America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 1: Feeling Lucky (9 page)

“
Can’t wait to spend my pay
raise,” Sergeant Lopez said with a laugh.

“
You won’t be spending
anything,” said Private Green. “We are all going to die in these
tunnels.”

“
The General says the Tenth
Fleet is coming,” I repeated loudly for everyone to hear. “They
will get us out.”

“
If you want to tell the
rest of them the Tenth Fleet is going to save us, fine,” said
Green. “But don’t you look me in the eye and say it’s going to
happen. It’s bullshit. The Tenth Fleet isn’t going to save anyone,
and you know it.”

“
All I know is we’re nuking
this place and getting out as soon as possible. And Green, you’re
promoted to corporal. So shut up.”

“
I know one thing,” said
Sergeant Lopez. “We better not get captured.”

“
I wasn’t planning on being
captured,” I said. “Besides, I don’t think they take
prisoners.”

“
I’m serious,” said Sergeant
Lopez. “The spiders will kill us real slow.”

“
What?” I asked.

“
Think about it. We killed
over 300 spiders here today. Big spiders, little spiders, all kinds
of different spiders. And then, we ate them. We cooked them and we
ate them. They’re going to be real pissed off about that,” added
Sergeant Lopez. Lopez then took out a small satchel of looted
diamonds and handed them to me. “And another thing. I don’t want
these anymore. You keep them.”

“
Private Nesbit!” I called
out. “Bring me your nukes!”

“
You can have all three,”
replied Nesbit, handing the nuclear grenades over. “I’m tired of
carrying them around.”

I set the timers on all three nukes. I placed
one nuke on the pile of dead spiders. Another nuke I put in the
middle of the cavern. I kept the third nuke. “Corporal Green,
you’re taking point. Men, we are moving out.”

“
I get promoted to corporal,
but shit still rolls down hill to me,” complained Corporal Green.
“Ain’t that a bitch.”

“
The spiders let our last
point man walk right by,” I explained. “I’m hoping they won’t see
you in the dark.”

“
That’s not funny,” muttered
Corporal Green as he checked his equipment. “That’s not funny at
all. Hero of East L.A.? I don’t believe it. Tenth Fleet? I don’t
believe that either. They’ll promote any Polack right off the
street to officer. We’re all going to die. This is a bunch of shit.
I’d rather face Bubba Jones than do this shit.” Corporal Green
disappeared into the tunnel still muttering. We followed. The
tunnel seamed endless.

* * * * *

My communications pad beeped. I had mail!
Usually my E-mail box was empty, but now it was full of fan mail. I
scrolled through the messages until I found one of particular
interest. It read, ‘Hey, Joey C. I saw you on TV and I think you
are so hot. Imagine my surprise when my sister Patty told me she
met you, and you wanted to meet me. I am so mad at her for chasing
you off. I really want to meet you. Attached are some photos of me.
Do you think my tattoos are sexy? When you get back to Mars, let’s
hook up. I can’t wait. Hugs and kisses, Lisa.’

I had a bad feeling about this tunnel. Green
was going real slow, and I could sense his anxiety. I could smell
the spiders again. Maybe they weren’t here now, but they had been
here recently. The darkness was unnerving. I immediately replied to
Lisa’s E-mail. ‘Dear sweet Lisa: I loved your photos and so did
everyone else. Your photos made my day. Your tattoos are especially
sexy, and I want very much hook up with you. However, I don’t think
I’m getting out of this alive. I want to give you something. There
is a top floor suite at Harrah’s Casino on Mars that has a huge
stuffed grizzly bear at the window. Hidden inside the grizzly’s
foot is a money card. The card has a substantial amount of money on
it. It’s all yours. I love you, Joey C.’

CHAPTER 10

Corporal Green walked quietly in the dark.
His equipment, secured to his body, made no sound as he
deliberately took one cautious step at a time. His light and heat
detecting goggles helped show the way. But Corporal Green never saw
what hit him. A spider jumped from a crevasse in the rock wall and
sprayed Corporal Green with nerve agent. Corporal Green dropped
immediately and was bundled up in web.

