The last spider waved thanks before retreating with his buddies behind a ridge line. The blue powder was of the highest quality, clear crystal blue. It was ‘the bomb.’
* * * * *
The spider marines made a lot of money selling their windfall, but were all dead within a week. Even the monitor dragon died of a lethal dose. Hundreds of other spider marines died, too, including the unit’s Military Intelligence officer.
News of the blue powder terrorist attack was broadcast on the Galactic Database, garnering personal attention from both the President and the Arthropodan Emperor. DEA Agent Hanks was appointed to lead a joint human / spider drug task force to investigate the matter.
A Microsoft communications pad found on one of the dead spider marines enabled Agent Hanks to trace a call to legionnaire Jesse Pink. A recording of that call was recovered from NSA computer data storage. General Daly, Agent Hanks, the spider commander, an Arthropodan Intelligentsia officer, and I listened intently to Pink’s recorded message, ‘Yo, spider bitches! Merry Christmas from humanity! Don’t snort it all at once!’
“That babble proves nothing,” I argued reasonably. “Any recording can be faked. It’s circumstantial at best.”
“Not likely,” bristled the spider commander. “I demand your legionnaire be arrested and extradited for torture, trial, and execution.”
“That’s not happening. The Legion will conduct its own investigation into your drug deal gone bad.”
“I doubt Private Pink acted alone,” theorized Agent Hanks. “I know Pink. He’s not the brightest bulb in the garden. He might have been motivated by revenge for an attack on his friend Private Badger, by one of your giant pet lizards.”
“Arrest Pink, or I will,” threatened the spider commander. “The Emperor has expressed a personal interest in this case. This matter will be resolved.”
“Rest assured, Private Pink will be thoroughly interrogated,” promised General Daly. “I have already assigned Major Lopez to investigate. No stone will go unturned.”
“Stones?” asked the spider commander, adjusting his translation device. “What is this talk of rocks?”
“Minerals are my hobby,” offered Agent Hanks for no reason. “Minerals are like rocks and stones, except different.”
“I smell a cover-up!” accused the spider commander. “Neither Lopez nor Czerinski are to be trusted.”
“Are you questioning my credibility?” I asked, my feelings genuinely hurt. “My attorneys will contact your attorneys for slander.”
“Your corruption and malfeasance is public knowledge!”
“That does it! I’m calling Depoli now.”
“See where it gets you.”
“Maybe you and your staff should to be investigated,” I suggested. “I heard your Military Intelligence officer overdosed, along with the other junkies.”
“We’re getting off topic,” interrupted General Daly. “If Private Pink poisoned your drug-addled troops, I vow to get to the bottom of it.”
“You better!”
* * * * *
Agent Hanks went to interview and arrest Private Pink where his company was camped along the DMZ. He walked along rows of tents until finally stopped by Corporal Tu-Sting and several other surly scorpions. They surrounded Agent Hanks, preventing advance or retreat. He drew his pistol.
“A Mexican standoff?” asked Tu-Sting conversationally. “Personally, I think you’re outgunned.”
“Step aside,” ordered Agent Hanks. “I’m on official DEA business.”
“A Legion camp is a rough neighborhood,” cautioned Tu-Sting. “You don’t just stroll through here and expect to live. You should have brought an officer escort.”
“How’s your tail?” sneered Agent Hanks. “Remember what happened the last time you didn’t let fear and common sense hold you back?”
“I will get payback, human. Don’t think I won’t collect.”
“Let’s take this down a notch,” suggested Agent Hanks reasonably. “Which tent belongs to Private Pink?”
“No matter. Pink is exercising his right to remain silent. It’s the law, written somewhere in the Constitution.”
“If you don’t mind, I prefer to hear that directly from Private Pink.”
“But I do mind, Mr. DEA,” replied Tu-Sting. “Go back to your air-conditioned office in New Gobi City while you still can.”
“Pink!” shouted Agent Hanks. “I know you’re here! What are you afraid of? Come out!”
