“Anything that inconveniences the human pestilence is good,” insisted the spider commander. “Our mischief keeps the humans from plotting against us.”
“What about these media reports of Most Wanted terrorist Ross AKA Miranda AKA Lieutenant Barker commanding the legionnaires that destroyed Window Rock?” asked the governor.
“Colonel Czerinski denied that claim,” replied the spider commander. “He considers questions about Window Rock to be interference in their internal affairs and a provocation. The human pestilence are very touchy about sovereignty issues.”
“But is it true about Lieutenant Barker?” asked the governor.
“Yes,” said the spider commander. “They are one and the same.”
“I will seek extradition of Lieutenant Barker,” said the governor. “If my request is denied, kill Barker.”
“He may already be dead,” said the spider commander. “There are reports from Window Rock that a suicide car-bomber rammed Barker’s command vehicle.”
“Find out for sure,” ordered the governor. “I want that terrorist dead.”
* * * * *
The plan was for Arthropodan commandos to parachute at night onto the roof of New Gobi Hospital. Commandos would force open maintenance doors, storm the hospital, and capture or kill Lieutenant Barker as he slept. A call to the receptionist desk already provided a room number.
However, because of security concerns, Captain Lopez posted legionnaires on the roof of the hospital and at Lieutenant Barker’s room. As the spider commandos floated down, they could see legionnaires walking about on the roof. One legionnaire had a leashed monitor dragon. The dragon looked up and hissed out an alarm. Commandos desperately fired at the muzzle flashes from the legionnaires below. Five commandos were quickly killed. Four other commandos veered off course to save themselves, but were soon captured.
* * * * *
In the morning, I was on the phone to the local spider commander. He denied any and all wrongdoing.
“There were commandos dropping out of the sky last night, attacking my hospital,” I accused. “Explain that!”
“Our paratroopers have been practicing night jumps all week,” replied the spider commander. “Notice of our routine training exercises was posted in newsvids to prevent alarm and UFO reports. A few paratroopers must have been blown off course. That is no reason to shoot my soldiers during time of peace. I thought we had an understanding about how to handle accidental border crossings. I demand my marines immediately be released, and that you account for their safety.”
“Most of your commandos were killed when they attacked the hospital,” I advised. “Your provocation is just one more of many.”
“And you do not consider the massacre at Window Rock a provocation?” asked the spider commander. “You allow terrorists to join your Legion, and look what happens!”
“If your failed attack on the hospital was an attempt to kill Lieutenant Barker, he has already been moved to a more secure place. Any more adventurism or attempts on his life will be considered acts of war. I will hold you personally responsible.”
“Lieutenant Barker is a separate issue. I demand the safe return of my trainees.”
“Whatever,” I said. “First your commandos will be interviewed. Then General Kalipetsis will decide their fate. Personally, I’m voting for firing squads.”
“You would not dare. The Empire will not tolerate the kidnapping or custodial abuse of its troops.”
“We need to set up a face-to-face meeting to negotiate. Perhaps a prisoner swap?”
“I am not holding any of your human pestilence.”
“Maybe you are holding prisoners elsewhere,” I argued. “Check your other local lockups. Are we still on for poker tonight? We can discuss it then.”
“At your club?” asked the spider commander. “Of course, I will be there. Have I ever missed a Saturday night of poker at the Blind Tiger? Prepare to lose the rest of your money.”
“You got lucky last time,” I said. “But your luck will run out.”
“Whatever – as you human pestilence are so fond of saying,” said the spider commander. “Talk is cheap, victory is sweet.”
* * * * *
Lieutenant Barker and Sergeant Toock were moved from the hospital to my personal bunker deep below my office at Legion Headquarters. Lieutenant Barker was now awake and recovering. Sergeant Toock still needed to grow back limbs and appendages. For ants, that was no problem. He would be okay when the pain stopped. Both were ordered to stay in bed and rest for a week.
“I’ve been in this bunker system once before, back when the spiders last bombed us,” commented Lieutenant Barker. “These tunnels connect all of New Gobi.”
“I had no idea Czerinski had living quarters underground,” said Sergeant Toock. “He should have told us about these tunnels. They could be important during an emergency.”
“Familiarize yourself with as much of this tunnel bunker system as you can,” ordered Lieutenant Barker. “As you say, it may be useful later. Perhaps G Company can build its own bunkers and connect into these.”
“You have no need to be snooping about our tunnels,” interrupted Captain Lopez, standing just outside the door, listening. “There are already air-raid shelters and bunkers for you and your men. These tunnels are for strategic use. Consider yourself lucky that Colonel Czerinski feels so strongly about your safety as to allow you down here for even a short time. Usually there is no access unless nukes go off.”
“Why would Colonel Czerinski be concerned for my safety?” asked Lieutenant Barker. “That seems a bit off his baseline.”
“Colonel Czerinski is your commanding officer,” advised Captain Lopez. “As such, you are an extension of his will. Colonel Czerinski would no more wish you harm than he would want to lose his right arm.”
“Thank the good colonel for putting us up in his personal quarters,” said Sergeant Toock. “His generosity is appreciated and will not be forgotten.”
