Authors: Walter Knight
* * * * *
At company formation the next morning, Master Sergeant Green reviewed the troops. Sergeant Green was not happy, with even more of an edge in his voice than usual. “Privates Wayne and Krueger, front and center!” he ordered.
Wayne and Krueger hustled to the front of the formation, standing at attention. Wayne said nothing. He knew.
“Excuse me, Master Sergeant Green, but I’m a corporal,” advised Krueger.
“Shut up, you little piss-ant fool!” yelled Sergeant Green as he tore off Krueger’s stripes. “Both of you screw-ups are assigned permanently to KP punishment detail. I hope your little party last night was worth it!”
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Chapter 5
During my office clean-up, I found an alien listening device. Scans located several more. After reviewing the video, I returned to the Flaming Mantidae, searching for the two female spider spies. It was early, and the tavern was starting to fill up. The spider bartender slid me my usual drink.
“Want to buy a toaster?” I asked, hoping to trade a toaster for free drinks.
“I already own one of your worthless human pestilence bread burners,” groused the spider bartender. “My wife loves it. I hate toast. Toast is too dry. True males should eat meat, the bloodier the better.”
“Try putting jam on your toast,” I suggested. “I foresee the day when every modern household on Arthropoda has a General Electric toaster in its kitchen.”
“I feel like we are being invaded by you human pestilence.” “How’s the action tonight?” I asked, changing the subject. “Any hot babes?” “None you could handle.” “I heard about a pair of platinum-yellow-shelled twins. The rumor is, they’re real wild things.” “I would not know,” replied the bartender, stiffening. He obviously did not approve of inter-species dating. “Those two hustle pool on the weekends. Mess with them, and they will eat you for not measuring up.”
As if on cue, the platinum twins arrived, immediately claiming a pool table. I grabbed a stick and sauntered over for a game. “Dollar a ball?” I asked.
“Don’t waste my time or your money,” replied one of the twins. “You human pestilence cannot play pool. You fidget too much to adequately steady your cue.”
“I’ll try to muddle along. Pool was invented by us humans. There is no way you can beat me. How about a hundred dollars a ball?” “Rack ’em!” commanded the other twin. “Your balls will be mine!” “What?” “I will even let you go first, human pestilence.” State-of-the-art micro chips embedded in my bones greatly enhanced my hand-to-eye coordination and reflexes, among other things. However, spiders with their eight eyes and limbs, had a distinct advantage in eye-claw coordination. Spiders were natural pool players. They were also born compulsive gamblers.
I lost money the first two games. My lovely twin adversary pranced about, celebrating her victories over the human pestilence, playing to the crowd. “Next!” she boasted, challenging all comers.
“How about we up the stakes?” I suggested. “How about a thousand dollars a ball?” “I cannot cover that bet,” advised my opponent. “I doubt you can either. I thought all you wanted was a friendly game.” I flashed my cash. “If you lose, we’ll figure out a trade.” The lovely twins made eye contact only briefly, then nodded. “Rack ’em, human pestilence. This should be easy money!” The twins did a little cha-cha dance for the crowd.
This time I played better. Humans not only invented pool, we also invented the hustle, and it was time to school these lovely aliens. The twins watched dejectedly as I ran the table and racked the balls for a new game.
“My place or yours?” I asked, after several games.
“You work at the Embassy?” asked one of the twins. I lost track of which one was which. “Do you know Corporals Willie Krueger and John Iwo Jima Wayne?”
“Willie and John are my best friends!” I exclaimed as we left, hand in claw.
* * * * *
Corporal Tonelli saluted and waved our cab through the Embassy gate. Sergeant Green and a squad of legionnaires were waiting as we stopped at the Administration Building. Placed under arrest, the twins were dragged, kicking and screaming, downstairs to the dungeon.
Interrogation began immediately. I separated the twins, hoping they would be more pliable without each other’s support.
* * * * *
“We have been abducted by humans!” broadcast the twin left alone in her cell. She activated a distress beacon embedded in the backside of her exoskeleton. The hidden transmitter had been secreted up an orifice probes could not find.
