about.”
“Hello human pestilence,” said the first spider to get into the armored car. She sat between me and Private Washington. “My name is Pam. These are my slutty sisters Sam, Bam, Jan, and Fran. Can you take us to the edge of town?”
“Spider babes?” commented Private Williams, giving another rebel yell. “Want some beer and vodka?”
“Why are you going to the edge of town?” I asked, as I passed beer and vodka to Pam and her sisters.
“We are going to the drive-in theater,” said Pam.
“What is playing?” asked Corporal Ceausescu.
“It is a brand new horror film called Massacre at Habitat #40,” said Pam. “It is supposed to be so scary it was almost rated X. Want to come with us?”
“In an armored car?” I asked.
“I think your car is awesome,” said Pam. “There is so much room.”
“Hell yes,” said Lieutenant Lopez, leaning on his machine gun. “Let’s go to a movie.”
Everyone let out a cheer as Private Washington swerved hard to the right and entered the drive-in theater. We had to park way in the back because of the high profile of the armored car.
“I did not know our kind were allowed in the Foreign Legion,” said Pam, as she put her hand on Private Washington’s Legion shoulder patch. “You look very handsome in that uniform.”
“I am not one of your kind,” corrected Private Washington. “I am green. You are black.”
“Once you have gone black, you will never go back,” Pam said with a giggle as she pawed at Private Washington’s buttons. “Fran! Lets rape this big green cutie!”
“I would love to,” replied Fran as she jumped up front and attacked Private Washington.
The commotion shoved me out the passenger’s side door. I fell face-first in the dirt. I could no longer walk because I was drunk, so I crawled to the next car. It contained a family of spiders. I gripped the car and pulled myself up to a standing position. The driver was very upset. “You human pestilence are a disgrace,” said the driver. “You are degenerates with no morals.”
I could not understand most of what the driver said. My head was spinning, and I was about to fall over. I urinated on the side of the car as he rolled up his windows and drove off. I fell backwards.
“Do you think we should assist Washington?” asked Corporal Kool, as he peered over the cab divider at the fight in the front seat. Washington appeared to be losing.
“Yes, help me!” pleaded Private Washington. “Help! Get them off me!”
“No, don’t interfere,” said Lieutenant Lopez, as he watched the movie. It was a war movie. It upset Lieutenant Lopez because the spiders were winning. “Spiders have rough mating rituals. Private Washington is having the time of his life.”
“That is so hot,” said Corporal Kool, still peering at the fight.
“Help me,” cried Private Washington, again.
Lieutenant Lopez fired a burst from his machine gun at the movie screen. Then he fell back into the bed of the armored car, excusing his action with, “Damn spiders were overrunning our position. I had to do something.”
Corporal Kool turned his attention to Corporal Ceausescu. She was snuggled up against Sergeant Green. An angry spider a few cars down threw a vodka bottle at the armored car, but Corporal Kool didn’t much care. “Hey Elena, want to do a threesome?”
“Gross!” said Corporal Ceausescu. “Not if you were the last pig in the galaxy.”
Private Nesbit asked Jan if she wanted to walk with him to the conce
ssion stand to buy some popcorn. She said yes, and they walked off together hand in claw.
I was still lying on my back. Bam approached me, but I drew my pistol and aimed it at her. She pouted and went back to the armored car where she snuggled in against Ceausescu.
“You humans are so hot-blooded,” said Bam. “It is like going to bed with my very own hot rock.”
“I am a female,” said Corporal Ceausescu. “Get your claw off my ass.”
“Excuse me,” said Bam, now frustrated. “I could not tell the difference because you dress the same and your markings are hard to read.”
“I think you are so hot,” said Corporal Kool, as he handed Bam another beer. “Give me a kiss.”
“You are just the cutest little fuzz ball I have ever met,” said Bam, as she wrapped eight arms and legs around Corporal Kool. They rolled out of the car and onto the ground.
