“Send Major Lopez,” I suggested. “Lopez has just as much experience as I do. We joined the legion together as privates. Lopez and his CIA buddies can run a spy ring out of our new embassy just fine.”
“That is a good idea,” agreed General Daly. “I knew you were the right choice. I’ll send Lopez and those CIA idiots, too.”
“What I meant was that Major Lopez could be the ambassador,” I explained. “He has loads of administrative and negotiation experience.”
“Believe it or not, I trust you more than Lopez,” said General Daly. “Lopez is a sneaky bastard, if there ever was one.”
“Shouldn’t a civilian be the ambassador?” I asked. “I am a legionnaire. I might break something and start another war. What about my reputation as the Butcher of New Colorado? That won’t bode well during negotiations.”
“That’s just bad press,” said General Daly. “You said so yourself. Someone should kick those mealy-mouthed reporters in the ass, the way they talk about you.”
“Gee General, I never knew you cared. Or maybe you are just trying to get rid of me.”
“Nonsense,” said General Daly. “This mission is crucial and has military significance. I need you to forge an alliance with the Scorpion Kingdom before the spiders beat us to the punch.”
“You want to play the scorpions against the spiders?” I asked.
“We need a working relationship with the scorpions to balance the power of the Arthropodan Empire,” insisted General Daly. “I want a treaty. Call it cold-war politics. The very worst scenario would be for the spiders and scorpions to ally against us.”
“That would never happen,” I said. “The spiders hate all scorpions.”
“For now they may hate each other,” explained General Daly. “But in case you have not noticed, humanity is alone in a galaxy full of sentient exoskeleton species. One day their empires may unite against us.”
“It won’t happen in our lifetime,” I commented.
“These totalitarian bug regimes cannot be trusted to do the right thing,” said General Daly. “Until democracy is the norm, USGF policy will be to manipulate shifting alliances and maintain humanity’s best interests across the galaxy.”
“I still say a professional diplomatic corps should be handling this,” I said. “They have more experience working out deals and treaties.”
“That’s another great idea!” said General Daly. “I’ll send some State Department geeks along, too. Do you know James Yamashita? I’m sending him to assist with negotiations.”
“I know Yamashita,” I said. ““He’s the Director of Tourism. How’s he going to help? Bring in tour busses to see the friendly scorpions?”
“That’s another good idea,” said General Daly. “You’re full of good ideas today. Worse things could happen.”
Yes, sir,” I said. “You’re full of it, too. What if the negotiations break down and the scorpions send my head back as a message? The Shenandoah just nuked a huge scorpion spaceport and factory. The scorpions can’t be happy with us.”
“Don’t worry,” said General Daly. “For now, the scorpions are afraid. Trust me on that, we want to keep it that way.”
* * * * *
The King granted permission for the USGF Embassy to be built in their capital, next to the Royal Palace. Construction began immediately.
“The human ambassador is Colonel Czerinski,” advised the scorpion captain. “Their database states Czerinski is a killer responsible for the massacre of thousands upon thousands of spiders and scorpions. His latest atrocity was the first use of deadly pesticide against our soldiers trapped in tunnels on Asteroid XYP.”
“They send him to negotiate a peace treaty?” asked the Scorpion King. “Why?”
“Perhaps they wish to intimidate us,” advised the general. “They will not succeed. The database also says Colonel Czerinski is a pervert and a drunk. We can exploit his weaknesses to our advantage.”
“Research indicates Czerinski dismisses those accusations as just bad press,” added the captain. “But the evidence is overwhelming. There are even rumors of critical psychological reports recommending Czerinski be removed from command.”
“All that means is that he has enemies,” said the Scorpion King.
“And strong political friends,” added the general.
“We will listen to what Czerinski and humanity has to offer,” ordered the Scorpion King. “Then I will decide whether or not he is put on the menu.”
Chapter 12
My entire Legion battalion and auxiliary entourage was promptly shipped off to the scorpion home world. Upon my arrival at the scorpion Royal Palace, I was immediately introduced to the King. We shook hand to claw. The King seemed awkward about being touched. I am sure I violated royal protocol, but Yamashita was late arriving, so I had no one to get advice from on those matters. I brought an honor guard company of heavily armed legionnaires with me for embassy security. The CIA types stayed in the background, disguised as construction workers.
“The President of the United States Galactic Federation offers you this unique gift,” I said, handing the King an ornamental case containing two matching gold-plated 45-caliber pistols.
“Thank you,” said the King, handing the guns off to an aide. “These weapons are magnificent. I am sorry I did not think of a gift for your President. Perhaps if he ever visits, I will return the favor.”
“I am here to advance trade and military treaties,” I said. “The galaxy is a dangerous place, and alliances are necessary for our mutual safety and survival. The USGF is especially concerned about repeated aggression from the Arthropodan Empire. We have already fought several wars against them.”
“But the spiders are now your allies,” commented the King. “That has not changed, has it?”
“It never hurts to have more allies,” I advised.
