America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 1: Feeling Lucky

A sweeping military space opera told in the
grand satirical tradition of
Catch-22...

One more roll – that’s all habitual gambler
Joey Czerinski needs to get himself off Old Earth and away from the
bad-ass loan shark hunting him down like a mongrel to be
euthanized. But a sneaky ATM looking to fill its Foreign Legion new
recruits quota has something else in mind for Mr. ‘Big Spender’
Czerinski. When he agrees out of desperation to take a loan from
the crazy ATM, all bets are off.

War is hell, and hell comes knocking when
it’s time for Czerinski to pay up. Forced into the Legion by the
tricky ATM and an unscrupulous lawyer, Czerinski finds himself
deeper in trouble than he’d ever imagined. But what’s one more roll
for a perennial rule-bender? If Czerinski can survive what’s thrown
at him amid galactic war against a spider-like enemy that could
spell doom for the human race, maybe ... just maybe ... he’ll
manage to come out alive in this grisly game of shoot-’em-up – if
his luck holds out.

Licensed and
Produced through

Penumbra
Publishing

www.PenumbraPublishing.com

SMASHWORDS

EBOOK
EDITION

ISBN/EAN-13:
978-1-935563-11-2

Copyright 2009
Walter Knight

All rights
reserved

Also
available in print ISBN/EAN-13:
978-1-935563-12-9

This is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, planets, asteroids, alien species,
evil empires, galaxies far, far way, or future events and
incidents, are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or aliens, living
or dead, events or locales including those on Mars and New
Colorado, is entirely coincidental.

Licensing Note: This ebook is licensed and
sold for your personal enjoyment only. Under copyright law, you may
not resell, give away, or share copies of this book. You may
purchase additional copies of this book for other individuals or
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book but did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use
only, out of respect for the author’s effort and right to earn
income from the work, please contact the publisher or retailer to
purchase a legal copy.

~AUTHOR’S ACKNOWLEDGEMENT~

I want to thank Penumbra
Publishing’s award winning Acquisitions Editor Patricia Morrison
for finding my eleven-book series,
America’s Galactic Foreign Legion
, an
amusing read, and for her outstanding edit.
I also want to
thank my dear wife Barb for not divorcing me for staying up all
night writing my books.

AMERICA’S GALACTIC FOREIGN
LEGION

Book 1: Feeling
Lucky

By

Walter Knight

CHAPTER 1

The bright and seedy United States Galactic
Federation Spaceport & Casino was noisy and busy as usual,
crawling with typical characters I’ve come to recognize. The
lonely, the bored, the desperate, the broke, and of course the
addict needing another gambling fix. I’ve come to know them all
because they are all me, in some way or another. But that wasn’t my
concern tonight. Tonight, the good ol’ United States Galactic
Federation Spaceport & Casino was gonna be my ticket off Old
Earth.

And what was my big hurry to get outta Dodge?
Loan shark Bubba Jones has signed affidavits to have me picked up
for not paying back my loans. Jones also paid the $25,000 needed to
allow lethal force should I resist arrest. With Bubba, it seemed
like everyone resisted arrest. The man holds a grudge. It didn’t
seem right, but it was all legal, signed by the judge and
notarized. Anyway, what do I know, I’m not a lawyer. If there was
any good news about the fix I was in, it was that the warrant for
my arrest was civil in nature, and only bounty hunters could arrest
me. The police wouldn’t get involved in the whole sordid
affair.

I would not be trapped on Old Earth like some
rat in a maze, scrambling about with no money. No money means your
life is nothing, and that was not how it was going to end for me. I
had a plan. It cost $100,000 to take a shuttle to Mars, $50,000
more if I wanted to be beamed to Mars. I had $50,000 in my pocket,
and I was halfway there. I was on a win streak, playing craps at
the casino. How could I lose? By making ‘field’ bets, and
increasing my bet whenever I lost, my progressive betting scheme
was finally paying off. Dice rolls of 2 (pays double) 3, 4, 9, 10,
11, and 12 (pays triple) were winners, while 5, 6, 7, and 8 won for
the Casino. How many times could I lose in a row if I kept doubling
my bet? Eventually I’d have to win. Right? But it seemed like a
losing streak always had a way of sneaking up on me. Now, with only
$25,000 left, and all of it out on the table, I was getting real
nervous. My pulse pounded, and I was soaked with sweat. The dice
rolled…

Five?
No! No, no, no! Why does this always happen to me?

I was broke and still on Old Earth. I looked
around frantically. The couple sitting next to me laughed garishly,
reminding me of evil clowns. I pushed away from the table.

Now what? Get more money
from an ATM? Sure. Why not?
I was already
screwed – why not go all in? I found a Galactic Technologies
Corporation ATM to borrow another $50,000.
Approved! Outstanding!
My credit and
good name were still intact. Of course, if I didn’t pay the money
back, I’d be working on an assembly line for the GT Corporation for
the next two years. But that would never happen. I’d skip out
first. Anyway, gamblers are a naturally optimistic lot. It’s our
weakness. It’s
my
weakness.

I put all $50,000 down on a craps field bet
and the dice rolled…

Six?
Six!
No one could have this much bad
luck!

My shoulders slumped. I had
to get out of here.
No! I can’t handle
this!
I staggered, my knees weak, but I had
to get it together. I couldn’t let Bubba find me.

Then a voice called out, “Psssssst, psssssst!
Hey you, Big Spender. Need some money?”