“It’s okay,” answered Private Pink, opening the flap of his tent. “Don’t kill him yet. I’ll talk to the scumbag narc.”
“Let’s discuss your situation inside the tent,” suggested Agent Hanks. “For privacy.”
“Oh, hell no,” refused Pink. “You’re not searching my domicile without a search warrant. Say what you have to say outside, then leave.”
“Look, Pink. I sympathize with your wanting revenge on the spiders for what they did to your bud, Badger, but mass murder is a bit over the top, don’t you think?”
“You done?”
“If you think you’re going to continue manufacturing blue powder, I will personally put you in the ground.”
“I joined the Legion for a new start, just like everyone else. I’ve grown as a human being. This is harassment. You can’t touch me, and you know it. Bounce, bitch!”
“Did you know Colonel Czerinski brought Private Whyte’s family back from Old Earth?” asked Agent Hanks, playing his ace in the hole. “Set them up in a brand new crib in New Gobi City.”
“What?”
“Czerinski disrespected you big-time. You’re the real Hero of the Legion, not Whyte.”
“Good for Whyte. Don’t even try to play me against Whyte.”
“Do yourself a solid. Help me bust Czerinski for trafficking blue powder, and I’ll bring your loved ones back from Old Earth, too.”
“I’m no snitch.”
“Work with me. I can help you.”
“Everyone I love is dead. You had better leave, or you’ll be dead, too, bitch!”
“Wait!” ordered Tu-Sting. “You’re not leaving, Mr. DEA. Did you really think you could waltz in and out of a Legion camp with no consequences? You may have balls for trying it, but I’m going to cut them off.”
Agent Hanks clicked the microphone on his communications pad. A red laser dot appeared on Tu-Sting’s chest. “I think he’s got the whole picture now, Gomie,” spoke Agent Hanks. “DEA Agent Gomez up on the next hill has you sighted in. Go ahead, make my day. Feeling lucky, dirtbag?”
Tu-Sting’s stinger dripped with venom as it puffed up, straining against the duct tape. “Another time, human. This isn’t over.”
* * * * *
I arranged for Legion psychiatrist Captain Priscilla Percy to investigate Private Pink’s mental stability. She helped me years ago, and I turned out just fine. Pink lawyered up, but he had no choice about talking to the shrink. I wanted options explored because there was no way I was going to hand over a legionnaire to the spiders. It would set a bad precedent. Today Pink, tomorrow it could be me.
“Please be at ease, private,” began Captain Percy. “Everything we discuss today will be held strictly confidential. I am here to help you deal with the emotional roller coaster that comes with being a combat-tested Hero of the Legion. Trust me, Jesse. I am on your side.”
“Are you punking me? Yo, I’m fine. I’m not telling you anything.”
“No, you are not fine. You’re a mess!”
“You’re tripping.”
“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder builds among legionnaires experiencing a wide range of emotions during short burst of time. Let me help you achieve a satisfactory happy ending to this stressful chapter in your life. Tell me what’s troubling you.”
“I’m fine, but can I ask you some questions hypothetically?”
“No judgments. Everyone needs someone to talk to. The truth will set you free.”
“The truth will get me locked up.”
“Is killing an alien the same as killing humans?” asked Pink, getting to his emotional side. “Those bugs are sentient, right?”
“So, you did poison those spider marines?” pressed Captain Percy. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Spiders are like lice on the head of the galaxy.”
“So, it’s okay?”
“Sure. Kill as many as you want, as long as you don’t start a war. It’s the tourist season, you know.”
“Spiders talk just like us. They’re smart. Some even serve in the Legion. They love and have families.”
“You didn’t have sex with spiders, did you?”
“No way, but Badger had sex with a scorpion. I was scared, not nearly drunk enough.”
“That’s disgusting. He was no doubt contaminated by that pervert Czerinski’s influence. Wasn’t Badger the same legionnaire you saved from the dragon attack?”