Lieutenant Barker remained silent and suspicious. He wondered if the room was bugged with listening devices. “I need my uniform and sidearm,” he said. “Hospital pajamas aren’t my style. They leave me feeling exposed.”
“You are confined to this room until the doctor says otherwise,” said Captain Lopez. “I’ll see what I can do to bring you some of your personal property and uniforms. Don’t worry; you won’t be here all that long.”
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Chapter 6
“You’ve got mail,” chimed my communications pad. It was a text from Lieutenant Valerie Smith, retired. “Hi, sweetie. I sent an attachment for you to download into one of those illegal learning chips I heard you have embedded in your bones. Enjoy. Hugs and smooches.”
I had one of our Legion information technology geeks check out the attachment. Not completely trusting Valerie, I did not want to catch a virus. The tech geek said the attachment was a very sophisticated virtual reality program.
“I have never seen anything quite like this,” said the tech geek. “This program must be a very expensive prototype. It is the very latest breakthrough technology. It almost looks alien. Even Microsoft can’t do this. Where did you get it?”
“That is a military top-secret,” I said. “Why is this program special?”
“It’s a communications program that will project an image into a chip in your brain that will make images seem real,” explained the tech geek.
“Why would I want do that?” I asked. “Wouldn’t hallucinations cause a mental breakdown? I do not want anyone inside my mind.”
“The program would allow you to touch the person you are communicating with,” said the tech geek. “This is real hot stuff, if it works. Can I have a copy to study?”
“That would be treason,” I said. “You don’t have the security clearance. Don’t even consider making a copy or telling anyone about this.”
“Yes, sir,” said the tech geek, as he downloaded a copy anyway.
“Is it safe?
Could someone communicating with me reach out through space and assault me?”
“Theoretically the sender could inflict pain,” said the tech geek. “But it would be imaginary, and you could disconnect at any time. The only way you could be injured would be if you had a heart attack, or went into shock, or maybe fell, or something like that.”
“Could I have sex with the person I was communicating with? Would the image be that real?”
“That would be awesome!” exclaimed the tech. “I never thought of that. This technology could be worth billions of dollars. Where did you really get it?”
“From the grave,” I said. “Which is where you will end up if this gets out. Understand?”
* * * * *
“Hi, sweetie,” texted Valerie. “When are we going to hook up?”
“When Hell freezes over,” I replied. “I do not want you inside of me.”
“But I so much want you inside of me,” said Valerie. “Please. What’s the matter? Are you chicken? Afraid of little old me?”
“You are a computer memorial implant,” I said. “It could be dangerous to allow a computer inside my mind. I don’t trust computers. I need to study the implications.”
“The best minds at Arlington National Cemetery created this software,” said Valerie. “It’s a prototype, but they assure me of its absolute safety.”
“Are others using this technology?” I asked.
“Surprisingly, no,” said Valerie. “Most memorial imprints are content with the status quo. Also, there is the danger that because we imprint memorials initiated the research and development on this technology, humanity might feel threatened, and disconnect us. There is a need for secrecy. But I am in love with you, dearest. I want so much to reach out and touch you, sweetie.”
“I am still uncomfortable with this,” I insisted. “Give me time to think about it.”
“Fine!” said Valerie. “You use me for your illegal gambling scheme, but you won’t touch me? Do you think I am some kind of monster like Frankenstein or an ATM intent on conquering the galaxy?”
Valerie disconnected, giving me the silent treatment. Not good. I need to keep her happy.
* * * * *
I spend most of my weekends at the Blind Tiger Tavern and Casino. I own the place. Business is good because the Blind Tiger is the only casino allowed to operate in New Gobi. It started out as a tent, but quickly outgrew that. I hope to have hotel towers soon. Being Military Commander of New Gobi, I issue business licenses. No one but me will ever operate a casino here in New Gobi. Call it a perk of command.
Besides being a very profitable business, the Blind Tiger is a good place for interspecies interaction – and spying. I keep in regular contact with my counterpart across the DMZ. The local spider commander and I are friendly enough to play low-stakes poker every Saturday night. We do not trust each other, and I may have to kill him someday, but we are almost friends. In fact, I will kill him someday. At the beginning of each game, the spider commander has me scanned for electronic mind-reading devices designed to pick up spider frequencies and translate thoughts from his antennae. The fool has trust issues. I would not do such a thing in a friendly low-stakes poker game. This is how rumors get started.
Spiders already have an advantage over humans when playing Texas hold ’em. Their completely stoic exoskeleton facial features are unreadable, while humans twitch and shift at every glance of our cards. I wear sunglasses to help hide eye movement and facial expression, but it has taken years of practice and experience to fool good spider players.
The next Saturday-night game was about to take place. Lieutenant Barker and Sergeant Took were recovered enough to join me for tonight’s game. I invited them on a whim. In retrospect, I feared that was an ill-chosen decision.
“You tried to murder me, you asshole,” said Lieutenant Barker, glaring across the table at the spider commander. “I’ll see your hundred and raise you one-fifty.”
