Allies

by Walter Knight

  * * * * *

  Corporal Tonelli and Private Garcia saw Amanda coming and immediately closed the main gate. She violently rattled the tall iron bars. “Czerinski bombed my library! That china cannot be replaced! You tell Czerinski I am going to tear his limbs off one by one, and feed them to my pet dragon while he watches!”

  “Calm down, Amanda,” said Guido. “I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation.” “Oh, never mind. I’ll tell him myself!” she said, climbing the gate. “I’ll kill him!” “Alien spiders are not authorized to enter embassy grounds!” shouted Private Garcia. “I hold duel citizenship!” Amanda yelled as she easily scaled the gate and dropped down inside the perimeter. “Halt, or I’ll shoot!” warned Private Garcia. “Do it now!” “You can’t shoot Amanda,” said Guido, placing his hand over the barrel of Garcia’s assault rifle. “She doesn’t really mean it.” “You want to make a bet on that?” Amanda snatched Garcia’s rifle and bonked Guido on top of his helmet with it. “That’s enough!” warned Guido, drawing his pistol. “You may not enter the embassy. I will shoot!” Amanda smashed the rifle at Guido’s feet and ran toward the main embassy compound. Guido holstered his pistol. “Oh, well. Czerinski probably has it coming.”

  “We can’t just let her barge into our embassy like that,” protested Private Garcia. “What if she kills the Colonel?” “What if she does?” asked Guido. “What do you want me to do? Shoot Amanda? That’s not an option. Czerinski can handle himself.” Garcia used the phone in the guard shack to call in a warning.

  * * * * *

  “Sir,” Private Garcia said over the phone, “Amanda is coming up to your office!” “That’s nice,” I said. “What’s up?” “She says after today you will be nothing but dragon shit.” “Does that mean she is upset?” I asked nervously. “You think?” asked Private Garcia. “She says you bombed her library.” “And you and Guido let her through? You are supposed to shoot trespassers!” I hung up and ran for the exit stairwell, ducking inside.

  * * * * *

  Amanda stormed into the lobby. Seeing Major Lopez, she grabbed him by the lapels. “Have you seen Czerinski? I’m going to kill him!”

  “He was just here a minute ago,” said Lopez. “What is this all about?”

  “It was Czerinski who bombed my library and destroyed my antique china and my mother’s books!” shouted Amanda. “Did you know about that?”

  “No way! It was all Czerinski’s idea. The man has no morals.”

  “Where did that sewer rat run off to?” Amanda demanded, pressing her claw to Lopez’s throat.

  “I think he went down the stairwell,” replied Major Lopez, pointing. “The slimy coward is probably hiding in the basement. I hope you kill that bendaho real slow!”

  Amanda pushed Lopez aside and charged to the stairwell.

  * * * * *

  When I got to the basement, all the jail cells were empty, except one. Private Krueger was sleeping it off again for drunk and disorderly. No guards were about. I grabbed the keys sitting on a nearby desk and unlocked Krueger’s cell door. I jerked Krueger to his feet and pushed him out of the cell, then tossed him the jail keys. “Lock me in!” I yelled, frantically.

  “That’s a switch,” commented Krueger, rubbing his red eyes. “You in jail instead of me? It’s about time the worm turned.”

  “I said lock the cell door!” I shouted again. “That’s an order!”

  “Whatever,” said Private Krueger, locking the heavy iron door. “Have you gone crazy? You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you–”

  “Now throw me the keys!” I ordered.

  “What’s the point of locking you up and then giving you the only keys?” Private Krueger asked.

  “If you keep questioning my orders, I’ll put you on KP duty for the rest of your sorry short life! I might even have you shot! Give me those keys!”

  “You aren’t in much of a position to shoot anyone,” taunted Krueger, dangling the keys just beyond my reach.

  “I’ll tell your wife you have been messing with scorpions!”

  Private Krueger tossed me the keys just as Amanda entered the dungeon lockup. “You think you are safe in there?” fumed Amanda. “You are lucky I don’t have a gun!”