Soon Arthropodan marine commandos smashed through the dungeon floor from tunnels already dug for just such a rescue purpose, freeing their comrade. “You are very lucky,” advised a spider marine team leader. “The human pestilence usually eat their prisoners, after torturing them over burning coals.”
“What about my sister?” asked the yellow spider. “She is still upstairs. That Czerinski took her away.”
“We cannot stay,” insisted the team leader. “The Legion may return any minute. Also, ghosts haunt the human pestilence underground. Humanity brought its spirits of the dead with them from Old Earth to guard this dungeon.”
“Nonsense!” replied the twin. “I order you to rescue my sister!”
“We have video documentation of a robed skeletal humanoid spirit carrying a scythe inhabiting the underground. It has even broken into our sewers. If not a ghost, what then?”
The twin hesitated, having seen the top secret video, too. She doubted this sergeant had actually viewed anything of the sort. “Rumors spread by cowards like you!” she accused. “You whine and frighten like a hatchling.” The twin followed the marines back to their tunnels. “You have not heard the last of this. Cowards, all of you!”
* * * * *
I hung the yellow spider from a hook on the ceiling of the interrogation cell, watching in fascination as she swung back and forth, scratching and clawing at the hook, struggling to free herself.
“Resistance is futile!” I announced in my deepest authoritative voice. I poked her with a stick, causing the spider to swivel round and round. “What was your mission?”
“To become as drunk and disorderly as possible?” cried the blond spider. “Why are you being so mean?” “You bugged my office. What did you hope to accomplish by that? What information did you seek?” “Oh, lots of secrets, I suppose. You are a real party-pooper, Czerinski.” “Tell me the specifics of your mission, or I will cut off your spider legs and arms, and let you nub around on the floor like a slug,” I threatened, holding up a pair of hedge clippers. “I mean it!”
“You would not dare,” she replied, pouting. “What’s a slug?” “She’s just a dumb blond,” offered Sergeant Green. “This is going nowhere.” “I heard that! I am smarter than I look!” “Prove it by telling me all you know about the Intelligentsia’s operation to penetrate this embassy,” I demanded, clipping the air with my hedge trimmers. “Talk!”
“Okay, I will talk!” cried the yellow spider as I nipped off the tip of an antenna. “Ouch! I will tell you everything! We have a sewer intercept that captures your flushings. The Intelligentsia has been analyzing your shit for years. They found out your shit is flaky!”
“Those bastards!” commented Sergeant Green, pacing back and forth. “What else?” I pressed. “When Santa Claus tries to land on your roof this Christmas, there are plans to shoot him down, along with his vermin reindeer.” “I thought so,” added Sergeant Green. “This is insane. The Intelligentsia is trying to start a war with their constant provocations.”
“Not good enough,” I announced, tapping on her exoskeleton with the clippers. “We already knew about your plot to kill Mr. Claus. Have you viewed American Satellite TV infomercials demonstrating how these clippers perfectly slice and dice even the toughest vegetables?”
“Wait!” cried the spider spy, finally sobering. “The Emperor himself ordered the Intelligentsia find out about your paranormal warfare program.”
“Ghosts?” I asked. “There is no such thing.” “We have orders to capture your Grim Reaper.” “What do you know of the Grim Reaper?” asked Sergeant Green, grabbing the spider spy by the neck and shaking. “I know you human pestilence brought evil personified with you across the stars,” replied the spy. “Thanatos was on New Colorado, and now he is here, lurking in the underground.”
Worried, I turned to Sergeant Green. “Get that other spider up here now. This is going to take some sorting out.”
I cut the yellow spider down and removed her shackles. We were alone in the room now. “See? I can be reasonable, if you cooperate. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I am famished!” she blurted out, obviously relieved that she would not die on the hook. I poured a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. “I’m sorry, but all we have down here is air raid shelter supplies.” “Oh, look!” exclaimed the yellow spider, seeming eager to please. “Donut seeds. I love donut seeds!” “The prisoner has escaped!” interrupted Sergeant Green over the intercom. “She broke out through a spider tunnel.”