“
Who said that?” I looked
around, but didn’t see anyone. I patted the gun under my coat for
reassurance.

“
Who do you think? Look over
here. If I was a snake, I would have bit you.”

I spied the ATM tucked away in the corner by
the cashier’s cage. A surge of optimism coursed through me as I
read the lettering on the ATM: ‘United States Galactic Federation
Foreign Legion.’ “Are you for real?” I asked.

“
Of course I am for real,”
said the ATM. “I am the last ATM you will ever need.”

I snorted derisively.

“
I’ll extend you $100,000
credit. Right now. On the spot. What do you say? It’s so easy to
make your financial problems go away.”

“
I don’t think so. I’m no
fool. I heard there was a war about to start somewhere.”

“
There is always a little
war about to start somewhere,” the ATM responded. “What are you,
chicken?”

“
Don’t call me chicken. I
know how this works. If I don’t pay back the loan, it means I just
enlisted in the U.S. Foreign Legion.” I was ready to walk away. “Do
you think I want that?”

“
Come closer and read the
details. I will give you a written contract. You can pay the money
back anytime you want – this month – and spend it any way you want.
Who knows, Big Spender, you might get lucky at the craps table,”
added the ATM.

“
You know about that? Craps
is my game.”

“
I know a lot of things. I
know you owe the GT Corporation $50,000. You owe Bubba Jones
another $50,000. I know Jones is upset and will be here in about
thirty minutes,” said the ATM, smugly.

“
What do you mean Bubba will
be here in thirty minutes?” I asked, my suspicion growing.. “How do
you know that?”

“
I called him,” replied the
ATM.

“
You did
what?
” I reached for my automatic
pistol, wanting to shoot the ATM. That wouldn’t be practical in a
crowded spaceport. I quickly calmed myself, looking about to see if
anyone had noticed my little slip of temper. I seemed to be
invisible to the revelers and staff.

“
Vandalism will not help
your situation, Mr. Czerinski. Bubba and his thug bounty hunters
will be here very soon, and you still have some tough financial
decisions to make.” A tray extended from the ATM. “Put your thumb
on the pad. Take the money. It’s only $100,000. You can pay me back
anytime this month.”

I put my thumb on the extended pad, and a pin
prick drew blood, splattering it over the glass pad. “Ouch!” I drew
away, holding my thumb. “Was that necessary?”

“
Enlisting in the United
States Galactic Foreign Legion is a serious matter. But you are
right. Signing your contract in blood was a bit dramatic.
Politicians came up with that idea to test your sense of humor. You
have about twenty minutes before Bubba Jones gets here.”

“
Aren’t you the least bit
concerned Bubba might catch up and kill me?”

“
Of course I am concerned,”
the ATM said with seeming genuine feeling. “That’s why I keep
telling you Bubba Jones is coming. My recruitment quota for the
month will be set back if Bubba Jones kills you.”

“
You’re facing quotas?” I
did some quick calculations and realized I might end up
short-changed. “Well, I want twice that. I want
$200,000.”

“
You are not worth that
much,” said the ATM. “I have to justify the expense if the Legion
gets stuck with you.”

“
Haven’t you heard of
inflation?” I argued. “A hundred thousand dollars will hardly get
me anywhere these days. And it’s just a loan. I’m not actually
enlisting. I’ll pay it back.”

“
So you say.” The ATM
sounded a bit sarcastic.

“
I have lots of military
training. I’m worth the extra $100,000.”

“
Military records indicate
you have some prior experience,” conceded the ATM. “You were in the
Arizona National Guard back in the day?”

“
Yes. They’re a rough and
tough outfit.”

“
I’m sure,” said the ATM.
“Records show you did not earn your Infantryman’s Badge. How did
you manage to avoid combat along the California border?”

“
I saw combat,” I insisted.
“It’s just that my captain was too lazy to do the paperwork, and my
remaining enlistment was too short for me to care. I just wanted
out.”

“
I do not believe your
explanation,” challenged the ATM. “Among other faults, you are a
compulsive liar.”

“
It’s the truth. Let God
Almighty strike me down with lightning if I’m lying.” Just as I
swore this oath of truthfulness, a baggage handler slammed a cart
into a railing with a loud crack. I flinched and ducked down,
thinking for a second that God had called me out. I looked around.
All was still good in the world. There were no lightning bolts,
yet.

“
Your company commander,
Captain Hill, described you in an evaluation report as resourceful,
but not a team player. He said, and I quote, ‘Corporal Czerinski
never sees the big picture.’ What did Captain Hill mean by
that?”

“
All officers talk that
way,” I said, dismissively. “I was a corporal. Corporals aren’t
supposed to see the big picture. We are just supposed to keep
ourselves and our men alive for the day. You know, take cover and
don’t get shot.”

“
Your psychological profile
says you may have a drinking and gambling problem. Is that
true?”

“
Gambling problem?” I asked.
“No way. It’s not a problem as long as I win. Are you going to loan
me the money or not? There are plenty of other ATMs out there who
want my business.”

“
I know your type,” said the
ATM. “You like to take short cuts. I am going to lend you more
money than you are worth, just to make a point. You will squander
your money trying to show everyone how smart you are. Then you will
be
mine
.”

“
I’m smart enough to stay
out of the Foreign Legion,” I challenged. “That’s all that matters.
I’m feeling real lucky. I can’t lose.”

“
I am going to enjoy
watching you crash and burn,” said the ATM. “It will get
ugly.”