Authors: Walter Knight
* * * * *
Captain G. Hawn called me to introduce himself, and for an update. “This is a shakedown cruise for us,” he advised. “Do you have anything we can use for target practice? We need to calibrate our weapons systems.”
“Yes,” I said immediately. “There is an abandoned castle on a hill just north of Scorpion City. It’s an eye sore. Please flatten it.”
“I see it!” said Captain Hawn. “Bombs away! Scratch one castle!”
“Try not to hit the condominiums next to it,” I advised. “I don’t want any bad press on your first day in orbit around New Colorado.”
“Now you tell me!”
* * * * *
One day after buffalo hunting season ended, someone placed a bomb underneath Lieutenant Perkins’ car. The explosion knocked the vehicle onto its side. In retaliation, peacekeepers raided the new Scorpion City Elks Lodge. They found nothing, so we arrested one of the Exalted Rulers. I figured he must be guilty of something, or he wouldn’t be Exalted. Fighting terrorism is an ongoing never-ending process.
* * * * *
A skinny weasel-looking spider approached me as I left Legion Headquarters. “Major Czerinski?” he asked, opening a brief case. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?” I asked. “I don’t want any.”
Sergeant Green immediately flanked the spider, in case he pulled a weapon. Sergeant Wayne stood behind. The little spider handed me a sheet of paper.
“You are hereby served and given formal notice of a civil lawsuit filed in Scorpion City Superior Court by plaintiff Mountain Storm against you for the willful and unlawful destruction of his castle domicile and extensive personal property within. Actual damages sought are $3,439,286.41 plus and indeterminate amount for punitive damages and emotional distress.”
“His castle is across the border,” I said. “Scorpion City Superior Court lacks jurisdiction.” “I am just a process server,” said the spider. “Hire a lawyer if you want to argue an opinion.” “Arrest him!” I ordered. “Throw him in the dungeon with that fool from the Elks!” “You can’t arrest process servers just because you think the lawsuit is unfair,” advised Sergeant Green. “That is like shooting the messenger.”
“That’s a great idea!” I replied, drawing my pistol. Sergeant Wayne knocked it out of my hand from behind. “Sorry sir,” said Sergeant Wayne. “It is no longer legal to shoot process servers. They passed a law about that.” “This is a spider conspiracy!” I fumed. “This lawsuit is harassment. Arrest that weasel for being ugly out of season!” “The legislature did away with that one too,” said Sergeant Wayne. “Too many of us qualified.” “Let’s go down to the Deadly Stinger Tavern,” suggested Sergeant Green. “In a few hours this will all just be a blurred memory.” “Fine!” I agreed, giving the matter some serious thought. “Did I just lose it? Next time just tell me I’m losing it. I can handle it.”
“Yes, sir,” said Sergeant Green. “You have done the same for me. Don’t worry about that summons. Legionnaires and peacekeepers can’t be sued. Everyone knows that. It’s the law.”
* * * * *
On election day, a long column of freshly painted blue armored cars lined up at the main Scorpion City border checkpoint. I handed the spider duty officer in charge my clipboard of travel permits signed by the spider commander.
“Those blue armored cars are very pretty,” commented the spider duty officer, as he reviewed the paperwork. All was in order. “I see the holiday season is upon us once again.”
“Yes,” I said. “Happy Hanukkah.”
Returning my clipboard, the duty officer gave me a crisp salute and waved us through. “Happy Hanukkah!” he shouted, enthusiastically. “That blue rules!”
The column dispersed throughout the spider side of Scorpion Valley to preset GPS coordinates marking the polling stations. Spiders waved and yelled Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah as we drove by. Occasionally a sniper’s bullet pinged off the armor. Spiders rushed to the newly rebuilt Walgreens Super Store to buy Christmas lights and presents. Spiders are crazy about holidays. Any excuse to take a day off and celebrate is good enough for them, even if it is a silly human pestilence holiday nobody understands.
This time the election was fairly supervised by the Legion peacekeepers, with a vastly different result from the first election. The vote count reflected the true sentiment of the spider electorate. Of about a half million votes cast, Dragon King received 703,091 votes to Mountain Storm’s mere 318,102. It was a landslide victory for Dragon King, and a true test of the future of democracy and reform within the Arthropodan Empire. The Emperor quickly certified the election results.
Mission accomplished!
back to top
Chapter 14
“Congratulations on a peaceful outcome to the spider elections,” commented General Daly over the phone at next report. “Have you killed Mountain Storm yet?”
“He won’t come out of his spider hole,” I answered. “Captain Hawn assures me he can take out the whole hill, but it would destroy about a thousand condos, too. That would not be good.”
“I have received complaints you arrested the Grand Wizard of the Scorpion Elks. Is that true? I’m getting emails from Elks all over the galaxy. You would be surprised how many members of Congress are Elks.”
“I arrested an Exalted Ruler,” I replied. “He’s not even mid-level management.” “Let the Elk go,” ordered General Daly. “We finally get some good press about the election, and you go arrest the Grand Wizard!” “Exalted Ruler,” I corrected, again. “He conspired with terrorists to allow tunnels under the Elks Lodge.” “There is no law against digging tunnels,” insisted General Daly. “We are talking about bugs. Aren’t they all compulsive diggers? Spiders and scorpions are just like ants. They tunnel everywhere. It probably looks like a giant Swiss cheese under Scorpion City. Right?”
