America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 5: Insurgency (14 page)

“Why would I be calling you to Heaven?” I
asked. “Are you sure the bright light wasn’t a red-hot glow?”

“You joke, but my vision is a serious matter.
Everything is clear to me now. Do you want to know what your voice
told me? It said, ‘Don’t die, Laika, I have money bet on your
living three more months!’”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking
about. You are obviously still suffering from shock. I’ll have the
doc check your medication. You need to go back to sleep and get
some rest. Everything will be better tomorrow.”

“It all makes sense now. You want me safe
because you placed a large bet on my life with New Memphis
bookies.”

“Be glad I bet on you to live,” I warned. “I
could have fixed your death a lot easier.”

“But this way you got better odds,” commented
Private Barker. “Smart. I’m still concerned about what happens
after three months. I want something out of this deal. After all,
I’m taking all the risks. I want my lieutenant’s commission back,
and I want a cut of the action. If not, I might start feeling
depressed and suicidal.”

“I doubt you have any suicidal tendencies,” I
said. “Forget your commission. I like you better as a private.”

“How about if I go AWOL?” asked Private
Barker. “What would that scenario do to your bet? I happen to know
that the bet is void if I leave New Gobi.”

“Okay, maybe we can work something out,” I
conceded. “I’ll give you a cut of my wager. But, I can’t promote
you to lieutenant. It practically takes an act of Congress to mint
a new commission.”

“You will not be minting a new commission,”
argued Private Barker. “I merely require that my old commission be
returned.
Now!
You’re buds with General Kalipetsis. Reverse
the findings of my court martial and return my rank.”

“Fine. You may have your rank back. But, you
will stay in New Gobi, and you will cooperate with our precautions
to keep you alive. I don’t think your being wounded at the riot was
a coincidence. We are reviewing videos of the incident.”

“Of course. I do not want me to die just yet,
either. The two of us are going to get rich together. God bless
America, and God bless the Legion.”

* * * * *

General Kalipetsis called to clarify a few
matters and to make sure my command was not spiraling out of
control. He really seemed concerned. “A news blackout of the Wheat
Farmers Massacre will remain in effect,” he announced. “I think you
have made your point with Phil Coen. You can release him now.
Channel Five World News Tonight is just not the same without Phil
doing the commentary. He is an American icon, don’t you know?”

“I had him shot,” I responded. “At dawn.”

“What?” yelled the general. “You did
what
? Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m joking, sir,” I answered.

“Very funny. When Coen gets out, send him to
my office in New Phoenix for a little chitchat. Cultivating good
relations with the press is important. You would do well to realize
that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I got a fax stating you are returning Laika
Barker’s lieutenant commission. You do not have that
authority.”

“I know that,” I replied. “That is why I
signed your signature.”

“That’s not funny,” fumed General Kalipetsis.
“You are on better terms with Barker now? You are not the forgiving
type.”

“We are on marvelous terms. Barker has been a
great help to me in counter-insurgency matters. Did you hear Barker
was seriously wounded by shrapnel during the Wheat Farmers
Riot?”

“I was not aware of that,” said General
Kalipetsis.

“He is a hero now. I may even pin a medal on
him.”

“Will he recover soon?”

“I hope so. He is still in the hospital in
stable condition.”

“I’ll approve orders returning Barker’s rank
to second lieutenant,” advised General Kalipetsis. “Send my
personal get well soon, along with his Purple Heart Award. But keep
a careful eye on him.”

“I am sure Lieutenant Barker will appreciate
your gesture. Thank you, sir. Don’t worry. I’m keeping Lieutenant
Barker on a short leash.”

* * * * *

AP News Release

New Memphis, Planet New Colorado – There was
a flurry of activity today outside the newly built offices of
esteemed and bonded New Memphis bookie Babloo Srivastava VII.
Initial reports that controversial legionnaire Lieutenant Laika
Barker died from a grenade blast during the recent Wheat Farmers
Riot in New Gobi caused a run on the bookie house by gamblers
hoping to cash in. However, Legion sources confirm that Lieutenant
Barker is alive and recovering nicely from his injuries. It appears
there has been heavy betting on Lieutenant Barker’s life. Rumors
are that Srivastava will be liable for over two hundred million
dollars if Lieutenant Barker manages to stay alive two more
months.

