“I have eye-witness reports of a bright light from the sky, followed by a human pestilence hand reaching down and squashing commandos.”
“Magic mushroom abuse is pervasive in the New Gobi,” scoffed the spider commander. “I blame the fog of war, and Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, and video games.”
“If Czerinski has a secret weapon, I want it. You will investigate the matter thoroughly. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
* * * * *
The spider commander contacted Corporal Tonelli at his guard shack to offer assistance, and to collect on New York sweeping Seattle.
“I heard your partner picked New York to sweep, then reversed his bet,” commented the spider commander. “Too bad, so sad.”
“It happens,” replied Tonelli, giving the spider guard across the border a hard stare for snitching on Jesus. “Do you want to bet on Texas-Seattle?”
“What?” shouted the spider guard. “Guido, I didn’t tell anyone anything. I’m no snitch!”
“Let’s call your partner over,” suggested the spider commander smugly. “See who he thinks will win the series.”
Corporal Tonelli motioned for Jesus to take a break. “Someone wants to talk to you!”
“I’m told you know your baseball,” said the spider commander conversationally, shaking hand and claw with Private Christ. “First, I appreciate your tankers rescuing me from my own prison. Are you connected, like my friend Guido?”
“I lost my enlistment bonus on the last Yankees game,” lamented Private Christ. “Gambling is evil. I recommend against it.”
“Lots of things are evil. It’s all relative. Where do you get your baseball savvy?”
“From my Dad,” explained Private Christ. “He knows all. He’s a fan, but I’ll never gamble again. It’s a sin. I know it.”
“Don’t you want to get your money back? I’ll loan you more than enough to get your money back, if you can hook me up with a winner for the American League title.”
“I’ll talk to my Dad.”
“Sorry about almost killing you two during the last war,” advised the spider commander as an afterthought. “Goodwill goes a long way. Next time I’ll give you fair warning, if you pick me a winner.”
“Thanks for nothing,” groused Corporal Tonelli. “You owe me big-time anyway, if you expect to do business through my sports book. It was a miracle we didn’t get crushed by your tanks.”
“Fair enough. Speaking of miracles, there was a report of strange lights in the sky during the battle. Did you see anything?”
“Sorry, there were no UFO sightings on my watch.”
“What kind of bright lights?” asked Private Christ. “Omniscient?”
“Exactly! What did you see?”
“Nothing. I saw nothing.”
Chapter 12
President John Kennedy addressed the assembled guests at Rice University. “I am particularly delighted to be here. This City of Houston, this State of Texas, this country of the United States, was not built by those who waited and rested and wished to look behind them. This country was conquered by those who moved forward – and so will space.
“William Bradford, speaking in 1630 of the founding of the Plymouth Bay Colony, said that all great and honorable actions are accompanied with great difficulties, and both must be enterprised and overcome with answerable courage.
“Man, in his quest for knowledge and progress, is determined and cannot be deterred. The exploration of space will go ahead, whether we join in it or not, and it is one of the great adventures of all time, and no nation which expects to be the leader of other nations, can expect to stay behind in the race for space.
“Those who came before made certain that this country made the first waves of the industrial revolution, the first waves of modern invention, and the first wave of nuclear power, and this generation does not intend to founder in the backwash of the coming age of space. We mean to lead it. For the eyes of the world now look into space, to the moon, and to the planets beyond, and we have vowed that we shall not see space governed by a hostile flag, but by a banner of freedom.
“Yet the vows of this nation can only be fulfilled if we in this nation are first; and, therefore, we intend to be first. In short, our leadership in science and in industry, our hopes for peace and security, our obligations to ourselves as well as others, all require us to make this effort, to solve these mysteries, to solve them for the good of all men, and to become the world’s leading space-faring nation.
“We set sail on this new sea because there is new knowledge to be gained, and new rights to be won, and they must be won and used for the progress of all people. For space science, like nuclear science and all technology, has no conscience of its own. Whether it will become a force of good or ill depends on man, and only if the United States occupies a position of pre-eminence can we help decide whether this new ocean will be a sea of security or a new terrifying theater of war.
“There is no strife, no prejudice, no national conflict in outer space as yet. Its hazards are hostile to us all. Its conquest deserves the best of all mankind. But why, some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal. And they may well ask why climb the highest mountain? Why, thirty-five years ago, fly the Atlantic? Why does Rice play Texas, and not Boston College?
“We choose to go to the moon in this decade and to do other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which only America can accomplish.
“Not only will we go to the moon, but we will launch probes to explore the solar system and beyond, to map the stars for America and humanity to follow. The growth of our science and education will be carried by new knowledge of our universe and environment, by new techniques of learning and mapping and observation, and by new tools and computers for industry. Houston, your city of Houston, once the furthest outpost on the old frontier of the West, will be the furthest outpost on the new frontier of science and space.
“Many years ago, the great British explorer George Mallory, who was to die on Mount Everest, was asked why did he want to climb it. He said, ‘Because it is there.’ Well, space is there, and we’re going to climb it, and the moon and the planets are there, and new hopes for knowledge are there. And therefore, as we set sail, we ask God’s blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked.”