“The Scorpion Kingdom has done well enough on its own, up until now,” the King pointed out. “Our Kingdom is vast and powerful. But, I agree that the galaxy is a dangerous place. I need only to look up at the space debris ringing our world, to be reminded of that!”
“Technically we are still at war,” I reminded the King. “But I hope to put past differences behind us. Scorpions have been granted citizenship. Some have even joined the Legion, proving our differences can be set aside.”
“Yes, I heard about that,” said the King. “I want verification our troops have not been held against their will. I understand my traitorous incompetent Fleet Commander has joined your President’s Court?”
“Star-Sting was elected to Congress,” I said. “It was a historical moment for the USGF, and for representative government.”
‘Elected!” shouted the King. “Mere talk of elections is treason. Scorpions prefer structure in their lives. It is the same across the galaxy for all species we have encountered.”
“Freedom can be contagious,” I needled.
“Construction on your embassy has already been started,” said the King. “It is a good start. Make sure you build your outer wall high. I don’t want your contagious freedom escaping.”
“Freedom never harmed anyone,” I said.
“I have had enough for one day,” announced the King, dismissing me. “You and your aides can dine with my Court tonight. I prefer to dine alone.”
“Me too,” I said. “I will be supervising construction crews today, anyway. We can meet later in the week, after I have settled in.”
“Certainly,” said the King. “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Colonel Czerinski. I am sure we can find common ground during our talks.”
* * * * *
“What is that?” I asked, pointing to a small building by the USGF Embassy perimeter wall. “It looks like they are building a drive-up window.”
“They are,” Major Lopez confirmed. “McDonald’s Corporation Senior Vice President Ronald Carter can explain it to you better than I can. You remember Carter? You met hi
m back at New Gobi City.”
* * * * *
I shook hands with Carter at the construction site. He was supervising the raising of large neon Golden Arches.
“I can anticipate significant security concerns, putting a restaurant drive-up window on the embassy’s perimeter wall,” I commented. “Aren’t you at all concerned about car bombs?”
“So far, there appears to be no sign of an active insurgency anywhere in the Scorpion Kingdom,” Carter offered cheerfully. “Their government is very securely in place.”
“Yes, but we have killed a lot of scorpions. Some might still be irritated at us.”
“Terrorism doesn’t seem to be in their vocabulary,” said Carter. “I am confident McDonald’s is safe from attack.”
“I wish that were true back on New Colorado.” I eyed the arches and sighed. “It looks tacky having a McDonald’s out front. Embassy architecture is supposed to put American strength and resolve on display. How do you think it looks, hawking Big Macs out a slide window by the entrance to our embassy?”
“McDonald’s Corporation has not been able to negotiate a sale or lease of land off the embassy grounds,” explained Carter. “So, I took advantage of an obscure three-hundred-year-old federal statute, passed during dire economic times, that encourages private enterprise to partner with government whenever possible on construction projects. Not only is the USGF saving money, you are creating jobs!”
“This is madness,” I complained. “When does Taco Bell get its drive-up window?”
“Sorry, but the McDonald’s Corporation has an exclusive Embassy Franchise,” advised Carter, testily. “There will be no Taco Bells blighting the landscape this time! Those bastards!”
“Are there any more surprises?” I asked, turning to Lopez.
“The CIA is tunneling from our embassy basement to the King’s Palace,” Major Lopez whispered to me. “The plan is to bug the bugs.”
* * * * *
Private Garcia was posted to guard duty along the embassy’s perimeter wall. Scorpions passed by on the busy street running next to the embassy. They were as fascinated by us legionnaires as we were by them. Garcia noticed a scorpion that looked out of place. Or maybe the scorpion just looked different. It was wearing several pairs of wraparound sunglasses. Garcia nodded at the scorpion, and it came over to talk.
“Are you Tony the Toe?” asked the scorpion.
“How could you possibly know that?” asked Private Garcia. “I arrested the last scorpion that asked me that question, so this had better be good.”
“You will not be arresting anyone here,” advised the scorpion. “I have been cruising your database. That is where I got the idea for these cool sunglasses. I read about you on the database.”
“How did you access our database?” asked Private Garcia. “That is impossible from here.”
“Yeah, right,” said the scorpion. “No one can stop or control the Galactic Database. Computer hackers can access anything. You used to work for Bonanno & Associates. My employer wants to do business with Bonanno & Associates.”
“Mr. Bonanno went out of business,” explained Private Garcia. “We all lost our jobs to the vast ATM system.”
“Nevertheless, my employer wants to discuss business opportunities with Mr. Bonanno,” said the scorpion. “There would be a substantial consulting fee involved. I know you are connected. Can you put me in contact with Mr. Bonanno or his Family?”
“For a finder’s fee I will give you Mr. Bonanno’s email address,” said Private Garcia. “What’s it worth to you?”
“A lot,” said the scorpion. “There is a whole galaxy of rackets out there just begging us to run them. My employer intends to be first to exploit normalization of relations between our two great species.”
