America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 2: Reenlistment (21 page)

“That grenade ain’t real,” said one of the
oil rig workers. “Rush him!”

Private Krueger pressed the timer button on
the grenade and tossed it at the feet of the oil rig workers.
Everyone dove for cover. Shrapnel from the explosion injured about
six oil rig workers. The legionnaires ran out the front door during
the chaos. They kept running until they reached the other side of
town, where they found another tavern.

Corporal Wayne read the signs in front of the
tavern. The place was called the Arthropoda Tavern. Another sign
read ‘English Spoken Here.’ “This looks like a good place,”
commented Corporal Wayne. “There will be no more fighting and no
more grenades. This is a respectable place.”

A large spider bouncer met them at the door.
He blocked their entry. “There are no lizards and no human
pestilence allowed inside,” the bouncer announced.

“See?” said Corporal Wayne. “I told you it
was a respectable place.”

“We are the Legion,” slurred Private Krueger.
“We will go anywhere we please.”

“Do you see that little human pestilence?”
asked Corporal Wayne, pointing at Private Krueger. “He is crazy.
You don’t want to upset him. He just blew up the North Slope Tavern
because someone said a lot less to him than what you just said.
Call the North Slope if you don’t believe me.”

The bouncer made some phone calls. The
manager soon arrived and greeted them. “Of course we are pleased to
have the Legion as our guests,” he said. “It’s just that spider
drinks are much too strong for human consumption. You might be
accidentally poisoned, and we want to avoid that kind of scandal. I
certainly meant no slight toward the Legion.”

“Too strong for humans?” asked Private
Krueger, brushing past the manager and seating himself on a bar
stool. “I’ll take that risk. I heard you bugs like vodka. Bring it
on!”

“This might not be such a good idea,” advised
Private Camacho, as he followed Private Krueger. Looking about, he
saw nothing but spider patrons. “This don’t look safe.”

“Got any music?” asked Tonelli, ignoring the
stares. “This place is dead.”

“I like it here,” said Corporal Wayne, eyeing
a gaggle of alluring spider females sitting in the corner.

“You better check Krueger for more grenades,”
suggested Tonelli. “This is the last tavern we can get kicked out
of. There’s no more for a thousand miles.”

“Krueger will pass out soon,” replied
Corporal Wayne, as he approached the females. “The shrimp can’t
hold his liquor. You baby-sit Krueger. I am going to be busy.”

* * * * *

Lieutenant Lopez arrived at the North Slope
Tavern to investigate a wild report that Legionnaires had bombed
the place.
Impossible! The tavern is still here,
he thought.
Corporal Ceausescu came along to render first aid if needed.
Privates Brown, Scoggins, and Washington came along because they
were required to follow Corporal Ceausescu. All were upset because
they were beginning to sober up, an unacceptable condition for
young legionnaires on a two-day pass.

“It is about time you got here,” complained
the bartender. “I should have called the sheriff.”

“You calling the sheriff’s office isn’t going
to do any good, because we don’t have a sheriff yet,” explained
Lieutenant Lopez. “Are you sure it was legionnaires who damaged
your place?”

“Of course I’m sure!” replied the bartender.
‘They wore Legion uniforms. How hard can it be to find that motley
looking group? Do you realize how much business I lost
tonight?”

“I have a better question,” said Lieutenant
Lopez. “Do you realize how much business you will lose if I drop a
two thousand block of cement from space on to the roof of your
tavern?”

“Lots,” answered the bartender, meekly.

“Good. Get over whatever happened here
tonight or else,” ordered Lieutenant Lopez. “I’m sure my
legionnaires did not intentionally bomb your tavern. If you ever
make that accusation again, you will find out the hard way what it
is really like to have the Legion bomb your tavern.
Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said the bartender.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Lopez stayed at the North Slope,
accepting free drinks for the rest of the night. Corporal Ceausescu
led her charges across town in search of another tavern. She didn’t
like hanging out with Lopez. They found the Arthropoda Tavern. A
spider bouncer met them at the door, shrugged, and let the
legionnaires enter. By now the band was playing weird spider music.
Corporal Ceausescu looked about, sizing up the crowd. The place was
busy and full of spiders.