Flash-bang grenades went off at my feet,
followed by the sounds of gunfire. I was disorientated. All I could
do for a few seconds was drop to the ground in a fetal position.
Then a gas grenade went off. I yelled a warning of gas to the
platoon as I pulled on my mask and rolled to the side for cover.
The mask was not helping. I started convulsing. The last thing I
remembered was sticking myself with atropine. That didn’t work
either. We were now prisoners of war.

* * * * *

I awoke gradually, opening
my eyes to find myself trapped underground inside a square cage
sitting on bare dirt. I looked over with a start and saw a huge
spider staring at me with its buggy eyes protruding from its ugly
head.
Shit!
Keeping a close eye on the spider, I got up and patted myself
down, checking for injuries. I seemed to be okay.

The spider started moving its mouth, but what
I heard instead of the usual hissing and screeching was a
mechanical voice from a speaker box sitting on the table near the
spider that said, “Human pestilence, you are a prisoner of war. You
will be treated accordingly. Name and Rank?”

“
You first,” I said. “Who
the hell are you, where am I, where are my men – and how the hell
are you talking English?”

With his huge claw appendage, the spider
patted the box on the table beside him. “This is a computer
interpreter and video recording unit. I am #14 of the Attached
Intelligentsia & State Security Unit. Your name and rank?”

“
Lieutenant Joey R.
Czerinski,” I answered. “I want my people accounted
for.”

“
The other prisoners are
fine,” Spider #14 said. “Unlike you, we abide by rules of conduct
regarding the taking and treatment of prisoners. Your men will not
be abused.”

“
The United States Galactic
Federation also has rules safeguarding prisoners of war,” I
challenged. This Nazi looking spider dressed in black garb seemed a
bit upset about something. Or maybe it was just the tone of the
interpreter box on the table.

“
You don’t take prisoners,”
accused #14. “Is that how you get around your so-called rules
ensuring the well being of prisoners of war?”

“
I don’t know what you are
talking about.”

“
We found hundreds of
identification crystals in your pouch. You took them from dead
soldiers, civilian workers, and children?” asked #14.

“
Identification crystals?” I
stared dumbly at the diamond dangling from a gold chain the spider
held in front of me. “So that’s what they are. I didn’t
know.”

“
Yes. Similar to your animal
tags.”

“
You mean dog tags,” I
corrected, pulling mine out to show the spider officer. “I also
have an identification chip imbedded in my ass.”

“
Whatever. The interpreter
box is still building its human vocabulary,” said #14. “This thing
works like a piece of bat shit.” He smacked the interpreter box
with his claw. “Fine. Dog tags. You took identification crystals
from those you killed?”

“
Yes,” I
answered.

“
And of the hundreds you
killed, you took not one prisoner? Not even a baby?” asked
#14.

“
Baby? What baby? I think
Sergeant Lopez was bit by a so-called baby.” I didn’t like the
direction this was going. “We didn’t kill any babies.”

“
You just acknowledged
Sergeant Lopez was bit by a baby. And you took no prisoners. So you
admit to killing babies,” accused #14.

“
I admit to nothing. Are you
accusing me of something?” I asked.

“
I will ask the questions
here. You and the rest of the human pestilence with you had the
legs and arms of babies in your back pouches. Explain that,”
demanded #14.

“
Am I facing charges?” I
asked. I started pacing.

“
Did you explode nuclear
bombs inside a habitat?”

“
Where are all my people?” I
demanded, looking around in the relative darkness.

“
All your soldiers are
fine,” answered #14.

It was hard to see very far, but I finally
noticed the other cages sitting some distance away. “These cages
aren’t big enough. This is inhumane.”

“
Did your mission orders say
to not take prisoners? I warn you, we are reviewing all your
computer downloads, electronic messages, and video camera
recordings. The truth will come out. It will go easier on you if
you cooperate and tell the truth.”

I squinted, looking closer
at the other cages, and saw Corporal Green. Green was bundled up in
a web cocoon hanging upside down. I pointed to Corporal Green. “He
is
not
okay! What
have you done to him?”

