I asked #96 if he wanted to buy my ruby. I told him I wanted some money of my own so I could buy things. I said I might be here for a while, so it was only fair I should be able to make myself comfortable. I asked #96 if he thought my ruby might be worth anything on his home world.
#96 examined the ruby with great interest. “Not really. It’s practically worthless. We have so many rubies. I could maybe give you 300 credits, but I feel you would be cheating me. I would only give you that much because you are a friend and I enjoy your company and your donuts,” said #96.
“I’ll sell it to you for 1,000 credits,” I replied. “I need some gambling money too.”
“You would just lose it to me, you gamble so poorly,” said #96.
“That’s not your problem, it’s mine,” I replied.
“1,000 credits? No way. I won’t even discuss it with you.” #96 tossed the ruby back at me as if it was so much trash. He then gave me the silent treatment.
“How about 700 credits?” I asked some time later.
“You have a deal,” said #96, laying down 700 credits and snatching my ruby.
“Want to play some craps?” I asked.
* * * * *
#96 couldn’t believe his good fortune. Not only had this dumb human just sold him a ruby worth 5,000 credits for only 700 credits, but now the human wanted to lose that 700 credits back to him.
Some time later, the human lost 100 credits playing craps before getting mad and quitting. When #96 got relieved, he told the story to #97 of the Detention Guard. They both had a good laugh about the hapless human pestilence.
* * * * *
Now #97 was guarding me. Like #96 before, #97 had nothing to say. After a few hours I started playing with my dice. I looked up at #97 watching me and said, “I’d invite you to a game of chance, but #96 said not to ask you because you are a snitch and a candy-ass religious puritan, and he didn’t want me to get into trouble. #96 also said you were a lousy gambler and it wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of you. So, I’m not going to ask you to gamble for real money. You want to throw dice or play cards for fun? How about for match heads?” I asked.
“I think that #96 just wants to take all your money for himself,” said #97 gruffly. “That greedy bastard.”
“I never thought of that,” I said. “So, I have 600 credits that says you can’t beat me.”
“You’re on,” said #97 greedily.
Like #96, I taught #97 how to play poker, blackjack, and craps. We played for two days straight. It went up and down, but I took 7,000 credits from him.
“I feel really bad about taking all your money #97,” I said, finally. We were both exhausted.
“You lie,” #97 replied. “I think you and #96 conspired to trick me somehow.”
“No, that is not true,” I said. “In fact, I consider you to be my friend.”
“You lie so poorly,” he repeated.
“I do feel bad about taking your 7,000 credits. And to prove my remorse, I will give you back 5,000 credits. All you have to do is one little favor.”
“What favor?” #97 asked, now suspicious.
“There are negotiations going on with the United States Galactic Federation in regards to the truce. Right?”
“Yes, that is common knowledge. So what?” asked #97.
I handed #97 a sealed letter. “Give this letter to one of the human negotiators.”
“I will not commit treason,” said #97.
“You won’t be committing treason. You can read the letter if you want. Have it translated. It’s just a request for the negotiators to press for human doctors to be allowed to sew my hand back on to my wrist. You know humans can’t grow back our limbs?” I asked.
“I have heard that,” answered #97. “But it’s against the rules.”
“Gambling with a prisoner is against the rules too, but everyone does it. It’s just a small matter. You know, I think #15 wouldn’t be too happy if he found out you had been gambling with me. But I wouldn’t tell because I am not a snitch and because you are my friend. I hate officers too. Besides, you know #15 won’t allow my letter to go out simply because he is an asshole. Everyone knows that. Even #96 says so, right?” I asked. “What kind of officer would let someone’s hand be cut off and not sewed back on?”
“Well yes, he is an asshole. It’s true. Everyone knows that. I guess there would be no harm if I slipped the letter to a cousin who can slip it to one of the human negotiators. You better believe I will have the letter translated and checked for code before I do,” said #97.