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Chapter 6
Welcome to Walmart, Colonel Czerinski,” said the ATM, cheerfully. “Are you a Sam’s Club member? We are giving free toasters to anyone who applies for a membership card.”
“A Legion ATM moonlighting as a Walmart greeter?” I scoffed. “Has Legion recruitment sunk this low?” “This Walmart gig is just a cover for my real purpose,” explained the ATM. “The CIA has me spying on the spiders.” “At Walmart?” “You would be surprised what all goes on here. Why are you here? Nothing goes on sale until after Thanksgiving.” “Legion business,” I replied curtly. “Do you think you can keep your recruitment quotas up and spy for the CIA at the same time?” “Multi-tasking is my forte. Speaking of keeping quotas up, I am issuing you a platinum Sam’s Club card, usually only available to select customers. This card will get you a ten-percent discount on certain high-end purchases. You will be helping me with my cover.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said, pocketing the card and pushing my cart down the nearest isle. “Good luck being a spook.”
Shopping went quickly. I knew exactly what I wanted. I soon stood in line at the cashier. My cart was full, containing a new office desk mat, several potted plants, and a deluxe model nuclear powered reactor, guaranteed to produce uninterrupted electrical power or my money back. I handed the spider cashier my VISA card.
“There was no price tag on that reactor,” I commented. “Maybe it fell off? It’s supposed to be on sale.” “Do you have a newspaper clipping?” asked the spider cashier. “Did you not cut out a coupon?” “I don’t have a coupon,” I replied, looking about for a discarded newspaper. “Do you have a coupon I can use?” “No!” snapped the spider cashier. “Full price for you, human pestilence. Including sales tax, that will be 148,326.4 credits.” “But I am a platinum Sam’s Club member,” I boasted, triumphantly handing my card. “That’s good for a ten percent discount.” “Your card has yet to be activated. Full price for you, dog.” “What? This place is a rip-off!” “If you don’t like it, shop at Costco. Have a nice day.” “Fine!” I fumed, paying the bill and clutching my nuclear reactor under one arm, pushing my cart out the door with the other. “See if I ever shop here again!”
“Excuse me, human pestilence, sir. Got any spare change?” asked a spider bum in the parking lot. “I lost my job and wallet in the flood, and now I am homeless.”
“Flood? Arthropoda is a desert planet. Get lost, spider!”
“Hey, I know you!” accused the spider bum. “You are the human pestilence that got me evicted from my dipsty dumpster years ago when I complained about you trying to hide a nuke in my home! The Intelligentsia did not believe me!”
“That was Lopez, not me.” “Whatever. All you human pestilence look alike! Can you spare some change, or not?” “No!”
* * * * *
My cab was gone, so I decided to go native and take the bus.
“One credit for a seat, or a half credit to ride on top,” advised an amicable spider bus driver, just finishing his lunch. “No eating inside.”
I glanced up top. No one was riding on the roof, but there were no hand rails, so I forked over one credit. I sat comfortably between two spider passengers. I stuffed my nuclear generator under the seat. Being the only human riding, I stared straight ahead, not wanting to make eye contact.
At the next stop, the bus filled up. A few more spiders climbed up onto the roof. Halfway to the Embassy, the bus lurched to a stop, and the doors burst open.
Finally some relief!
Instead of spiders departing, more passengers rushed in, clawing and elbowing their way over the top of those already seated. Spiders stacked themselves to the ceiling. Their breath was stifling, and the body odor rose to an intolerable level. Several younger spiders started mating. It was too much!
“Help!” I shouted. “I can’t breathe! I’m dying back here!”
“Shut up, human pestilence!” replied the bus driver. “You smell bad enough without being a complainer too!”
At the next stop, even more spiders boarded, squeezing in to the ceiling. As the bus started, a fight broke out at the door, leaving several spiders barely hanging onto open windows from the outside.
Pressed from all sides, I farted long and loud. The bus cleared, leaving me alone for the rest of the trip to the Embassy.