“I can put you in contact with Mr. Bonanno,” said Private Garcia. “But it is Guido you need to talk to. Guido is right here at the embassy. I last saw him selling cigarettes out the drive-up window at McDonald’s. You will need Legion protection, and only Guido can make that happen.”
Chapter 13
I went underground to visit the CIA. They had already tunneled under the King’s Palace, and were now slowly pushing up with optic cables, mini-cameras, and listening devices. CIA SAC (Special Agent in Charge) Rogers greeted me with a nod.
“What is your progress?” I asked. “We will have the Palace completely wired by this weekend,” replied Agent Rogers. “What is the likelihood of your being caught? It could get embarrassing. How would I explain that?” “We will fill in the tunnel as soon as we are finished. After that, we can listen in from the comfort of our own embassy.” “What if the scorpions decide to tunnel into our embassy?” I asked. “Can we prevent them from doing what you just did?” “Our embassy is designed to resist underground intrusion,” replied Agent Rogers. “The bugs can’t bug us.” As I was about to leave, I noticed an opened wooden crate off to the side. It contained a large military-type bomb. What is that?” I asked.
“A bomb,” answered Agent Rogers. “I know that. What kind of bomb?” “A nuke,” said Agent Rogers. “Explain to me why you have a nuke under the King’s Palace!” “Just in case things go wrong. If negotiations go awry, and the scorpions serve our heads up on a dinner platter, the nuke will avenge us.”
“I like the thought of payback if the scorpions cross us. But might the scorpions construe planting a nuke under the Royal Palace to be an assassination attempt on the King, or even an act of war? This is not a good idea.”
“We won’t get caught,” Agent Rogers said dismissively. “Anyway, it’s not your call.” “Why am I just finding out about this now? Am I not the ambassador? Why didn’t you ask for permission before playing with nukes?” “I repeat, it is not your call. Do not even think of interfering with this operation. You are in way over your head.” “Does General Daly know of this?” “All aspects of this project were approved at the highest levels,” insisted Agent Rogers. “I see,” I said. I went back through the tunnel to the embassy basement. A construction worker foreman was taking measurements. “There is lots of room down here,” I commented. “That’s good, because I want you to build several jail cells in this basement.” “That’s impossible,” replied the foreman. “I would have to completely tear out the plumbing. Do you have any idea how much that would send us over budget?”
“I want the jail cells to have iron rings bolted to the ceiling,” I advised. “They have to be sturdy enough to hold a scorpion. Or maybe a human. It would be nice if the cells were soundproof, too.”
“Do you intend to torture prisoners in your dungeon by hanging them from the ceiling?” asked the foreman. “Isn’t that illegal? I won’t do it!”
“You misunderstand. I want the iron rings installed so I can hang construction workers who refuse to follow orders, starting with you! Are we understanding each other yet?”
“Yes, sir, but it will cost extra,” said the foreman, doing calculations in his head. “Where is the money going to come from?” “Just charge it to the McDonald’s corporate account.” “That’s a good idea,” said the foreman, now happy. “How many torture cells do you want in your dungeon?” “Surprise me.” I left for the stairs.
* * * * *
I met Major Lopez upstairs in his office, next to mine. “I’m glad to see you’re all settled in,” I said. “This mission will be a real challenge.”
“I’d like to know whose bright idea it was for me to come along,” Lopez complained. “Don’t marines usually handle embassy security? Did you volunteer me for this bullshit?”
“No,” I answered. “I think General Daly has it in for you because you covered up that bar fight investigation at the Angry Onion.”
“That bendaho! Who does he think he is? Daly isn’t even a legionnaire. He’s a marine jar-head on temporary assignment. I say he has to go!”
“I agree with you completely. It’s messed up.”
Lopez shot off another string of
expletives in Spanish, but I paid no attention. “I ordered holding cells built in the basement,” I said, interrupting his cursing tirade. “When they are finished, I want those CIA friends of yours arrested and locked up. Then I want their nuke brought to my office for safekeeping. How come you didn’t tell me about their nuke?”
“You found out about that?” Lopez asked, obviously surprised. “Rogers pissed you off? Hey, no big deal. He pisses me off too. They’re no friends of mine. I just associate with the CIA because I have to.”
“If you associate with fools, you are going to be painted with a fool’s brush.” “That is very profound, colonel, sir,” I didn’t appreciate Lopez’s sarcasm, but let it slide. “The CIA isn’t going to be happy with you,” he warned. “It can be dangerous to get them angry. You better watch your back.” “I don’t care. I can be more dangerous. I just want to live past today. They were planting a nuke under the King’s Palace! You went along with that?”
Lopez shrugged. “Yeah, well ... in hindsight I can see how you might view it as a bit over the top. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I can’t let those fools run loose. Our mission is too dangerous, as it is.”
“Whatever.”
“One more thing. Since we may be here awhile, I want to develop human-scorpion interaction and relations. I am approving two-day passes for all legionnaires on weekends. Legionnaires may go out to see the sights in groups of five. There will be at least one NCO in each group to supervise. And make sure Private Krueger is always searched before going out. I don’t want any more drunken grenade incidents in taverns!”
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