“Did you bring many bodyguards?” asked Sergeant Toock. “I do not see many present. Too bad for you. I match that bet and raise to five hundred.”
“I really don’t see how you are going to get out of here alive,” threatened Lieutenant Barker, continuing in the same vein. “Are you in or out?”
“I fold,” announced the spider commander. “Colonel Czerinski has guaranteed my safety at these games. He is a personal friend of mine. It would not sit well for interspecies relations if something were to happen to me.”
“Colonel Czerinski is drunk on his ass, drooling on his uniform,” replied Lieutenant Barker. “He probably doesn’t even know where he is right now.”
“That’s not true!” I blurted out, alerting to the mention of my name. “I know approximately where I am at all times. I’ll match your five hundred and raise you two dollars.”
“Where are you?” asked Captain Lopez.
“I’m in Topeka!” I answered proudly, just before vomiting on the table full of cash and chips. I fell forward onto the pile. Players jumped aside to avoid being splashed with the blow-by.
Captain Lopez and Guido picked me up and carried me to another table, propping me up against the wall. Bored, and not yet willing to pass out, I downloaded Valerie’s program into my communications pad.
“I love you, too,” I texted.
Lieutenant Valerie Smith, the most beautiful woman in all the galaxy, immediately sat down at my table. She smiled. No one else could see her but me.
“It is a good thing I cannot smell the vomit and beer,” said Valerie, disapprovingly. “Have you been drinking?”
“Only a few beers,” I said. “Maybe twenty?”
“So you finally got enough courage to call me, by getting drunk?” asked Valerie.
“I’m not drunk. I’m just intoxicated by your lovely presence.”
“Liar!”
“Am I bad?” I asked. “”Are you going to spank me?”
“Probably,” said Valerie, pouting. “I’m getting a headache. We should try this another time. You are too wasted.”
“You look very beautiful tonight,” I said. “I like what you did with your hair.”
“That won’t work,” said Valerie.
“I love you very much,” I said. ‘Don’t leave.”
Valerie smiled and took me by the arm. We staggered to my office at Legion Headquarters. We made wild passionate love on my desktop. The tech geek was right. Valerie’s computer upgrade could be worth a lot of money. I was foreseeing the day when cemetery babes were pimped out all across the galaxy. Sex with Valerie was incredible. I woke up naked, cold, and alone on my desk Sunday morning with yellow paper ‘post its’ stuck to my body.
Someone was pounding on the front door. What have I done?
I ignored whoever it was, vomited on the floor beside my desk, just missing the waste paper basket, and went back to sleep. I felt like I had just crossed over to the Dark Side.
* * * * *
Someone threw a grenade at the spider commander and his bodyguards as they crossed the Military Demarcation Line going home. Most of the spiders survived with only slight injuries. No suspects were seen or apprehended. Lieutenant Barker and Sergeant Toock had airtight alibis. They were still at the Blind Tiger celebrating and counting all the money they won from the spiders. Both denied any involvement. Captain Lopez tried to inform me about the incident, but I could not be located. I finally found out when I returned to the Blind Tiger for breakfast Sunday afternoon. I felt hung-over and swore again to stop drinking. I needed to set a better example for my legionnaires. Pastor Jim joined me at the bar between services.
“I had sex with a dead person,” I confessed. “Does that mean I’m going to Hell?”
“Yes,” answered Pastor Jim. “Most definitely. Your chances of making it into Heaven are now zero.”
“Is there no wiggle room on that?” I asked. “There might be extenuating circumstances in my favor.”
“Sorry,” said Pastor Jim. “It’s right at the beginning of the B
ible. Anyone who has sex with the dead will burn in Hell for all eternity.”
“What if the sex wasn’t really physical, but was more mental?” I asked.
“Lusting after the dead isn’t much better,” advised Pastor Jim. “I’d say you’re still toast.”
“Thanks a lot. I’m glad we had this conversation. I feel better now.”
“The technology of the mind is my favorite subject,” said Pastor Jim, lapsing into sermon mode. “What kind of trouble are you in now? What is this ‘mostly mental’ garbage?”
“I’m in deep up to my chin this time,” I said. “I think the slightest wave will drown me.”
“Care to discuss the matter in more detail?” asked Pastor Jim.
“No.”
“It cannot be as bad as you are letting on. I know you are basically a good person. Well, not a good person, but you wouldn’t engage in any beastly pursuits, unless you were drunk, which is often, every weekend in fact, and sometimes during mid-week. Oh, hell, Joey. There’s no saving you. You’re doomed. See you at church later tonight? I think you need a double session.”
“I can’t wait,” I replied. “See you there.”
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Chapter 7
For the first time, human and spider insurgents met to discuss a common agenda. Usually they just shot at each other. Both insurgencies wanted an independent New Colorado, free of the Arthropodan Empire and the United States Galactic Federation. They wanted no interference from either imperialist regime and wanted them to go home and leave the planet to those who were born on New Colorado. The insurgents differed on how New Colorado would be ruled, but those minor details could be worked out or fought over after independence was achieved.
America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 5: Insurgency Page 4