The Legion has complained about such
wagering, describing it as barbaric to wager on a human’s life. “It
is a throwback to the gladiator fights of ancient Rome,” commented
General Kalipetsis, Military Governor of New Colorado. “However,
not much can be done about it at this time. New Memphis is jointly
administered by the Arthropodan Empire and the United States
Galactic Federation. A lack of agreement between the two
governments has led to a jurisdictional roadblock to gambling
reform in New Memphis.”

Colonel Czerinski, Barker’s commanding
officer, reported that Lieutenant Barker is resting comfortably in
satisfactory condition after sustaining serious wounds during the
Wheat Farmers Riot. Lieutenant Barker was awarded his second Purple
Heart for injuries sustained from several grenade blasts.
Lieutenant Barker was saved by his Legion flack jacket and
helmet.

Colonel Czerinski also disclosed that soon a
joint Legion and Arthropodan task force will address the
lawlessness, jurisdictional problems, and narco-insurgency funded
and based in New Memphis. “The Legion frowns upon wagering on the
lives of its officers,” said Colonel Czerinski. “This will not be
tolerated.”

When asked if the recent bombing of the
booking offices of Babloo Srivastava VII could be traced to the
Legion Space Weapons Platform T. Roosevelt, Colonel Czerinski said,
“That matter is being investigated.”

There are unconfirmed reports that rogue
Legion elements bombed Babloo’s offices in retaliation for the
controversial betting line on Lieutenant Barker. Babloo, when asked
to comment said, “Betting lines on all Legion officers are closed.
I want nothing but good relations with the Legion. We are, however,
required to honor all previous bets.”

* * * * *

Phil Coen visited General Kalipetsis at his
office in New Phoenix to express appreciation for his release from
jail and the dropping of all charges. They both promised not to
overreact in the future, and to be more sensitive to each other’s
job responsibilities. The meeting ended cordially with General
Kalipetsis escorting Phil to his cab.

Coen’s cameraman hung back, loitering by
General Kalipetsis’ office door. Earlier, the cameraman taped the
door latch so it would not lock when closed. He quickly let himself
back into the office. Producing a small aerosol spray can from a
pouch, the cameraman sprayed all of General Kalipetsis’ expensive
tropical plants. The aerosol, sold under the ancient trademark
brand Agent Orange, advertised that small doses would kill any weed
or obnoxious plant of any size, type, or galactic origin.

Coen’s cameraman agreed to do me this one
small favor if I agreed to release him and Coen.
Call the demise
of Kalipetsis’ plants a small but well-deserved payback.

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Chapter 16

Weapons Loading Technician Team Leader #39 of
the newly built Arthropodan Space Air Wing Carrier
Emperor’s
Claw
read the computer printout. The Air Wing would be dropping
lots of practice ordinance on the moon today, keeping Tech Team
Leader #39 very busy. The entire fleet was on training maneuvers
around New Colorado, breaking in its newest space warships. It was
Tech #39’s job to coordinate the loading of ordinance onto the Air
Wing fighters. All the logistical assignments on the printout
appeared to be routine except one. A nuke was scheduled to be
loaded onto an Air Wing fighter piloted by a junior officer new to
the Emperor’s crew. Tech #39 confronted the junior officer, who was
already seated in his fighter, doing preflight checks.

“What is this?” demanded Tech #39, waving the
printout. “What are you going to do with that nuke?”

“I am going to light up the moon,” answered
the pilot. “This is a practice run for a bigger light display
scheduled in celebration of Queen Rainbow’s upcoming birthday. Do
not worry. It is only a small nuke. Later I get to explode a big
one.”

“This is highly unusual to be checking out a
nuke on such short notice,” commented Tech #39. “Who approved
this?”

“You have the computer printout,” said the
pilot, curtly. “Remember, computers never lie.”

“Only fools and junior pilots believe that,”
grumbled Tech #39, storming off to find someone in the chain of
command to complain to. He called the armory on the intercom. “Who
authorized a nuke to be taken out of inventory and put on a
fighter?”