  “I’m sorry I tried to kill your husband,” I said. “It was bad judgment on my part. You know I just got all caught up in the moment when I found out we had declared war on you spiders.”

  “Kill my husband?” asked Amanda. “I don’t care if you kill him! I can always get a new husband! What about my mother’s books and my Imperial China? Those are irreplaceable!”

  “I am so sorry,” I said. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

  “You can die, is what you can do!” shouted Amanda. “You will die now!”

  Seeing a broom leaning against the wall, Amanda grabbed it and began sharpening the end to a point with her claw, fashioning it into a javelin. With the spear in her claw, she ran at the barred jail cell and threw the weapon with such force that it punctured the mattress I held up as a shield. The point narrowly missed me. Suddenly I remembered I had a pistol. I fired a full clip wildly at Amanda, but she ducked behind the desk sitting in a corner of the dungeon. Then she tossed a bucket of water at my cell. It clacked off the bars, the water showering my mattress.

  “Let’s talk. How can we resolve this?” I asked, trying to get her to be reasonable. “Breaking a few dishes is not a capital offense, Amanda!”

  “You know what?’ she said, peeking out from around the corner of the desk. “Seeing you in that jail cell is making me feel better already.”

  I fired my last round, nicking plaster off the wall by where she stood. “Ha! You missed!” “Just calm down, will you?” I stalled, looking frantically for more ammo. “I am calm!” she yelled. “I’ll tell you what. You stay in that jail cell for a month, and I’ll think about forgiving you.” “Really?” I dared a look from around my soaked and speared mattress. “That’s not so bad...” “That jail cell is exactly where you belong!” Amanda said, starting to sound a bit calmer. I sighed with relief. “Okay. You have a deal.” I looked at my watch. “I will stay here exactly one month from right this minute. And ... then you will forgive me, right?”

  “I’ll think about it,” said Amanda. “I’ll set up a camera to verify you stay in that cell!”

  “You have a deal,” I agreed.

  Amanda left. I radioed upstairs to Major Lopez. “Amanda is coming up,” I said. “Have her escorted off the grounds and issue shoot-to-kill orders if she ever trespasses again.”

  “You’re still alive?” asked Major Lopez. “How did that happen?” “That’s not funny,” I said. “I am serving a one-month self-imposed jail term down here. It was Amanda’s idea.” “That’s nuts,” replied Major Lopez. “What about the war?” “You fight it,” I said. “I’m taking a month off. It will be the first vacation I’ve had in years.” “But you are the ambassador,” said Major Lopez. “How will this look?” “You’re right,” I said. “I still will have some duties to perform. Send Master Sergeant Green down here, too. Pack his desk and office stuff and set him up just outside my cell. And another thing! Bust Guido down to private and put him on KP duty indefinitely. And break that potato peeling machine. Take his phone away, too!”

  “What?” asked Sergeant Green, now on the line. “What did I do to deserve joining you in jail? You’re the one who fired the missile!”

  “Yeah, but you should have told me it was a bad idea,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” asked Sergeant Green. “Killing that fool spider ambassador was the best idea you’ve had in a long time.”

  “Then you should have told me we had the wrong window!” I yelled. “Move your office down here now! I need a guard down here to make sure Amanda or spider marines don’t break through the tunnel and murder me in my sleep. Get down here, and bring a TV, another mattress, a lamp, a couch, some books, a refrigerator, and lot
s of food and drink.”

  * * * * *

  “Every time Czerinski screws up, I have to pay for it!” complained Sergeant Green, disconnecting. “How was I to know he shot the wrong window? If it was me, I would have blown up the whole building!”

  * * * * *

  Sergeant Green slid my food through the cell door cuff-port. “It’s southern fried chicken,” he announced. “Just like back home. It don’t get no better than that.”