* * * * *
A year later, a reporter asked, “Will the President be traveling to Dallas for an update on the breakthrough technological and beam propulsion advances?”
“Dallas?” scoffed NASA Assistant Deputy Director Manny Lopez. “Not likely. I will brief the President in Washington. The President will go nowhere near Dallas.”
* * * * *
Captain Sally Ride, commanding the modified space shuttle Challenger and six crew members, approached Asteroid 449 Hamburga, a cold carbonaceous rock fifty-five miles in diameter, out in the Asteroid Belt. Challenger was humanity’s first visitor, a joint venture by private enterprise and government. The military intended to place sensors to listen for alien life beyond the Solar System. McDonald’s Corporation sought to claim its first asteroid in an ever growing hamburger-flipping empire. Mars and Asteroid 449 Hamburga were just the beginning. Quarter Pounders and Chicken McNuggets would boldly go where no man had gone before. Burger King comes in second again, those punks!
But, something was terribly wrong. Jets failed as Hamburga got closer. Explosions filled the cabin with smoke. Out of control, Challenger crashed into solid rock, bounced in low gravity, and came to rest in a small crater. The crew was still alive, but not for long. Challenger lost air pressure. They donned their spacesuits, but the Grim Reaper would claim them soon. In the cold vacuum of space, no one can hear you scream.
The sight of a large alien s
pace ship filled the portals, settling next to the wreckage. What the hell? Captain Ride desperately pressed her face against a portal for a better look. She could see writing on the side of the craft, USGFS Czerinski.
* * * * *
Stanford University and the McDonald’s Corporation successfully lobbied Congress to bypass time-travel protocols and mount a rescue mission for Challenger. Orders came directly from the President: Save Sally Ride.
Now I led legionnaires down the ramp of our shuttle to the wreckage. The mission was to escort the Challenger crew aboard, effect repairs, and send them back to Old Earth. Captain Ride was destined for greatness, not death on an asteroid.
I tapped on a portal, motioning to be allowed in. Captain Ride pointed to the other legionnaires, alarmed by their armaments. Oh, good grief. “Do you want us to leave?” I radioed.
“Good point, sir.”
The main hatch popped open. I led Captain Ride to the Czerinski. Legion techs initiated repairs, duct-taping fuel lines and gaping holes. Ha! Another use for duct tape, saving Challenger.
“My name is Colonel Joey R. Czerinski,” I said, introducing myself. “I’m from the future. We are here to save you. Your crew is being debriefed, but you and I need to speak privately.”
“Czerinski, same as your starship?” asked Captain Ride. “You make quite a first impression on a girl.”
“It’s a token of gratitude from a grateful nation,” I bragged. “I also have a boulevard named after myself on New Colorado.”
“Poland conquered the stars?”
“Not yet.”
“You will take me to New Colorado?” asked Captain Ride, brightening. “My Polish hero and savior intends to whisk me off my feet and across the galaxy? You had me at the portal.”
“My orders are to send you back to Old Earth to do great things. You are to make a difference for America.”
“I want to make a difference on New Colorado,” argued Captain Ride. “There is no going back.”
“Hold out your arm,” I ordered, injecting meds with a hypo. “It’s just an inoculation against space induced osteoporosis, cancer, solar radiation, space rot, bird flu, and some other nasties my crew carries. Damn sand mites get everywhere. As a bonus, I included a complementary micro chip that slows aging.”
“How shall I ever repay you, Colonel Czerinski? I’m overwhelmed by your generosity.”
“How about sex?” I blurted out, giving it a shot. “We could make history, the first humans to do it on an asteroid.”
“That would be quite a legacy, but I’ll pass,” answered Captain Ride stiffly. “Have you no couth?”
“No, not really. I’m in for the duration. It’s been a long time out on the frontier with just aliens.”
“Aliens?” marveled Captain Ride. “We’re not alone?”
“You and your crew are going to learn things from my men that need to be kept top secret,” I explained patiently. “The less you know about aliens, the better.”
“I am an explorer,” bristled Captain Ride. “It’s not my nature to be kept in the dark. Tell me everything.”
“Challenger crashed because of an O-ring seal on a rocket, freezing a line to an outside fuel tank,” I started. “It’s technical.”
“I’m a physicist. I live and breathe technical. Continue.”
“You crashed and broke your space ship. Too bad, so sad. After repairs, we’re sending you back on a new mission. Congress wants to cut NASA’s budget. That must not happen. The survival of humanity depends on America’s accelerated expansion into space.”
“Why?”
“Because humanity is alone, surrounded and under siege by a galaxy of bug empires. We must build and prepare to defend our species against an alien invasion. I’m sending you back with downloaded information containing inventions and technological innovations. Most important, I will give you knowledge of sporting events so you can parlay insider knowledge into a multi-billion-dollar Las Vegas empire, to co-fund NASA. I wish I could join you on Old Earth to see it happen, but the powers-to-be don’t trust me with money. Me, a Hero of the Legion. Can you believe it?”
“Whose crazy idea was this Las Vegas scheme?”