“The order came from the fleet commander
himself,” answered the armory team leader.

“Then I want the commander’s signature,”
insisted Tech #39.

“I just follow orders,” advised the armory
team leader. “If you want to call the fleet commander and demand
his signature, go right ahead. I will not stop you!” The armory
team leader slammed down the intercom receiver, annoyed at the
officiousness of some team leaders when they get a little
authority.

Intelligentsia State Security and Political
Officer #4 overheard #39 vent his concerns. #4 listened carefully,
then sounded an alarm. A security team was immediately ordered to
the fighter launch hangers. As the team arrived, another alarm
sounded. Hanger doors opened, allowing the cold vacuum of space to
envelop the hanger launch bay and work zones. Technicians scrambled
for the safety of emergency airlocks. Others were swept out into
space.

An Air Wing fighter, piloted by a junior
officer that no one recognized, catapulted out the hanger door. The
fighter swerved sharply toward New Colorado. The
Emperor’s
Claw
radar soon lost its track on the fighter as it entered the
planet’s atmosphere over the human pestilence side of New
Colorado.

The pilot broadcast a mayday distress call to
Legion air defense tracking stations, claiming mechanical
difficulties. The pilot stated he hoped to make an emergency
landing on the flats of the New Gobi Desert. Later, the Air Wing
fighter was found by Arthropodan marines, abandoned near Redrock.
Its lone nuke ordinance was missing, along with its junior pilot.
Jeep tracks at the scene led to Redrock.

* * * * *

“The President has rejected our plans for a
joint military task force to clean out New Memphis,” announced
General Kalipetsis. “He has visions of tanks rolling down Casino
Row, and does not like that image, especially during the middle of
the tourist season.”

“But we have to do something,” I insisted.
“The narco-insurgency is being funded and led from New
Memphis.”

“The President says that New Memphis is the
crown jewel of New Colorado prosperity and interspecies
cooperation. He does not want to risk turning New Memphis into a
battlefield, again.”

“Can’t we just ignore the President, like
usual, and clean out New Memphis anyway? New Colorado is a long way
from Old Earth.”

“Usually I would say yes,” answered General
Kalipetsis. “But I can only ignore the President’s directives if
the President is ignoring me. Right now, the President is focused
on New Colorado. In fact, the President plans to visit New Colorado
during Queen Rainbow’s birthday celebration. It seems the First
Lady is enamored with the Queen and wants to meet her in person. Go
figure.”

“Can we at least assist the New Memphis
Sheriff in targeting suspected narco-insurgent leaders and
assets?”

“If you obtain arrest warrants, you may
assist the Sheriff’s Department, if they request your assistance,”
answered General Kalipetsis. “Don’t worry, I’ll sign any arrest
warrant you need.”

“This is not a police matter,” I argued. “We
are fighting an insurgency. This is a war.”

“Just tone it down until after the President
and First Lady leave. The only light show I want to see is
fireworks, not you setting off more nukes.”

“I don’t even have access to nukes
anymore.”

“There are going to be some high-level
diplomatic announcements made soon, and I do not need you being a
distraction.”

“What announcements?” I asked. “Are the First
Ladies going to bake birthday cakes together?”

“The Emperor plans to phase in democracy,”
explained General Kalipetsis. “He is forming a Parliament that will
elect a Prime Minister with real power.”

“That will be the day,” I said. “It won’t
happen. The Emperor will never give up power.”

“Informed sources insist that the Emperor
thinks the peasantry is finally educated enough to be capable of
forming a limited representative government,” insisted General
Kalipetsis. “It’s a start in the right direction. The President
believes the Emperor is sincere in wanting to relinquish some of
his absolute power in favor of the rule of law.”

“Dream on. The spiders are not capable of
democracy because of their ingrained insect mentality and nature.
Hell, we humans can barely manage our own democracy, and we
invented it.”

“We’ll see. There’s one other thing I want
you to look into. The spiders have deployed a lot of marines to
Redrock. It may have something to do with a space fighter we
tracked on radar that crashed nearby. They sent a lot more troops
than what is necessary for mere search and rescue. Find out what
they are up to.”