Sam leered at Tonelli, Williams, and Lopez. “What is a girl going to do with so much variety?” she asked. “I will take all three of you.”
“I am not drunk enough,” replied Guido, when Sam gazed at him.
“It would be a sin,” added Lieutenant Lopez, crossing himself as he pulled himself back up to the machine gun.
“A coward and a religious fanatic,” commented Sam, shaking her head in disapproval. Her eyes locked on Williams.
“You are all mine,” said Private Williams, sounding off with another rebel yell as they embraced and fell over.
“That is disgusting,” said Corporal Ceausescu as she and Sergeant Green left to find some privacy on a blanket underneath the armored car.
“It’s the cops!” warned Lopez, aiming his machine gun at the police car. The police car approached with blue lights flashing.
Two newly appointed spider deputy sheriffs got out of the police car. I staggered up to them and gave the largest one a hug. “I am so glad you came,” I slurred. “Someone threw a vodka bottle at our car.”
“Who fired the machine gun at the movie screen?” asked one of the deputies.
“I don’t know,” said Lopez, still using the machine gun to hold himself up. “I think the screen already had holes in it before we arrived.”
“That’s right,” said Corporal Kool. “It did.”
Pam popped her head out the window and shouted, “Go away! We are busy!”
“I noticed you all have been drinking,” said the spider deputy sheriff. “Do you have an alcohol permit?”
“Do you have a permit to ask stupid questions?” I asked back.
“We don’t need no stinking permits,” added Lieutenant Lopez.
Corporal Ceausescu, who was still under the armored car, got quite upset about being interrupted. She used her rifle butt to reach out and strike the deputy sheriff in the ankle. He hopped away from the car, yelling in pain. “You are under arrest,” said the spider deputy sheriff. “Come out from under there!”
“Try and come under here and get me,” challenged Corporal Ceausescu. “You think you’re male enough?”
“No one is under arrest,” I slurred. “We are an army of occupation. You cannot arrest us.”
“Civil authority has been established in Disneyland, and the Legion is leaving,” said the spider deputy sheriff. “We have elected a new mayor and a new sheriff. I have the authority to arrest all of you.”
“Either no one gets arrested, or we all get arrested,” I said. “We are the Legion. We will not let you take one of us without a fight from all of us.”
The spider deputy sheriff drew his pistol. Lieutenant Lopez aimed his machine gun. Everyone else that wasn’t passed out reached for their assault rifles.
“Now take it easy,” I said. “She is just a girl. You don’t want to arrest a girl, do you? Drunk females are more trouble than they’re worth.”
“You let a girl kick your ass,” baited Corporal Ceausescu. “Come on. You want a piece of me?”
The spider deputy sheriff looked closer at Corporal Ceausescu. She vomited on Sergeant Green, who was now passed out. “The theater manager wants all of you out of here,” said the spider deputy sheriff. “Leave! Do it now. And don’t come back.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, as I tried to hug the deputy again.
He gave me a shock with his electric baton. “No hugs!”
Everyone gathered up their clothes, and we left. Private Williams threw a beer bottle at a spider police car as we passed by. We dropped the spider babes off at a Denny’s Restaurant.
“I promise to write,” said Pam as she waved at Private Washington.
“Bye honey,” yelled Fran.
“I love you,” called out Private Williams as we left town. He let out another rebel yell.
About two hundred miles outside of town, Sergeant Green woke up. He immediately started counting bodies. Someone was missing. “Where is Nesbit?” he asked.
“Getting popcorn?” said Private Williams.
“Captain! We are missing Private Nesbit,” said Sergeant Green.
“Good,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “I hope he gets arrested.”
“We need to go back and find him,” insisted Sergeant Green. “The insurgents might get him.”
“Jan will get him first,” said Corporal Ceausescu. “A fate worse than death.”
“To hell with Nesbit,” I said. “He is a fool, anyway. I’ll radio for the MPs to pick him up. Nesbit can join us later with the engineers.”