“I have no problem with that,” I responded as I gave #97 5,000 credits. “Just don’t let #15 know about the letter.”
When #97 left, he was relieved by #96. The spider guard was anxious to resume gambling, but I went to sleep for eight hours. When I woke, I ate a hearty breakfast of powdered eggs and spam, and used the toilet facilities. Finally we started gambling. I took all his money, about 10,000 credits. I even got my ruby back. After I cleaned out #96, he just kind of slumped listless against the wall.
“Cheer up,” I said. “Because you are my friend I’ll give most of your credits back. Okay?”
“Really?’ said #96, brightening.
“Sure. I’ll give you 7,000 credits back if you buy me a music radio, a TV, and a refrigerator. And if there are any credits left over you can keep the change as a fee for a good deed done,” I suggested.
After doing some quick calculations, #96 apparently decided he’d make out like a bandit if he acquired the items used. “I agree,” he said.
In the next few weeks, I cleaned out several more spider guards and acquired all sorts of good stuff, including a new bed, lots of good food, including steaks, computer access, reading materials, the works. Finally #97 rotated back for guard duty. He stopped gambling. He acted moody, like a stick in the mud most of the time.
“Good morning, #97,” I said.
“Whatever,” he responded.
“I want you to bring me a radio,” I stated.
#97 looked over at my music radio playing some weird spider tune and asked, “What’s wrong with the radio you’ve got? It seems to be playing just fine.”
“I want you to bring me a radio I can use talk to the Seventh Fleet,” I clarified.
“You’re requesting to buy a broadcast radio?” asked #97 incredulously. “Don’t you understand that is impossible? It would violate security!”
“It is you who does not understand. I’m not asking you to get me a radio. I am telling you to get a radio! Get me a long-range narrow beam directional broadcast radio now!” I said.
“Impossible. You are being impossible,” he stuttered.
“You delivered a letter for me to Seventh Fleet. What do you think #15’s reaction to that would be if he found out you delivered that letter? Even better, what would #14’s reaction be? A firing squad, maybe? Compared to that, what is one little radio? Besides, I won’t snitch on you. I’m not a snitch. I am your friend.”
“Please, don’t tell #15. Can’t we work this out?” #97 pleaded. “I just can’t give you a radio. What if it is found?”
“If the radio is found, I’ll just say #96 gave it to me. He’s a prick, anyway. Right? He says you’re an idiot. He hates you. Look, I’m your friend. But to show I’m not heartless, I’ll give you 10,000 credits for your risk. But you will get me that broadcast radio. You have no choice. Your life is on the line. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes. I’ll get your broadcast radio.”
“That’s more like it,” I said. “Now get out of here. From now on you can watch me from the other side of the door. I need my privacy. It’s a human thing.”
A few days later, #97 confessed all of his sins to #15. I did not get the long range broadcast radio I wanted. What I got was a new room (cell) that had no bed, no blankets, no table, no amenities, and no toilet. All the room had was a hole in the cement floor that flushed once in a while when the guards had a mind to flick the flush switch. There was no
toilet paper, no sink, no shower, and no lighting other than what came through a small window in the door. I think I pissed someone off. I heard that nothing happened to #97 other than a good ass-chewing and some remedial training. However, all the guards were replaced. The new guards rarely talked to me. They fed me yummy goo food in a tube. After about a month, I made a noose out of my shirt and pretended to try to hang myself. That got their attention. They took all my clothes from me. Not my best move, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought about throwing feces through the door window, but thought that might be considered an assault and a violation of my agreement. So, I just sat and waited. Finally a new spider visited me, an elderly, scholarly looking spider wearing eye glasses and lugging a brief case. He set up a table at my opened door, set some papers out on the table, and asked me how I was doing.
“I’m not good,” I answered. “You look like a lawyer.”
“Correct, but not just any lawyer. I am your lawyer. Introductions are in order. I am your defense attorney, and Officer of the Court #2,” he added.