“Yes, sir.” “Then let him go,” repeated General Daly. “But he let Secret-Sting and other terrorists use the tunnel under the Lodge,” I argued. “The terrorists probably coerced him,” replied General Daly. “Unless you can prove otherwise, you let him go. That’s basic police work. Do you have any kind of confession?”
“I am not a cop!” I replied.
“You represent the USGF in your actions and your every move,” lectured General Daly. “Keep that in mind when you make arrests. Remember who you are every time you get drunk at the Deadly Stinger Tavern. You are supposed to set an example!”
General Daly disconnected. I went downstairs to the dungeon to talk the Grand Wizard, Exalted Ruler, whatever he was. “When am I going to be fed?” asked the Exalted Ruler. “Why do we keep forgetting to feed our prisoners?” I shouted. No one answered. We were alone. “You do not have a jailer,” complained the Exalted Ruler. “If you assigned someone to work your jail, the job would get done properly.”
“No one wants to work down here. The bats creep-out Sergeant Green. He says God sends bats to torment him. I think he’s just afraid of the dark.”
“When do I get released?” asked the Exalted Ruler.
“I have ordered that you be shot by a firing squad at dawn,” I replied. “You conspired with terrorists, and so I wash my hands of you for good.”
“But all I did was look the other way about the tunnel,” argued the Exalted Ruler. “What else could I do? They have guns.” “Where are Secret-Sting and Quick-Sting hiding?” I asked. “I cannot tell you that,” answered the Exalted Ruler. “I have the safety of my family to think about.” “Then you have no one to blame for your fate but yourself,” I said. “I have no sympathy for you. You have until dawn to change your mind and give them up.”
“I don’t know where they hide!”
“Until dawn!”
* * * * *
The cell wall blurred as a black-robed shadowy figure emerged and put his razor sharp scythe to the Exalted Ruler’s throat. He had been listening with great interest to the earlier conversation.
“I know Czerinski very well. I have followed him across the galaxy. He will kill you whether or not you talk. Your soul will soon be mine forever!”
“What are you?” asked the Exalted Ruler, terrified. “Help!”
“I am Thanatos, and you are not,” replied the Grim Reaper, pressing the scythe up against the scorpion’s chin. “Silence fool! Dawn and your death will come soon.” The Grim Reaper faded back into the dark of the dungeon walls.
“Help, help! Let me out of here! There is a monster down here! Let me out! I will talk! I will tell you everything! Secret-Sting has a secret tunnel passage near the Lodge! Please! Czerinski. Do not leave me alone down here! I will tell you everything!”
The Grim Reaper ran down the dungeon hallway laughing. At a door marked ‘Armory’ Thanatos effortlessly passed through solid iron. Inside, he found what he wanted. The Grim Reaper passed his white skeletal hand over the cold metallic surface of the twenty Arthropodan tactical nukes, savoring the touch of each. One nuke came to life with a beep. Its control panel glowed red. Instant understanding came to the Grim Reaper, and he smiled. He set the timer for twenty-four hours and pressed START.
* * * * *
Master Sergeant Green’s duties included checking the armory once at the end of every day. The room was dark as he peered in the small grilled window. A red light flickered off the walls from one of the bombs’ control panels. Sergeant Green unlocked the door to check closer. The panel was counting down! He pressed STOP, CLEAR, and LOCK. The red display went black.
“What the hell happened here?” asked Sergeant Green, to no one in particular. He checked the other nukes to make sure they were locked into SAFE mode. “This isn’t supposed to happen!”
Movement caught his eye from a dark corner. Sergeant Green quickly turned, his pistol drawn. It was a bat! “There is no one down here but me,” said Sergeant Green to himself. “There can’t be. Just bats. I hate bats!”
“I have finally found you legionnaire!” shouted the Grim Reaper, laughing from far off down the hallways of the dungeon. “I will have your souls!”
Sergeant Green locked the armory door and ran. He would review the surveillance camera recordings later. “This time I will trap and kill you,” promised Sergeant Green.
* * * * *
Sergeant Green forced me to review the surveillance camera recordings for the dungeon tunnels. The man was seeing ghosts again. It was noted in Green’s medical file that he sometimes hallucinated. I had covered for him before, and I would cover for my friend again. He would do the same for me. There was nothing on the video recordings. The camera images seemed out of focus at times, but the lighting is poor down there. After all, it is a dungeon. I put guards on the armory door because Sergeant Green was convinced someone had tampered with one of the nukes. He was paranoid – but so was I.
The scorpion Exalted Ruler Elk seemed very happy to see us. I forgot his dinner last night, but I brought him breakfast. After all his complaining, the Exalted Ruler was not even hungry. He just wanted out, and was willing to lead me to Secret-Sting’s hideout. I mobilized the entire battalion for deployment to the Elks Lodge, where we would go back into the tunnels to flush out terrorists.
The Exalted Ruler showed us various exit points and escape routes. Legionnaires covered the exits, then pumped toxic gases down the tunnels. No one came out. I ordered the fire department to flood the tunnels. Still nothing. Later, we went down to see for ourselves. Some things you just have to do in person. We found arms, supplies, and a freshly dug tunnel leading to the surface. The scorpion terrorists had escaped. Again.
* * * * *
Captain Hawn of the USGF SSupport Cruiser P. Paulson called to report spider insurgent activity observed atop Mountain Storm’s hill. “It is the damnedest thing I have ever seen,” explained Captain Hawn. “The Spiders are pouring out of their bunker entrance like a smoked-out anthill. Insurgents are scurrying about the condos in confusion like they are trying to get away from something. Maybe something in their tunnels spooked them? A cave-in, maybe?”