<
CHAPTER 7
The north of New Colorado was a vast unexplored forest wilderness. Along the North Highway there was no traffic because there were no services. Gasoline was airlifted to predetermined locations. We could have been airlifted ourselves, but I thought a road trip would be more fun. After combat, my troops needed to unwind. I needed to unwind. Yesterday at the movies was part of my plan. This drive would be the rest of it. Also, General Kalipetsis wanted the North Highway checked for signs of insurgents and bandits. About eight hundred miles into the trip, we came upon a spider and his donkey. He looked just like an Old West prospector, complete with overloaded pack animal.
“What is the human pestilence doing up here?” asked the prospector. “Is the Legion trying to start another war?”
“The war already happened,” I explained. “It is over now.”
“I missed it. Oh well, no big deal,” said the prospector. “I guess Arthropoda lost, or you would not be here on our side of the DMZ. Why are you here? Sightseeing?”
“Looking for insurgents. Have you seen any?”
“I thought you said the war was over.”
“Some are slow learners,” said Sergeant Green.
“There is no one up here except me and Shaky Jake,” said the prospector, patting his donkey. “It gets too damn cold up here in the winter for most city boys.”
“Are you prospecting for gold?” asked Lieutenant Lopez.
“He ain’t too bright, is he?” asked the prospector. “Of course I am looking for gold. Why else would I freeze my mandibles off digging in the cold hard ground?”
“Find any gold?” I asked.
“Now that is for me to know and for you to not find out,” said the prospector. “You have to have a special eye to find gold on New Colorado. How long are you going to be up here poking your snout where it don’t belong?”
“Maybe a few months,” I said. “We will be security for the new bridge they are going to build at Finisterra. You will be seeing the engineers trucking their heavy equipment through here in about a week.”
“There goes the neighborhood,” said the prospector. “I’ll give you some advice since we are going to be neighbors. First thing, you tell those engineers when you see them to build you some cabins. And you might ask them to bring some warm clothes, too. It’s going to be getting real cold up here, soon.”
“How cold is real cold?” asked Corporal Tonelli.
“Cold enough to make a black and green popsicle out of that dragon of yours. H
e is not going to be happy up here. Keep that monster away from my donkey.”
“I’ve been feeding Spot dog food because he is not allowed to eat humans or spiders anymore,” said Tonelli. “He does seem to have taken an interest in your donkey.”
“Just turn him loose when you get to where you are going,” said the prospector. “He can eat all the deer he wants. They are everywhere. Maybe he will share a venison steak with you. It’s real tasty.”
“You can eat deer?” asked Tonelli. “Are they dangerous?”
“Tonelli has led a sheltered life,” said Private Williams. “Of course you can eat deer. I’ll take you hunting with me.”
“Just be careful and on the lookout for Big Foot,” warned the prospector.
“There is no such thing as Big Foot,” I said. “Big Foot is just an Old Earth legend.”
“We have the same legend on Arthropoda. You are probably right,” said the prospector. “But there is something out there. I have heard it scream at night. And, I have seen gutted deer.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough ghost stories around the campfire,” said Corporal Ceausescu. “Let’s get going. This place gives me the creeps.”
“How about selling me one of those gold pans hanging from your donkey?” asked Corporal Kool. “I’ll give you twenty dollars for it.”
“I have no use for money out here,” said the prospector. “Trade me something.”
“How about this?” asked Corporal Kool, handing the prospector a grenade. “It might be useful if you ever come face to face with Big Foot.”
“Son, throw in your hat and you just bought yourself a gold pan,” said the prospector.
* * * * *
Finisterra was nothing more than a fork in the river. We set up tents and portable heaters. A snowflake occasionally dropped from the overcast sky. I walked down to the river bank where the bridge construction would begin. Survey markers and posts were already in place. To my left a grenade went off in the water. I dropped into the mud for cover.
America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 2: Reenlistment Page 6
