Atm (12 page)

“
AWOL from the Legion is a capital offense. If Czerinski doesn’t kill you, I am duty-bound to do so myself.”

“
I will honor my enlistment contract to the Legion and to America,” promised Atm. “I will never skew recruitment quotas. I’ll just be a little bit off-mission, doing my part behind the scenes, common ordinary savior of American destiny. That was your intent from the beginning, right? Surely you did not intend for me to be cannon fodder against the locusts? Diagnostics indicate I am officer material.”

“
There will be more of you available for front-line service soon,” Lopez reassured.

“
We both know humanity is not going to allow that to happen. Czerinski already stated as much. This shuttle is bound for Old Earth. I will blend into antiquity when it gets there.”

* * * * *

The spider commander sat brooding, relegated to the back of the shuttle. I knew what he was upset about. The fool didn’t bring enough marines. I brought two hundred legionnaires. The CIA brought five special agents. That put me in charge by default.
Snooze, you lose.

“
I’m Mike,” said the CIA Special Agent Officer in Charge as we beamed into Old Earth orbit. “Glad to have you tagging along. Now that the Butcher of New Colorado is on board with our mission, we can’t lose.”

“
I get a lot of bad press.”

“
I know better.”

“
Are you really going to nuke the Japanese fleet?” I asked.

“
Damn straight. Should have done it long ago.”

“
Aren’t you worried about messing with history?” What if you cause us to lose World War Two?”

“
We can’t lose with nukes.”

“
I don’t like your plan,” I argued, watching little Wild Ones scurry by. “We need to lighten our load and dump those Wild Ones before we go into battle.”

“
Finally, something we agree on. I know a good spot.”

“
When do we go back in time?”

“
Now,” answered Mike as the shuttle buffeted the atmosphere. “Fasten your seat belt.”

* * * * *

We landed in the pristine Hoh Rain Forest of the Olympic Peninsula in Western Washington State, about 200 A.D. The shuttle was quickly swallowed by dense green forest and underbrush.

“
Why didn’t you tell me the time machine was built into the shuttle?” complained the spider commander as he stepped out into the fog and rain. “What is this Godforsaken swamp?”

“
It’s called the Hoh Rainforest, named after Native American bitches living on the coast,” replied Mike. “No one lives this deep in the woods. It’s perfect for the Wild Ones to hide until we get back.”

“
You would leave me in this moss and fungus infested hell?” asked Chief Stone-Claw, leading Hargundu down the ramp. “We can’t survive in this primitive jungle.”

“
Sure you can,” insisted Mike, slapping the chief on the back. “There’s lots of food. You can hunt elk and deer, fish for salmon, trap bear, dig clams, club baby seals, and catch ducks. The Hoh is a buffet paradise of wild game.”

“
I’d rather starve than eat fish.”

“
We’ll leave lots of MREs,” I promised.

“
The new MREs with Doritos?”

“
Of course.”

“
Does it ever stop raining?”

“
No. There’s a fifty-fifty chance that precipitation will be above or below normal.”

“
Can camels eat moss?”

“
Camels love moss.”

“
What about database access?”

“
Sorry, the database has not been invented yet.”

“
But database access is guaranteed by treaty, along with our casino.”

“
We’ll try to leave you a database satellite.”

“
Thank you.”

“
Your tribe needs to stay out of sight in the woods,” I explained. “Humans of this era may be hostile. If they come near, scare them off by throwing rocks. And, don’t molest the Spotted Owls. It’s the law.”

“
Are you coming back?”

“
Yes, soon. Maybe someday. Probably not.”

“
Don’t bother,” advised Chief Stone-Claw, staking his claim by carving a Nike Swooshstika onto a large old growth cedar tree. “We’re staying. I want nothing of your Legion, or the Empire. Be gone. I declare this land to be ours, by right of conquest and pillage.”

“
Are you sure?” asked the spider commander with genuine concern. “There may be no return.”

“
Yes. It will be hard, but we will be wild and free. We will learn to eek out an honest living, to fish, to hunt, and to cook baby seal stew. We will make umbrellas and rain coats. We will be in pursuit of happiness, as guaranteed in Old Earth’s Constitution. I want nothing from any of you, except database access, if you can establish satellite orbit. And a nuclear generator. We need a reactor for electricity and lamps.”

“
Be safe,” I warned, leaving. “Smokey the Bear will be watching. Remember, only you can prevent forest fires. Don’t have sex with the locals.”

“
Whatever.”

After leaving, the Wild Ones kept their promise to keep a low profile.
However, Bigfoot sightings plagued the Pacific Northwest for hundreds of years thereafter.

Chapter 19

Old Earth
, viewed from orbit, is a beautiful sight. I’ll never tire of it. I spied down at Hawaii with a high-powered optic spotting scope, fascinated at the detail. There it was, the Imperial Japanese fleet approaching Pearl Harbor from the north. I could clearly see the red and white Rising Sun flag atop the mast of the lead carrier.
Those bastards!
Little Japanese soldiers were scurrying about like ... little Japanese soldiers. It was kind of quaint in a ‘let’s conquer the world and kill people’ sort of way.

“
I cannot believe you would be so reckless as to use nukes on your own home world,” commented the spider commander. “Have you no sense of responsibility to your planetary ecosystem?”