Private Camacho was at the bar. He pointed
up, then waved for her to come over. She saw Private Krueger
wrapped in a web cocoon for drunkenness, hanging upside down from
the ceiling. Krueger vomited between screams, demanding to be let
down. Corporal Wayne was in a corner booth, kissing on four female
spiders.
Gross!
Corporal Tonelli was on stage playing a
saxophone type instrument with the band. His dragon, who also had
been drinking vodka, lay under the bar counter. He appeared to be
dead. Corporal Ceausescu poked Spot with a pool stick. No response.
Then she sat on a stool next to Private Camacho.

“What’s with Krueger?” asked Corporal
Ceausescu, watching him sway back and forth. “Did he really set off
a grenade at the North Slope?”

“Krueger can’t handle his liquor,” replied
Private Camacho, as he placed his hand on Ceausescu’s knee. “He
gets stupid.”

Corporal Ceausescu removed Private Camacho’s
hand from her leg and ordered beer mixed with vodka. Private
Camacho put his hand back on her leg, caressing its full length.
Corporal Ceausescu gulped her drink, then reached for her combat
knife. She looked Private Camacho in the eyes. “Oh what the hell,”
she said, embracing and kissing him passionately. Spiders near them
cheered and raised their drinks in a toast.

“Why don’t you two get a room?” suggested the
bartender, slightly annoyed at such brazen human pestilence
behavior.

“You have rooms here?” asked Private
Camacho.

“No,” replied the bartender. “Most lovers
just go up to the roof. It’s upstairs.”

Ceausescu and Camacho left together. Female
spiders approached Privates Washington, Brown, and Scoggins.
Washington displayed his wedding rings and was left alone after
mild protests. The females loved Private Brown’s Legion uniform.
Spiders in the Legion was a novel concept for them, and they liked
it. Private Brown fell into their arms and was carried away. Soon
Private Scoggins wandered off with a couple female spiders too. He
was never seen or heard from again.

* * * * *

All leave at Camp Alaska was canceled because
of drunk and disorderly complaints. The armored car was repaired,
and Lieutenant Lopez was busy checking out its computer systems.
Sergeant Green and Corporal Wayne arrived as ordered to assist.

“I am pleased with your progress, Corporal
Wayne,” commented Lieutenant Lopez. “You’re a born leader and
obviously well trained in your past life.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Corporal Wayne. “I
love the Legion life.”

“I want you to learn how to run the computer
systems for the command car,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “You will fly
the drone and call in air strikes in case something happens to me
or Sergeant Green.”

Corporal Wayne leaned over the computer
screen. A green glow filled the small space inside the armored car.
Lieutenant Lopez and Sergeant Green stared at Corporal Wayne in
disbelief. His face awash in green light, they both recognized
General Electric. Lieutenant Lopez drew his pistol. Sergeant Green
aimed his assault rifle.

“What is this?” asked Corporal Wayne. “What
did I do?”

“You are an insurgent,” accused Lieutenant
Lopez, cocking his pistol. “Admit it!”

“I will not,” protested Corporal Wayne. “I
was a Special Forces marine sent to assist the insurgency. But that
is over now. I am a loyal legionnaire.”

“You deny you are General Electric?” asked
Lieutenant Lopez. “I dare you to deny who you are.”

“I used to be General Electric,” admitted
Corporal Wayne. “But now I am a corporal in the Legion. I have a
valid enlistment contract.”

“Screw your contract!” yelled Lieutenant
Lopez, grabbing Corporal Wayne by the collar and shoving him
against a bulkhead. “You are an insurgent! You cannot ever be in
the Legion!”

“For that small technicality you would force
me out of the Legion?” asked Corporal Wayne. “But you had no
problem letting Krueger in?”

“I will kill you,” said Lieutenant Lopez.

“Kick me out. Kill me. It is all the same,”
said Corporal Wayne. “If I cannot be in the Legion, I want to die
anyway.”

“Maybe we should let Captain Czerinski make
the call on this one,” suggested Sergeant Green. “Catching General
Electric is a big deal. He should be interrogated.”

“Captain Czerinski would shoot G.E. on the
spot without discussion,” said Lieutenant Lopez, holstering his
pistol. “I’ll let you stay in the Legion, for now. Go back to the
barracks. Remember, we will be watching you.”