“Yes. Badger is my best friend. I knew him from Albuquerque on Old Earth.”
“It’s Karma. Badger had sex with an alien, and bad things followed.”
“I might do a scorpion, if I was high enough, yo.”
“No! Only a degenerate would go over to that dark side. Do you want to go to Hell?”
“Whatever. I’ve already been told I’m going.”
“Your destiny is not set. You have free will.”
“I killed the hand of God, dissolved it in chemicals, and poured the syrup down a sewer drain,” explained Pink matter-of-factly. “I pretty much know I’m going to Hell for that one.”
“I see. Yes, you’re probably right. You are toast, you sacrilegious blasphemer.”
“Damn straight I’m right. When God finds out He’s going to be pissed. I’m good with it. People should pay for their sins.”
“Maybe God won’t find out.”
“The Grim Reaper will snitch me off when he gets out of rehab. I know it. That punk wouldn’t last a day in prison, yo.”
“Do you take prescription medication?”
“I self-medicate,” answered Pink uncomfortably. “Are you wearing a wire?”
“Blue powder?”
“No, I never touch the hard stuff. I just do gateway drugs.”
“Are you sure?”
“Take off your clothes, yo, to prove you aren’t wearing a wire.”
“This interview is over, you perv. I’m recommending you be discharged from the Legion for being a low-life mutant scum not fit to breathe the same air as civilized citizens of the galaxy. I hope you rot in Hell, you degenerate spawn of Satan.”
“Yo, that’s harsh. Are you wearing a wire?”
Chapter 16
“Now that the human pestilence have left, you are relieved of command,” informed the Intelligentsia officer, handing the spider commander written orders. “You are reassigned to moon shuttle transport. You have one week to take care of your affairs.”
“What?” asked the spider commander. “Why? I’m not finished here. Someone has to keep Czerinski from running amuck.”
“Need I state the obvious? You led marines to a humiliating defeat by scorpions behind enemy lines. But somehow you survived? Then your XO and over three hundred marines overdose from blue powder. You destroyed evidence by bombing the human pestilence lab without permission. The Emperor himself ordered you replaced. It’s about time.”
“We should have put a hot-shot in blue powder long ago,” fumed the spider commander. “Culling drug addicts only makes the Empire stronger.”
“You’re lucky you are not under arrest now.”
“I will not tolerate this attack on my career. Transport to the moon? What is that?”
“It’s only temporary, until you go to trial. Executing drug dealers is one thing. Allowing your marines to be poisoned is incompetence of the highest level.”
In a fit of anger, the spider commander reached for his pistol. The Intelligentsia officers quickly drew their weapons, too, expecting as much. Pride. It’s the downfall of many.
“Do not make this any more unpleasant than it has to be. Go to your quarters, pack your gear, and get out. I’m running the DMZ now. If you ever even think about drawing a weapon on me again, I’ll gun you down, regardless of your shirttail relation to the Emperor. Understand?”
The spider commander calmed, removing his claw from his pistol. “This is not over.”
* * * * *
Skyler Whyte settled in quickly, shopping for baby clothes at the New Gobi City DMZ Walmart. Although warned not to cross the red border line painted across the middle of the store until she obtained her passport, Skyler forgot, straying into Sporting Goods and the Arthropodan Empire. She was immediately stopped by a spider security guard. “Show me identification, human pestilence.”
“Pardon me?” asked Skyler. “Don’t use that tone with me.”
“All human pestilence are required to show ID,” insisted the spider security guard. “Fail to do so at your peril.”
“I’ll have you know my husband is a legionnaire. Who do you spiders think you are, accosting me?”
“You spiders?” asked the spider security guard, taking her by the elbow. “Come with me.”
“Help! He’s is attacking me! I’m pregnant! Molester! I’m being abducted by aliens!”
