Culture War

by Walter Knight

  “Wiped out?” asked Major Lopez. “You mean like Custer? The problem with that scenario is Custer didn’t have nukes. I do. That last explosion was just a small warning of more to come.”

  “You humans are so apoplectic,” commented the spider general. “You just don’t care what you destroy!”

  “Allow us to evacuate, or I’ll launch a nuke at your Capital City Spaceport,” threatened Major Lopez. “I’ll launch enough nukes to ruin this whole sector and the surrounding sectors.”

  “You might use nukes even if I let you go,” said the spider general. “Why should I trust anything you say?”

  “Call a truce,” said Major Lopez. “I give my word as an officer and a gentleman and a conquistador to honor that truce.”

  “You have no sense of honor or responsibility,” said the spider general. “Already that forest fire you started is out of control. The ecological damage you have wreaked is immeasurable.”

  “The next nuke I launch will land over your head,” threatened Major Lopez.

  “I doubt that,” said the spider general. “I know you do not want to destroy New Memphis. But, I will call another truce for the sake of saving innocent civilian lives. I guarantee that any more truce violations will be dealt with harshly. I have no problem using strategic weapons from space to destroy you.”

  “The truce will hold,” promised Major Lopez. “Unlike Colonel Czerinski, my word of honor means something.”

  “You’ve had a falling out with Czerinski?” asked the spider general. “That is very interesting.”

  “I intend to place Colonel Czerinski under arrest for dereliction of duty.”

  “I have a better idea,” suggested the spider general. “I will pay you one million dollars to plant a bomb in Colonel Czerinski’s office desk. I will even provide the bomb.”

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  Chapter 15

  “Is this a national park?” asked the spider pilot. He was greatly admiring the scenery as they drove through Montana. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “Probably,” answered Sergeant Williams. “People are not allowed to build houses here or molest the countryside.”

  “Ah, that explains it,” said the spider pilot. “And I know it is illegal to take rocks and minerals from any national park. I saw that warning on a sign. Smokey the Bear will arrest anyone who does. Even so, it must take great restraint on the public’s part to avoid such temptation.”

  “What temptation?” asked Sergeant Williams. “What’s a few rocks? Take one if you want.”

  “I am referring to all the gold nuggets you just leave lying about,” explained the spider pilot. “It must take either great restraint or very harsh penalties to resist stealing such wealth.”

  “You can see gold nuggets?” asked Sergeant Williams, looking out the window. “Where? I see nothing.”

  “Gold nuggets are everywhere,” commented Dawn. “The streets of America really are paved with gold. It’s very pretty. I thought it was just a myth.”

  “You must have really good vision,” replied Sergeant Williams. “I don’t see gold anywhere. I don’t believe you.”

  “I can see why Colonel Custer and the Indians fought so many bitter battles,” said the spider pilot. “Sure, most of the gold is nothing but fine dust. But there are many fine nuggets lying about that could be just picked up. Is it out of respect for the fallen soldiers and braves that you just leave the gold there?”

  “Stop the car!” ordered Sergeant Williams. “Prove you can see gold nuggets lying about. I don’t believe it. You didn’t have this mighty power of observation on New Colorado. How is it that now you are the greatest prospector on Earth?”

  “Old Earth has much more gold than New Colorado,” explained the spider pilot as he stood by the van, looking about. “On New Colorado, the gold is mostly hidden underground or is obscured by rivers. Here on Old Earth, it is just lying everywhere.”

  “Where?” demanded Sergeant Williams. “Prospectors have combed these Badlands for centuries. There is no gold left.”

  “How curious you cannot see it,” commented the spider pilot. “Perhaps my eight eyes see better than yours. I can manipulate the light spectrum better too, accenting certain colors at will. You really can’t see all this gold?”

  “I’m still waiting,” said Sergeant Williams. “Prove you can see and find gold nuggets so easily.”

  “I do not want to violate the laws of my new country. I love America. It really is the land of opportunity.”

  “You’re stalling. I knew it! You can’t see anything.”