  “I agree,” I replied. “Serving time in the slammer is hell.” “Not the way you do it,” said Sergeant Green. “You stuff any more furniture in there, and you won’t be able to find the toilet.” “I need my comforts,” I insisted. “Guido says he prepared that chicken especially for you,” commented Sergeant Green. “You know he’s still doing KP duty, right?” “I forgot. I’m not eating that!” I said, returning the tray of food, uneaten. “It’s good chicken,” argued Sergeant Green. “You don’t think Guido would mess with your food do you?” “You eat it,” I said. “I’m not eating anything Guido touches.” “I don’t want it,” said Sergeant Green, trashing the TV dinner. “I ate earlier.” “From now on, I am eating out of a can,” I said. “Check the bomb shelter supplies in the storage room. There is lots of food in there.”

  “I’m seeing cans of tuna, salmon, beans, chili, stew, peas, pears, peanut butter, crackers, cheese, and some scorpion food.” said Sergeant Green, as he rummaged through storage. “Take your pick.”

  “Let’s go with the scorpion food,” I said. “I feel like eating ethnic tonight.”

  Sergeant Green opened the can. “It looks like road kill mystery meat,” he observed, biting into a crunchy meat stick. “It’s a bit salty, but quite tender on the inside.”

  ‘I agree,” I said, after a taste. We both quickly finished off the can. “What is this, anyway? What does it say on the can?” “Do I read scorpion?” asked Sergeant Green. “How should I know? Do you want more?” “Nope,” I said, after scanning the can label with my translator. “I’m full.” “What’s the matter?” asked Sergeant Green. “Did you get indigestion from eating spicy food too fast?” “You don’t want to know,” I said, lying down and feeling ill. I clutched my stomach. “It tasted good while I was eating it.” Sergeant Green scanned the can for himself, then said in a glum tone, “Veal Mantidae.”

  * * * * *

  As a precaution against further hostilities, the scorpions deployed tanks and infantry between the two embassies. Once in a while, the spider ambassador would appear at his office window and shake his claw at the Americans across the street. Major Lopez would respond by giving him the one-fingered salute.

  On New Colorado, both militaries finally resorted to using nukes. The Arthropodan Empire targeted New Phoenix, New Gobi, Gila City, Scorpion City, and the Green Spider Colony at Waterstone. The Legion and marines countered with a massive nuclear attack. Arthropodan industry, cities, and crops lay in ruins.

  Amanda was so upset about the attack on Waterstone that she split up with George and applied for political asylum. I denied her request and entry into the American Embassy. She electronically filed an Appellate Court review, arguing that she held duel citizenship, and thus should not even need to apply for asylum. The Court held in her favor, and issued a temporary injunction requiring that I allow her refugee status and entry into the American Embassy. I ordered Amanda be locked up in the cell next to mine, pending the outcome of her immigration hearing.

  “When is my hearing?” asked Amanda through an air vent. “Shouldn’t I be allowed to talk to a lawyer? This is not fair.” “Not fair?” I asked. “Wait until you see who the immigration judge is going to be.” “Who?” asked Amanda. “Me!” I replied. “Oh, sweetie,” said Amanda in a suddenly kinder tone. “I am so sorry I got so mad at you. You were right. George is an ogre. Did I tell you I’m leaving him?”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “Are you also sorry about trying to skewer me with a broom handle?” “Yes, I am especially sorry about that,” cried Amanda. “Come on. Try to remember the good times.” “Like the time I shot you in my office on New Colorado for attacking me?” “I mean the other good times,” advised Amanda. “Okay, you win! I parole you from jail to be on your best behavior and forgive you for all transgressions.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said, walking out of the jail cell. “My vacation is over. But you are staying where you are!”

  “Vindictive bastard!” shouted Amanda.

  Chapter 17

  I met with the Scorpion King to discuss our mutual aid pact. So far, the scorpions were not assisting in the war effort at all, and the President was upset.

  “The problem is,” complained the King, “that when we signed the Mutual Aid Treaty, I did not expect you humans to go to war so soon. But now, after reading more of humanity’s history on your database, I can see I was naďve. Humans are always at war with someone!”

  “I want you to send your space fleet to the spider home world,” I said. “The unexpected deployment will take them by surprise and catch them strategically out of position.”

  “And what of possible Arthropodan retaliation against our home world?” asked the King. “We would be left defenseless.”