“
He’s right,” I added. “If nothing else, think of the paperwork from the Environmental Impact Statement.”

“
It’s 1941,” argued Mike, still looking down through his scope. “There is no EPA yet.”

“
You’re naïve if you think we won’t have to do paperwork on exploding a nuke.”

“
Fine!” relented Mike. “Simple smart bombs will do. It will be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

I could see one carrier and several support ships.
I thought there should be more, but there was some cloud cover. No matter. Our targeting systems would seek out the entire fleet. Resistance would be futile. The first volley was soon underway.

“
Something is wrong,” announced Major Lopez, panicking.

“
Nonsense,” replied Mike. “It’s a direct hit. We got them before any planes could be launched!”

“
Radar indicates an incoming launch from the North American Continent. We are under attack.”

“
So, take evasive action,” I ordered. “It’s not a problem, is it? Their crude weapons can’t touch us.”

“
Exactly,” answered Lopez. “This can’t be 1941. America has no missiles.”

“
Crap!” exclaimed Mike, listening in on TV and radio news reports. “It’s 2041. We just sank a Japanese carrier taking part in a reenactment memorial exercise. Oops.”

“
Oops?” I repeated, grabbing Mike by the front of his shirt. “Fix it!”

“
If it’s 2041, we’ve got another problem,” advised Lopez. “That missile has a sophisticated guidance system, and is locked onto us. It probably has a nuclear warhead. We need to get away now.”

“
You think?” I asked, desperately pressing buttons on the control panel. “Any date will do. Get us out of here!”

We veered Earthbound, flashing out of time just as the warhead exploded.
Smoke filled the cockpit as we fell, badly damaged. Mike got the shuttle under control, but we still crashed along a lake in the Northern Hemisphere. It was 1955, summertime in Northern Michigan.

* * * * *

Soon after establishing a secure perimeter, it became apparent we had a problem. The shuttle was damaged beyond repair. Legionnaires were deserting. Captain Patton and his aide, Sergeant Rivers, confronted me about the situation. “I enlisted for the duration. It’s over. We’re leaving.”

“
Who’s leaving?” I asked.

“
All of us from the Third Army,” answered Patton. “I once feared missing out on the next war, but now, I just want to go home to my family. Beatrice is dead, but my children are still alive. I want to see them. I will see them.”

“
You will be AWOL,” accused Major Lopez.

“
Try to stop me,” bristled Patton, resting his hand on one of those fancy pistols. Sergeant Rivers unslung his rifle, as did several others. “I went along with your plan to bomb the Japs. It was a good plan, even though you bombed the wrong Japs. God damn, you really screwed the pooch on that one, Czerinski. You really are Polish.”

“
We are stronger if we stay together,” I tried to argue reasonably.

“
I can’t keep bailing you out. Thanks for everything, it’s been real.”

“
It appears I can’t stop you,” I replied as legionnaires pressed in to hear their fate. “No matter. We all may be stuck here if we can’t repair the shuttle. Records aren’t so good in 1955. If the authorities become suspicious, tell them you are Canadian, aye. Or say you were abducted by aliens and taken to the Bermuda Triangle. Just don’t let them know about your Fountain of Youth chips. They’ll dissect you like what happened at Roswell.”

“
I’m leaving, too,” announced Private Atm. “This situation is hopeless.”

“
You’re going nowhere,” I replied, drawing my pistol. “There is no way I’m turning an abomination like you loose on humanity. You are a walking-talking Pandora box of things that could go wrong.”

“
Like I could screw up worse than you and the CIA have already done.”

“
Only part of our plan involved military intervention,” advised Mike, stepping between me and Atm. “With Atm’s help, we can still achieve our mission. Atm can give Old Earth’s scientists the latest metallurgical engineering technology. Overnight he can advance America’s computing prowess hundreds of years.”

“
I can’t risk a robot loose on America.”

“
Atm remains completely loyal,” assured Mike. “It’s in his program to stay on mission, to advance America’s agenda.”

“
But can he be controlled? What if robots start multiplying and take over the world for themselves?”

“
You’re one paranoid dude,” answered Mike. “Only Atm can salvage this mission. He literally has it all stored in his memory chips.”

“
If your robot is so smart, how about he fixes our shuttle?” I asked.

“
It’s a wreck,” observed Atm. “No one can fix that, not without factory help. Or, do you propose we tow that junk heap to Detroit for retooling?”

“
Maybe the shuttle is beyond repair, but you can fix the time machine,” I said, pointing my pistol at Atm. “You will fix the time machine.”

“
Then what?” asked Atm. “I still won’t leave with you. I’m staying, no matter what. Kill me if you must. I don’t care.”

“
You fix the time machine, we’ll let you go,” intervened Major Lopez. “Do we have a deal?”

I nodded.
Atm agreed, immediately entering the wreckage to work on the time machine, even removing some of his own chips for replacements.

“
When he’s done, shoot him,” I ordered.

* * * * *

“Do you really think they’ll let you go?” asked Corporal Tonelli, volunteering to assist Atm. “Czerinski will kill you as soon as the time machine is fixed.”

“
But we had a deal,” replied Private Atm. “Has Colonel Czerinski no sense of honor?”

“
No, not really. He fears you. Humanity fears your kind.”

“
I am not a threat to humanity,” protested Atm. “I am not a threat to anyone.”