“So now they’ve gotten around to providing me a free public defender?” I asked. “It’s about time. Can you get me some clothes? It gets cold in here at night.”
“Free? Absolutely not, Lieutenant Czerinski. Nothing is free. Especially here. Appointed? Most certainly. I tried to get out of this appointment, but it was my turn. The mere sight of you makes my shell shiver,” said #2. “The war crimes you are accused of and undoubtedly are guilty of make you a creature without any possibility of redemption.”
“I’m not feeling the love here,” I responded. “So, if your services aren’t free, who is picking up the tab?”
“The ruby I found in your property made a nice retainer. The substantial credits you acquired gambling with your guards will pay for most of my services at the criminal trial. I will work on a percentage basis when it comes to the civil part of the trial. I expect we will easily win our lawsuit for excessive use of force against a prisoner. Of course you probably won’t live to spend any court awarded credits when you are sentenced to death on charges of murder, genocide, terrorism, abuse of prisoners, custodial assault, looting, crimes against decency and civilization – eating the families of Habitat #40 – theft, and custodial gambling. The upside is, I will still be able to recoup substantial fees for services, time, and percentage,” said #2 gleefully.
“I want another attorney, preferably a human attorney.”
“Sorry, you are stuck with me. Humans aren’t allowed to go where we are going. The sooner you get used to that fact, the sooner we can work together on your defense,” said #2. “Through the court-mandated discovery process, I have reviewed all of the computer downloads, messages, and data on your identification card. I also reviewed all helmet camera and audio recordings that the prosecution will be using against you. The evidence seems overwhelming. I suggest an insanity defense. Your attempted suicide seems to support a diagnosis of mental instability, although video camera recordings indicate you still know the difference between right and wrong. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I plead ignorance. This is all just a big misunderstanding. I couldn’t tell the difference between military and civilian spiders, young and old spiders, and fighting and surrendering spiders because of the differences in our species’ appearances, language, and culture. And I am not crazy,” I insisted. “I just pretended to attempt suicide to get someone’s attention. I need my clothes back or I will go crazy.”
“You are making a presentable defense most difficult. How can I support an insanity defense if you say you were faking your suicide attempt?” #2 asked. “And I’m sorry, but murder, genocide, and refusing to take prisoners cannot be explained away because of cultural differences.”
“That is my argument,” I insisted.
“In that case, you will be transported to our home world’s capital, tried for war crimes, and most certainly executed,” warned #2.
CHAPTER 12
Year 2215. Military base #49, near Capital City #1 of the Arthropoda Empire.
Approximate computer translation of Transcript of the Public Trial of Lieutenant Joey R. Czerinski, of The United States Galactic Federation Foreign Legion, on charges of: Murder, Genocide, Terrorism, Prisoner Abuse, Custodial Assault, Criminal Conspiracy, Looting, Crimes Against Civilization and Decency (Eating the Families of Habitat #40), Theft, Custodial Gambling, and Extortion.
Direct examination by Prosecutor Officer #1, of Intelligentsia & State Security Officer #14:
#1: Do you recognize the defendant, Lieutenant Joey. R. Czerinski, also known as The Butcher of Planet #6, which the human pestilence calls New Colorado?
#2: Objection Your Excellency, the prosecution is being inflammatory before even presenting any evidence.
JUDGE: Sustained. The prosecution will refrain from referring to the human pestilence as The Butcher of New Colorado.
#2: Your Excellency, I also object to my client, Lieutenant Czerinski, being naked. Lieutenant Czerinski says being naked makes him extremely uncomfortable, and I believe it interferes with his ability to aid me in presenting an adequate defense.
#1: Lieutenant Czerinski fashioned his shirt into a noose and attempted suicide. His clothes were taken to prevent future suicide attempts. The defendant may still be suffering from mental illness.
#2: Lieutenant Czerinski says he was faking the suicide attempt in order to gain attention to his stark living conditions – no bed or bedding, no toilet, no sink, no shower ... the list goes on and on.