#14 looked back over his shoulder at Corporal
Green. “Ah yes, that one. Your Corporal Green refused to cooperate
and answer questions. And, he was rude. Perhaps the interpreter box
isn’t quite working properly yet, but when I asked Corporal Green
questions, his response was to accuse me of having sex with my
mother and then to tell me to go have sex with myself. Is your
Corporal Green mentally unstable, or just some kind of
pervert?”

Corporal Green then yelled out across the
cavern, “There’s nothing wrong with your interpreter box you ugly
mother-fucking goat-fucking sci-fi-crab-faced bug-eyed piece of
shit! Go fuck yourself and the horse you rode in on! I’ll rip your
head off and shit down your neck!”

“
Yes,” I answered. “He’s
insane. Probably battle fatigue. He didn’t really mean that part
about the goats and the horse.”

“
What is the Tenth Fleet?”
asked #14. “What are its capacities?”

“
I don’t see all of my
people here,” I said, scanning the cages again. “One is
missing.”

“
Ah yes,” said #14 as he
stood up and leaned towards the bars, baring fangs. If a spider
could smile, his would have been ear to ear. “You are asking about
the female? We ate her this morning.”

I lunged through the bars, hoping to crush
the spider’s skinny neck. He must have anticipated my rage, because
the spider quickly stepped back and countered with a swipe of his
claw. My hand was severed at the wrist. I collapsed to the ground
in screaming pain, falling to the edge of the cage as blood spurted
into the dirt.

“
I’ll kill you if it’s the
last thing I do,” I ground out, glaring up at the spider officer as
I tore off and wrapped part of my sleeve around my injured arm to
stop the bleeding.

Sergeant Lopez, who had been quietly watching
the interrogation from a cage directly in back of the spider,
pulled a knife from his boot and let it fly. “Usted bicho pequeno
miserable! We will exterminate all of your kind!”

The knife struck deep into the shoulder of
the spider officer. #14 collapsed and fell to the ground, inches
away from my cage. I punched with my good hand but missed when the
spider officer rolled away from me. #14 then drew a handgun and
shot Sergeant Lopez. The commotion drew the attention of the other
spiders stationed in the area. They swung my cage door open and
kicked me into unconsciousness. I faded in and out. I could hear
Corporal Green shouting at the spiders that Sergeant Lopez and I
needed medical attention. I could hear spiders arguing about
whether my condition was serious. The debate centered on why I was
bleeding so much and whether my hand would grow back on its own. A
spider doctor marveled at how creatures without segmented limbs had
survived long enough to evolve into a sentient species. Spider
soldiers insisted their officer get medical aid before any human
pestilence. The wounded spider officer yelled orders to have all
the human pestilence strip searched for weapons and contraband. And
so it went until I woke up, recovering in a clean hospital bed.

CHAPTER 11

I lay
in bed several days, recovering. The guards refused to talk to
me. They just stood in the room staring at me stoically, almost
never moving. I thought maybe the computer translator box by my bed
wasn’t working, but then finally a spider officer came to talk to
me.

“
I am #15 of Intelligentsia
State Security, and your keeper until #14 recovers from his
wounds,” said the new boss, same as the old boss, pacing back and
forth in his black Nazi garb. “I expect more cooperation and
civility than #14 got from you.”

“
#14 is a bit of an asshole,
isn’t he?” I asked.

“
What? I’m sorry, I don’t
think the interpreter box is operating properly,” replied #15 as he
made adjustments on the device. “Please repeat that.”

“
#14, he’s a pain in the
ass? Jerk? No sense of humor?” I clarified.

“
Ah yes,” said #15, now
understanding my meaning. “#14 does walk around like he has a claw
stuck up his poop chute. Thinks he knows it all, too.”

“
Look what he did to my
hand,” I complained, waving my bandaged stump at #15.

“
Yes, very unfortunate. The
doctor tells me you humans can’t grow back lost limbs?” commented
#15.

“
Hell no,” I said bitterly.
“Maybe I’ll end up with a hook or a metal hand, but that’s just not
the same.”