“Mine,” I answered indignantly. “Please, we need you. It will work. I’m so proud to meet you, Sally, to see the Space Age being born again. When I joined the Foreign Legion, I never thought I could make a difference. I just wanted to survive the day one step ahead of the Grim Reaper, but they kept promoting me. We are going to propel America across the stars. No one else but America can do it.”
“Why not just give me lottery numbers?”
“It’s more fun going to Vegas, baby.”
“Do you really have sand mites?” asked Captain Ride, relenting for a moment on my earlier proposition. “Oh, never mind.”
“They’re hardly noticeable.”
“How did someone as immature as you ever get promoted to Full-Bird-Colonel?” asked Captain Rider, still sizing me up.
“I saved the world eight times, and the galaxy three. I’m a Hero of the Legion. I get perks for that. You should be more appreciative. I even saved you. Twice.”
“Thank you for your service and for saving me,” replied Captain Ride, determined more than ever to give back and to do her duty for America and humanity. “Twice? If you won’t tell me about aliens, is there anything else I should know?”
“Yes, vote Republican. Humanity depends on it.”
Chapter 13
“Did you know all legionnaires are injected with a tracking chip to prevent desertion?” asked Corporal Tonelli conversationally. “It’s embedded in your ass.”
“Yes,” answered Private Christ. “That’s the first thing I was warned about. It’s in the fine print of my enlistment contract. Desertion is a capital offense too. We’re all in for the duration, whatever that means.”
“Doesn’t that grate on you?”
“Why should it? I just got here. It’s all good, we volunteered. Right? I even swore an oath on the Bible.”
“But what if you could get away?” pressed Tonelli. “Wouldn’t you take it?”
“Before I collect on the Yankees game? No way, José.”
“If we traveled back in time, we would know all the scores in advance. Better yet, the Legion couldn’t track us with their satellites. We’d be free to do as we pleased.”
“Czerinski would hunt us through time and space,” reasoned Christ. “Our death would be slow and painful. It’s the law. Do you think I want to go through that again?”
“Czerinski is nothing but a low-rent thug and thief. All he cares about is himself. I’ll take care of Czerinski. I’ve got gold. We can travel back in time to make our fortune, and Czerinski can’t stop us. Come with me. We’ll be rich.”
“Why me? If you want to desert, just do it. You don’t need my blessing.”
“I know who you are, and so does everyone else in the battalion,” explained Tonelli. “Or, at least they suspect. It’s only a matter of time before the galaxy figures out the truth and breaks down our door to find you. Already tourists are asking about you. The CIA and scientists will want to stick pins and needles into you to find out what makes you tick. Religions will claim you as their own. Aliens will try to abduct you. Do you want to risk getting probed by aliens?”
“Is that bad?”
“Very bad. Jehovah’s Witnesses will search door to door for you. Then, there’s the Illuminati. God only knows what those freaky Mason fiends might do to you if you don’t cooperate and give them a direct pipeline to Heaven. If you don’t give the secret sign, they’ll use you for a ritual sacrifice, or cut off your balls.”
“There is no direct pipeline to God. Sometimes Dad gives everyone the silent treatment, and sometimes miracles fall from the sky like cats and dogs.”
“Parents.”
“Dad gets jealous because I can walk on water, and He can’t.”
“I understand completely. Well? Are you in?”
“Y
ou still did not answer my question. Why me? What’s in it for you to drag me along?”
“My gold is heavy,” answered Tonelli, stalling. “I need help carrying it.”
“I don’t trust you Romans. Crucify me once, shame on you. Crucify me twice, shame on me.”
“I’m just covering all my bases,” confessed Tonelli, crossing himself. “I never worried about getting into Heaven before, because I figured God don’t let legionnaires in. I’m a sinner. Being Italian-American, I get tainted with that Sicilian Mafia brush all the time. There’s no such thing as the Mafia, but still, that’s two strikes against me from the start. If I left you behind to be probed by aliens or burned at the stake by Masons, it would be strike three. I’d burn for all eternity in Hell for sure.”
“I see your point. Okay, I’m all in.”
* * * * *
Williams was Sergeant of the Guard at the time machine bunker portal when Tonelli and Christ arrived with heavy duffles loaded on push dollies. Sergeant Williams waved his friend Tonelli through the security gates. “Guido, what’s up?”
“Ever want to just get away?” asked Corporal Tonelli. “Travel to Tennessee and Old Earth? Fire flies at night, smooth hickory wind blowing from Memphis, chiggers, fire ants, noisy cicadas, and every kind of poisonous snake, Land of Cotton, old times there are not forgotten.”
“The time machine is off limits. Unauthorized time travel is a capital offense.”
“Everything worth doing these days is a capital offense,” scoffed Tonelli. “What’s the harm? We’ll cover for you while you visit. When you get back, we will slip away in time, never to be seen or heard from again. Who’s to know?”
“What about Colonel Czerinski?”
“Czerinski hates us both. He’ll be glad to be rid of us, that’s for sure. The man holds a grudge forever.”
America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 20: Time Machine Page 6