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CHAPTER 17

Today I met the new recruits. Lieutenant
Lopez advised that several spiders had already distinguished
themselves. One spider was even promoted to corporal. As I
inspected the troops, I attempted to use the mind reading chip as I
passed the spiders. I didn’t bother with Private Washington because
his many psycho thoughts depressed me and gave me headaches. As I
read their minds, the spider recruits were all singing inside their
heads. If I didn’t know better, I would swear they were conspiring
to block my mind reading technology. But that would mean the
spiders knew about my chip.

I stopped in front of Corporal Wayne. He was
larger than the other spider recruits. “Lieutenant Lopez and
Sergeant Green say good things about you,” I said. “Keep up the
good work.”

“Thank you,” said Corporal Wayne.

His thoughts were singing too. I could hear,
My country tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I
sing!

“Stop it,” I ordered. “Concentrate on me, not
music.”

“Yes, sir,” said Corporal Wayne.
Screw you
human pestilence,
he thought to himself.

“That will be enough of that,” I said. “Clean
up your mind.”

“Sir?” said Corporal Wayne.
You can sit on
my claw and spin,
he thought. Then he began singing in his
thoughts again.

“Stop singing,” I said. “Do it now!”

Corporal Wayne reached out and snatched my
sunglasses. I could no longer understand his thoughts because the
translation device was in the sunglasses. All I could hear was
hisses and whistles. I tried to grab the sunglasses back, but
Corporal Wayne ate them.

“Are you crazy?” yelled Sergeant Green,
getting in Corporal Wayne’s face. “Why did you eat the captain’s
sunglasses?”

“Sun stroke,” answered Corporal Wayne. “If we
spiders stand in the sun too long, our exoskeleton heats up, and we
get irrational. Sorry.”

“And hungry too?” yelled Sergeant Green.

“Have we met?” I asked, looking closer at the
big black spider. My temper was just barely in check.

“Not likely,” answered Corporal Wayne.

“You will pay for those sunglasses,” I
said.

“I have no money on my card,” said Corporal
Wayne.

“It’s a cultural thing,” explained Lieutenant
Lopez. “Corporal Wayne is one of my better recruits. But being a
spider, his behavior is sometimes odd. They are volatile.”

“His behavior is unacceptable,” I said. “If
Wayne was an Arthropodan marine, he would not be allowed to assault
his commanding officer. It’s not tolerated in the Legion
either.”

“We are still adjusting to having more
spiders in the Legion,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “But sometimes weird
shit like this happens.”

“Private Wayne,” I said, as I tore off his
rank. “You will wash and wax the armored car all day today. I hear
you are already an expert at it. That’s good. You might make a
career out of it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Private Wayne.

“Sergeant Green!” I said. “You and a guard
detail will stay with Private Wayne until I get back what is left
of my sunglasses.”

“Sir?” asked Sergeant Green.

“I want my sunglasses back!” I repeated.

Later Guido told me he could not replace the
translation device in my sunglasses. Guido informed me his contact
in New Memphis had gone out of business and moved. That was okay. I
never liked hearing alien voices no one else could hear, anyway. It
struck me as being the first step toward insanity. I had the chip
surgically removed. I got my sunglasses and translator parts back a
day later. The translator was ruined. It got wet.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Lopez, Sergeant Green, and I were
in the barracks relaxing and watching satellite TV. Channel Five
World News Tonight reporters Brad Jacobs on Mars and Phil Coen were
discussing heightened tensions between the United States Galactic
Federation and the Arthropodan Empire. Democracy had failed again
on Arthropoda, and the spiders were back to their old autocratic
ways. The Emperor was upset about all the riches he missed out on
when the Empire lost its half of New Colorado.

“Phil, is it not old news that the Emperor
wants a share of the riches on New Colorado?” asked Jacobs. “So why
are tensions elevated now?”

“Brad, the Emperor actually denies that it is
all about oil, gold, and uranium,” explained Coen. “The Emperor
says he is only upset because Arthropodan soldiers were not
repatriated in accordance with the peace treaty. He says many
captured soldiers died in custody at the hands of the Legion, and
cites the New Disneyland Massacre as a prime example of United
States Galactic Federation atrocities. The Emperor says many other
soldiers are still fighting because they are rightfully afraid to
surrender.”