  “Quit your constant bickering,” interrupted Dawn. She walked out into the sagebrush about two hundred yards and picked up a thumbnail-sized piece of quartz containing a gold nugget. Dawn handed the rock to Sergeant Williams. “See? There is gold everywhere here. Now, can we get on with our trip? I want to see the rest of Montana.”

  “Can you find me another gold nugget?” asked Sergeant Williams. “Just so I know for sure that wasn’t a trick or a fluke.”

  Dawn looked past Sergeant Williams and up the hillside behind him. She scampered up a ravine about fifty yards and plucked more gold from the rocky ground. She held it up for all to see.

  “That one is mine,” said Private Krueger, snatching the nugget. “Sweetie, how about we stay here awhile?”

  “Boring,” replied Dawn, tapping several feet impatiently and folding all four arms across her chest. “It’s dry and dusty and hot out here. Don’t get me started about what all this sagebrush is doing to my allergies. There aren’t even any clubs out here. The radio only plays country-western music. And besides, I thought you said it is illegal to steal rocks from a national forest anyway. Smokey the Bear is probably spying on us from a satellite in space this very moment, and I don’t want my parole violated.”

  “I think we might be on an Indian reservation,” said Sergeant Williams. “That means there is no federal park ban on rock collecting.”

  “Really?” asked the spider pilot. “Are you saying the Native Americans don’t mind you stealing their gold? Isn’t that what the ancient battle fought here was all about?”

  “No,” replied Sergeant Williams. “It was hunting the buffalo to near extinction that started the wars.”

  “It says on the database that there was a gold rush in the Badlands,” said the spider pilot, still reading. “You lied. White human pestilence speak with forked tongue. Long Knives break promises again!”

  “What are you reading?” asked Sergeant Williams, snatching the spider pilot’s data pad. “If you had read closer you would have discovered that we have been at peace with the Native Americans for centuries. They even fight in the Legion.”

  “And you would risk that peace by stealing their gold?” asked the spider pilot. “That is very irresponsible of you.”

  “There is no law against picking up a nugget or two or five off the ground,” insisted Sergeant Williams. “The Indians don’t mind if we steal a little gold. They’re used to it by now. Besides, today’s modern tribes cater to tourists, and run the best damn casinos outside of Nevada. We are tourists. They want us out here looking for gold.”

  “They may tolerate us looking for gold, but they would not approve of us finding any,” argued the spider pilot. “I still say you could cause an incident by removing gold nuggets from their land.”

  “American Indians aren’t hostile anymore,” concluded Sergeant Williams. “You have seen too many movies.”

  “I saw a bumper sticker on the back of an old pickup truck that said, ‘CUSTER HAD IT COMING,’” commented Dawn. “That sounds hostile to me.”

  “That’s just a joke,” replied Sergeant Williams. “Have you no sense of humor? Ha! I think that’s hilarious. Now find some more gold nuggets before someone sees us out here.”

  “What is the magic word?” asked Dawn. “Say it with feeling.”

  “Please!” said Sergeant Williams. “Pretty please with sugar on top, find me some more gold nuggets. You can
be replaced! Maybe I should find my own spider biker babe. You spiders could be worth your weight in gold, and you’re big.”

  “Willie, he called me fat!” cried Dawn, as she reached down to pick up a speck of gold. “You don’t think I’m fat do you?”

  “Of course not,” said Private Krueger. “He just means your have a large exoskeleton.”

  “You should kill him for insulting me,” suggested Dawn. “You should defend my honor.”

  “I can’t, sweetie,” explained Private Krueger. “He’s a sergeant. It’s against the law to kill sergeants.”

  “Humph!” puffed Dawn, finding another nugget and giving it to Willie. “Now can we get a hotel room? This is our honeymoon, you know! This hot sun is bleaching my makeup and drying out my pores.”

  “Does anyone realize how eco-friendly this method of mining gold is?” asked Sergeant Williams. “No strip-mining or tunneling is needed when you can just spot gold on the surface with those eight spider eyes of yours.”

  “Whatever,” replied Dawn.