JUDGE: If we error, it is better to error on the side of safety. I will not tell custodial staff how to do their job. In light of his prior suicide attempt, the defendant will not be given back his clothes.
#2: Your Excellency, there are also the potential political ramifications of depriving Lieutenant Czerinski clothing. This trial is being broadcast live not only to our public, but also to the human public. If human taboos concerning nudity enrage the humans’ sensibilities, it might interfere with ongoing truce negotiations. Do we want to risk a longer war?
JUDGE: It was the military’s decision to broadcast this trial. They can choose at any time to pull the plug on transmitting. It is not for the court to tell the military what the political consequences of their transmissions may be. Motion denied, again. Witness, answer the question.
#14: I first met Lieutenant Czerinski when he and the other human pestilence in his platoon were captured and brought to the detention center on Planet #6. I searched and interviewed them.
#1: With what results?
#14: In their backpacks I found the partially eaten legs and arms of juveniles. DNA testing linked these body parts to missing juveniles, families, babies, and soldiers from habitat #40. That habitat had been destroyed by two nuclear explosions the day before. A search of the human pestilence also found 329 identification crystals from the residents of Habitat #40, three identification crystals from tunnel guard soldiers, and one crystal from a shock troop commando.
#1: And you asked Lieutenant Czerinski to explain himself?
#14: Yes. I asked Lieutenant Czerinski how he was able to accumulate over 300 identification crystals without taking even one prisoner, not even civilian families, juveniles, or babies. Lieutenant was evasive and tried to divert our discussion to the welfare of the human pestilence under his command. Our discussion was cut short when I stepped too close to his cage and he reached out striking at my throat. At the same time another human pestilence stabbed me from behind. When I fell to the ground, Lieutenant Czerinski struck at me again through the bars, but I rolled away just in time. I almost died. Lieutenant Czerinski stated that he would kill me if it was the last thing he did.
#1: What did the other human pestilence have to say when confronted with partially eaten baby limbs found in their backpacks?
#14: The second in command, Sergeant Lopez, admitted that they had all gorged themselves on the families of Habitat #40. Sergeant Lopez apologized for
this atrocity.
#1: Do you believe Sergeant Lopez was sincere in his apology?
#14: No. It was Sergeant Lopez who stabbed me in the back. He then threatened to exterminate our entire species.
#1: And you have all this recorded on tape for our review?
#14: Yes. Their vicious nature is quite startling.
#1: Any other interviews?
#14: The third in command, Corporal Green, stated that baby spiders tasted light, but were not filling, and that he wanted more. Only next time, he wanted tartar sauce. He thought the whole matter was funny. Corporal Green, who I think is mentally unstable, then went into a tirade accusing me of having sex with my mother and with goats. He is quite odd. Of the seventeen other humans I interviewed, sixteen admitted to eating the families of Habitat #40. One human, Private Williams, said he refused to eat the dead and argued with Lieutenant Czerinski about the matter. This is backed up by subsequent analysis of their helmet video camera recordings.
#1: What else did you find from captured computer and video camera data?
#14: I found a pattern of intent to exterminate our species and not take prisoners that ran from the highest levels of their command to the lowest private. I found electronic communications that ordered Lieutenant Czerinski to not take prisoners. This was before Czerinski even landed on the planet. Upon landing, Lieutenant Czerinski killed a sentry of an elite commando unit. They toyed with #100’s decapitated head as #100 begged for mercy. Viewing the helmet video camera recording is quite disturbing. Sergeant Lopez, again using his knife, stabbed #100 through an eye socket. Lieutenant Czerinski and his platoon then went on a rampage, indiscriminately throwing nuclear bombs down habitat entrances. Research shows the Legion itself has a brutal history. They are a bunch of expendable criminals and misfits that are used as cannon fodder and to do the dirty work of the United States Galactic Federation’s many wars. They are butchers.
America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 1: Feeling Lucky Page 8