  “So far, fighting has been limited to the New Colorado sector,” I advised. “But the planet is being bombed to death. Both sides are reluctant to risk escalation to the home worlds. I am not saying I want you to attack Arthropoda. They would then attack Old Earth and Mars. The President hopes your mere presence will force a status-quo truce.”

  “That is quite a gamble,” commented the King. “What do I get out of it? And don’t tell me goodwill again.” “The USGF will share our beam transport technology,” I said. “And you will share your space stealth technology, too?” asked the King. “No way,” I replied. “You keep the best secrets for yourself,” said the King. “But no secret stays a secret forever. You once said so yourself. Fine, you have a deal. I will gather the fleet from the colonies.”

  * * * * *

  When the scorpion fleet was discovered heading for Arthropoda, a truce was immediately requested by the spiders. The USGF and its allies accepted. I was recalled back to New Colorado to take command of the newly occupied Gobi Agricultural District. The spiders gave up the ‘Bread Basket of the Galaxy’ in exchange for a permanent truce. Radiation killed most of the crops in the Gobi, but scientists were already developing radiation-resistant seeds. My promotion to brigadier is still pending. General Daly told me not to worry about it, he was checking on the matter.

  Most of my legionnaires are rotating back to New Colorado, too, replaced by marines. They happily filed into the Shenandoah for the trip back. Legionnaires chided their replacements from the Marine Corps and wished them luck.

  * * * * *

  Privates Tonelli and Garcia took a seat next to each other in the crowded cargo hold.

  “Guido, you have been a good friend,” said Private Garcia. “I will miss you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” asked Guido. “We’re finally going home, and you’re getting all melancholy? Are you getting a transfer to another unit?”

  “No,” said Garcia. “I just meant that, should anything happen to me on New Colorado, I want you to know I have always considered you a good friend. And I hope you don’t think poorly of me for the bad decisions I’ve made in my life.”

  “What could happen on New Colorado?” asked Guido. “The war is over. If you are worried about the radiation, just take an extra anti-radiation pill. They’ve given us plenty.”

  Garcia quietly gave Guido a thick envelope. “If anything goes wrong, I want you to have this as a little present,” whispered Garcia. “A letter inside will explain everything.”

  “You are going AWOL?” asked Guido. “That is not a good idea. I’ve thought about it myself, but I’ve made a life for myself in the Legion now. I’m happy. Besides, AWOL is not a good idea with that Legion tracking chip embedded in your arm. There is nowhere yo
u can go.”

  “I didn’t say I was going AWOL,” said Garcia. “Please keep that envelope, just in case something happens to me. I just don’t want you to think badly of me, if things don’t turn out right.”

  “I think you’re going crazy,” commented Guido, sliding back in his seat to get some rest during the trip. Guido stuffed the envelope into his pocket. “Sleep on it. If you don’t feel better in the morning, you should go see the company shrink, or maybe even the chaplain.”

  “God can’t help me now,” said Garcia. “Although the Grim Reaper may take me soon enough.”

  * * * * *

  A victory celebration and parade awaited us upon our arrival on New Colorado. Large crowds came out of their holes and tunnels to cheer their Legion heroes. I left the USGF stealth starship Shenandoah, waving to the girls and TV cameras as the crowd swept me away. A band played, and the parade started, with legionnaires at the head.

  * * * * *

  Private Garcia stayed behind, hiding in a storage bulkhead onboard the Shenandoah. Most of the crew, including Guido, had joined the celebration outside. Garcia burst into the ship’s command center, spraying the pilot and crew members with nerve agent. He inserted into the fight guidance computer preset flight instructions provided by the scorpions. As Garcia strapped himself into the pilot’s chair, the Shenandoah suddenly lifted off on a direct course back to the Scorpion Kingdom. It landed on an asteroid in one of the Kingdom’s smaller, more remote colonies. Scorpion scientists, engineers, and crew immediately boarded the Shenandoah to steal its secrets. The Shenandoah’s stealth technology would be used to build a new space fleet, allowing the Scorpion Kingdom to take its rightful place among the galaxy’s great empires. The Shenandoah might even threaten Old Earth, should the USGF try to retaliate for the theft.