  “You once told me you have a good-looking sister who is single,” commented Sergeant Williams. “Can you introduce her to me sometime?”

  “So you can use her to hunt for gold?” asked Dawn. “How mercenary of you.”

  “Nonsense,” said Sergeant Williams. “I don’t have a girl friend. It might work out for us.”

  “You’re a wimp,” replied Dawn. “You wouldn’t survive the honeymoon. Sissy would kill you for sure.”

  “I am a decorated war hero,” said Sergeant Williams. “I can handle anything Sissy can throw at me.”

  “We’ll see,” said Dawn, showing Sergeant Williams a photo of Sissy. “Do you still think you can handle her?”

  “I think Sissy is beautiful,” insisted Sergeant Williams, gulping. “Keep this a secret. If word gets out you spiders can spot gold at three hundred yards, it will start a new gold rush before we can get rich ourselves.”

  “You are afraid of a gold rush led by spider immigrants to Old Earth,” said the spider pilot. “How ironic.”

  Even though she knew it would be a waste of time, Dawn emailed her sister a picture of Sergeant Williams, saying that the war hero thought Sissy was beautiful and wanted to hook up. Sissy immediately answered that she had seen Williams on TV, and at the Angry Onion Tavern, and thought he was one hot hairball human pestilence, and that she wanted to meet him, too. Sissy promised to call General Daly and get special permission to beam to Old Earth at Legion expense and join them in Big Sky Country. Sergeant Williams was ecstatic about the news.

  “I’m in love, and I’m going to get married,” said Sergeant Williams, letting out a rebel yell. “We will meet up at Little Bighorn after we collect some more gold.”

  “Careful what you wish for,” warned Dawn. “Sissy is kind of wild.”

  * * * * *

  Sissy joined them at the Little Bighorn Battlefield, brought by a special Legion shuttle. They silently walked about the markers for the fallen Seventh Calvary. Sissy could see the little specks of gold she had been told about, but ignored the gold.

  “Even though the dead have been long since removed, I can tell this is sacred ground,” commented Sissy. “I hope no one is considering prospecting for gold here.”

  “No, of course not,” said Sergeant Williams, putting an arm around Sissy as they solemnly walked past the markers. “There are plenty of other more prolific sites.”

  “Tell me about him,” said Sissy, pointing at the spider pilot. “He has not said a word the whole time I’ve been here. Does he talk?”

  “Usually I can’t shut him up,” said Sergeant Williams. “He is that Air Wing defector that flew his new star fighter to a Legion base. In gratitude, the Legion is relocating him to Montana as part of their agreement. I don’t know why he is so silent now. I think he’s spooked by the battlefield.”

  “It’s the spirits of the fallen,” replied Sissy, clearly upset. “Can’t you feel it? They’re screaming at us. Can we leave?”

  “I want to leave too,” said Dawn, giving her sister a hug. They ran back to the van. “We will leave now!” The men followed.

  “Are you alright?” asked Private Krueger. Dawn was crying. “What’s the matter?”

  “The war may be over at the Little Bighorn,” answered Dawn. “But there is no peace here. Their spirits still fight.”

  “There is no such thing as ghosts,” said Sergeant Williams. “That is crazy talk.”

  “If you believe we are crazy, then you are not for me,” said Sissy, now sitting in the van next to the spider pilot. She put a claw on his knee. “You, on the other claw, interest me a lot. Speak to me, big silent warrior.”

  “I do not like pushy females,” replied the spider pilot. “But, you interest me, too. Will you join me under the big Montana sky?”

  “Did you just proposition me?” asked Sissy, now giving the spider pilot’s knee a firm squeeze. “You are so romantic. Of course I will join you. Who would have thought I would find true love way across the galaxy, on Old Earth, with an Arthropodan Air Wing pilot?”

  “That’s ex-Air Wing pilot,” he commented.

  “What about me?” asked Sergeant Williams, very upset. “You came here to meet me!”