The spider security guard wove web restraints over Skyler. She dropped to the floor, refusing to walk. She seemed to hyperventilate, taking quick breaths as if going into labor. As she was dragged past the Hardware Department, Skyler began yelling for help, again. The spider security guard procured a roll of duct tape to silence the insane ear-piercing human pestilence female. Ha! Another use for duct tape.
* * * * *
Because Skyler had mentioned a Legion connection, she was taken to the Arthropodan Marine Headquarters in North New Gobi City. The spider commander was still cleaning out his office when Skyler was dragged in, kicking and screaming. He removed the duct tape from her mouth.
“How dare you lay claws on me! Don’t you know I’m pregnant? My water has broken. I’m going to give birth on your floor just to spite you all. When the Legion finds out, they will bomb you to rubble!”
The spider commander put the duct tape securely back across Skyler’s mouth. “Does she ever shut up?”
“Apparently not,” answered the spider security guard. “Careful, she tried to bite me on the way over from Walmart.”
“Does her human pestilence husband not properly beat her?” wondered the spider commander rhetorically. “What is her charge?”
“Being an uncontrollable female out of season.”
“It’s just a misdemeanor,” commented the spider commander, removing the duct tape again. “How do you plead?”
“Not guilty! Let me go, you cretin. I have Constitutional rights!
“Not here in the Empire. I find you guilty as charged, and sentence you to six months hard labor on the moon.”
“That’s outrageous.”
“The work will do you good, help you lose some of that weight.”
“Are you saying I’m fat?”
“A bit toward your pear-shaped bottom.”
“Alien bastard!”
“It just so happens I’m leaving for the moon today on a new assignment. I’ll escort you myself, Mrs. Whyte.”
“How did you know my name?”
“Major Lopez of the Legion told me all about your husband and his posse, Pink, Badger, and Skinny Pete,” explained the spider commander, securing the duct tape again. “We’re all going to do business on the moon.”
* * * * *
When Private Whyte returned from leave, he was immediately confronted by Pink. “How do you rate a trip to Old Earth, and I get nothing?” asked Pink, upset. “Not even a ‘thank you’ for saving the world from that boney demon with the razor.”
“Colonel Czerinski is our guardian angel,” explained Whyte. “He owes us. Keep that favor in your hip pocket until you really need it.”
“I really
need Czerinski to get rid of DEA Agent Hanks. Think he’ll whack him for me?”
“Maybe. I’ve heard stories. They call him the Butcher of New Colorado.”
“What’s that all about? Who did he butcher?”
“Don’t know. Czerinski gets a lot of bad press. Media bias.”
Whyte’s communications pad rang. “Hello?” answered Whyte. “Who is this? Can you hear me now?”
“I kidnapped your human pestilence wife,” replied the spider commander. “Now, you will cook for me.”
“Did you take my son, too?”
“No, just Skyler.”
“Good, keep the bitch.”
“What about your unborn hatchling daughter?” asked the spider commander triumphantly. “Meet me at the burned-out Diablo Brewery at midnight. Bring Private Pink. I hear you’re a team.”
“Fine,” relented Whyte. “But I expect to be paid. I don’t work for free.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Hang up.”
“You hang up first.”
“I hope you run out of minutes.”
* * * * *
“Dude, that was harsh,” commented Pink. “You didn’t really mean that about keeping Mrs. Whyte, did you?”
“No, of course not,” answered Whyte contritely. “I was just negotiating. You have to be tough when haggling with aliens. It’s like going to Mexico.”
“Yo, I don’t want to go to the moon,” argued Pink. “There’s like, no air on the moon. All I want is a new life.”
“Like he said, we’re a team, Jesse. We are going to cook blue powder for the whole galaxy.”
“Don’t be greedy. One big score of phat stacks, and we’re done.”
“We’re done when I say we’re done,” admonished Whyte, tipping his cap. “We’re just beginning.”
* * * * *
Whyte and Pink agreed to meet at the edge of camp. Pink was to steal a Legion jeep for the drive to Diablo, but Tu-Sting arrived in his place.
America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 21: Breaking Very Bad Page 8