  “Get lost, human pestilence hairball,” answered Sissy. “Get someone else to search for gold crumbs from all this sage brush. Who do you think you are, luring me out here on false pretenses? You’re lucky I don’t stick my claw somewhere painful where the sun does not shine. Only out of respect for the spirits already residing here, do I not kill you now. They would not want your shallow soul sharing this hallowed ground with them!”

  * * * * *

  They drove away in silence. After some time admiring the scenery, Dawn suddenly screamed and pointed. “What is that creature?”

  “It is a buffalo,” answered Private Krueger.

  “Is it edible?” asked the spider pilot. “Can they be raised domestically?”

  “You can, but most people prefer beef,” explained Private Krueger. “The Park Service maintains buffalo herds for historical reasons, and to make sure they don’t go extinct or fall ill to disease. Buffalo are uniquely American and an important part of our history.”

  Passing a ‘For Sale’ sign out in a field, the spider pilot announced, “This is where I will settle. I will buy this land and raise buffalo. Buffalo are a worthwhile American tradition I will help keep alive to show my appreciation for my new country.”

  “Is there gold here?” asked Sergeant Williams, already looking at the ground. “It doesn’t look rocky enough. Sissy, do you see any gold?”

  Sissy and the spider pilot looked at each other and laughed. “There’s lots of gold in them there hills,” said Sissy. “When you get back to New Colorado, I’ll send you a post card telling you all about it.”

  “I appreciate all your help, Sergeant,” said the spider pilot. “This is where we part ways. After I get established, I will send you a gift of buffalo.”

  “What would I do with these beasts on New Colorado?” asked Sergeant Williams. “Be a cowboy? I’m in the Legion. I want gold!”

  “You will be the first on New Colorado to have buffalo,” said the spider pilot. “They will be worth a lot of money, and you will be bringing a part of America across the stars.”

  “Maybe,” said Sergeant Williams, now seriously thinking about raising buffalo in the New Gobi. “I hope you two are able to make a good life here. I envy you. It’s not Tennessee, and there aren’t fireflies in the woods, but Montana is still God’s country.”

  “I intend to raise a large family,” said the spider pilot, smiling at Sissy. “I will ride horses all day and herd cattle and buffalo. God bless you and America.”

  “If I find a spider bride, I might be back,” commented Sergeant Williams, still suffering from gold fever. “We may still become neighbors. There’s one more thing that needs to be done. You need to get a name. Have you given that any thought?”

  “R
ecent custom is for a human to pick an Old Earth name for new citizens,” said Sissy. “You should choose an American name for my brave fighter pilot.”

  “I want something with a western cowboy flavor,” insisted the spider pilot. “I trust you to suggest something appropriate, and to not play a joke on me like sometimes happens to others.”

  “Texas Red,” said Sergeant Williams. “It’s an outlaw name, but it fits your toughness.”

  “Texas Red it is,” said the spider pilot, extending his claw to shake Sergeant Williams’ hand. “Until we meet again.”

  * * * * *

  Stealth Legion troop transport shuttles came in low over the eastern edge of the New Gobi Desert. They landed on a remote plateau of thick grass and occasional springs. The area was, as yet, off limits to colonization, although a few prospectors squatted in the severe canyons.

  Heavily armed legionnaires quickly exited the shuttles to secure a perimeter. They were followed by cowboys driving six-wheeled Gators packed with supplies. Then came the snorting and stomping buffalo, courtesy of some eccentric millionaire on Old Earth. He wanted far-flung humanity on New Colorado to have a piece of Americana to prevent homesickness, and to preserve American culture and history.

  The patriotic gesture, now a top-secret Legion operation, was also meant to put an indelible American stamp on New Colorado. Legion paratroopers were followed by park rangers, who would monitor and care for the buffalo herd until they became self-sustainable.

  Sergeant Williams gave the thumbs-up for the shuttles to lift off. He would be staying behind to supervise. Sergeant Williams sat in the shade, watching legionnaires carrying crates for a second project. He read his orders again before releasing this additional special species from Old Earth. These small critters, rare and protected on Old Earth, would trump the Buffalo in establishing American dominance on New Colorado. Doors on the crates were lifted, and the odd, noisy creatures scampered out into the grass.