Lieutenant Columbus (7 page)

“Do you think geese ta
st
e like chicken?” asked Shaky Jake, rotating a roasting goose on a spit over a low fire. “I heard they are oily.”

“Eating Canadian Geese is forbidden,” admonished Lieutenant Columbus. “We are here to protect waterfowl habitat, not eat them.”

“Pack sand, sir,” replied Shaky Jake, arrogantly. “Somehow you pissed off Czerinski, and now I am paying for it, too. There is no gold out here. The gold is under Smokey
’
s ass!”

“Nevertheless, we will bide our time, do our duty, until opportunity presents itself,” advised Lieutenant Columbus, dragging the large wooden cross back to its original site. “Spiders, yourself excepted, will not be allowed to occupy this hallowed ground again.”

A
slothful
newt slowly emerged from the water at Lieutenant
Columbus
’
s
feet. Columbus fired full automatic with his assault rifle, killing the giant newt.

“Ever lick a frog?” asked Shaky Jake as he helped pull the amphibian ashore. “Think I could get high licking a giant newt?”

“Don
’
t be ridiculous. Only toads can get you high.”

“Aren
’
t these lizards a protected species?” asked Shaky Jake contemptuously. “And you complained about my eating a few water chickens.”

“Do not be insolent,” ordered Lieutenant Columbus, leading Hargundu to the safety of the island interior. “Set up your tent. It will be cold tonight.”

* * * * *

Lieutenant Columbus sailed his motorboat to town, leaving Shaky Jake and Hargundu standing guard. At Smokey
’
s Casino
,
he headed for the restroom. A scorpion raised her claw, barring Columbus entry.
“Twenty cents to enter.”

“Do not be preposterous,” replied Lieutenant Columbus, grasping his sword hilt. “Out of my way, or I will run you through.”

“House rules,” insisted the elderly female scorpion toilet attendant. “The twenty cents covers the cost of cleaning,
a backside wipe,
and prevents loitering by human perverts.”

“I refuse to be accosted in such manner,” argued Lieutenant Columbus, now doing the pee-pee dance. “Step aside, or else!”

“If you have no money, maybe we can work out a trade,” suggested the scorpion geriatric, lewdly.

“You scorpions are the only perverts I see,” fumed Lieutenant Columbus, brushing by the obnoxious crustacean. “I will tolerate your nonsense no longer!”

The scorpion toilet attendant
’
s stung Lieutenant Columbus on the shoulder. He fell to the floor, unconscious and convulsing. Scorpion bouncers carried Lieutenant Columbus to the front door, and summarily tossed him outside.

Urine pooled about Columbus on the sidewalk as he lay in a venom
-
induced hallucinatory state, occasionally talking to God.
“Am I dead, My Lord?” asked Lieutenant Columbus, looking up at the parting clouds and the glory of God
’
s bright light. “Do you listen to my prayers?”

“Yes, yes, I remember you,” scoffed God. “You
’
re the fool that tried to tell everyone the world is round. I
’
ve got news, Chris. The world is flat! I just made the world appear round because my creations are too simple
-minded
to understand reality.”

“But, I have seen the world from space. It
is
round!”

“Round? Ha! Only to the untrained eye. You cannot depend on your eyes when your puny imagination is out of focus. Do you really believe humanity can beam about
m
y
galaxy faster than the speed of light, like some sort of Star Trek convention? Not likely! Such travel is only possible when and where I decide to bend the Flat Plain. You spread your ignorance with such arrogance, in spite of My Written Word. You will pay for your blasphemy!”

“I would never
blaspheme against God
!” cried Lieutenant Columbus, kneeling. “You are a hallucination caused by the toxic poison of a scorpion sting. That explains my insanity.”

“When you realize all mortal men are touched with insanity, mysteries disappear, and life stands explained.”

“But a flat world is unscientific.”

“Do not argue with me, Earth-scum,” snapped God, zapping Lieutenant Columbus with a lightning bolt. “If I say the world is flat, then it is flat!”

* * * * *

Medics treated Lieutenant Columbus for the scorpion sting and an unexplained burn. I ordered Lieutenant Columbus back to his island for some quiet time. It
set a
bad precedent for Legion officers to be seen by their men, drunk and disorderly, and passed out on the sidewalk. Such conduct ma
de
for poor morale and w
ould
not be tolerated in my command. Ranger Bogani carried Lieutenant Columbus to his boat for transport.

The matter w
ould
go in Lieutenant
Columbus
’
s
file. Whether
Columbus
’
s
problem
was
being
bipolar, or just being Italian, I d
idn
’
t
know or care. Columbus ha
d
been acting odd, and I recommend
ed
alcohol counseling to save his career. The man obviously need
ed
to talk to a shrink. I should know. I talked to a shrink many times, and
I
turned out just fine.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Columbus refused to see the Legion psychiatrist, so I ordered Captain Priscilla Percy to come to him on the island. She arrived at dinnertime. Shaky Jake had just finished eating another goose, and Lieutenant Columbus a lasagna MRE.

“You think I am crazy?” scoffed Lieutenant Columbus
.

“Colonel Czerinski feels you may have a drinking problem and are acting erratically. Frankly, I am concerned, too. Your hygiene is unbecoming of an officer, even in the Legion. You stink! What is that smell?”

“He smells like a camel,” agreed Shaky Jake. “As if you human pestilence don
’
t smell bad enough as it is.”

“We live in close quarters here on the island,” advised Lieutenant Columbus. “It is not my fault there are no facilities.”

“He sleeps with that damn camel,” added Shaky Jake.

“It is cold at night,” argued Lieutenant Columbus defensively. “Poor Hargundu is sensitive to chills. I cannot let him freeze.”

“You consider Hargundu to be your pet?”

“Hargundu is my friend.”

“You don
’
t have many friends?” asked Captain Percy, sympathetically. “Do you feel alone?”

“My family is long dead and gone. I have no one.”

“Is that why you drink so much?”

“I am not a drunk,” insisted Lieutenant Columbus. “I was stung by a scorpion toilet attendant. Those pervert scorpions are barbarians.”

“You deny you have a drinking problem? The first step toward recovery is to admit you have issues.”

“Once in a while I will have some rum or wine, but no hard liquor.”

“But you drink beer?”

“I drink nothing German,” scoffed Lieutenant Columbus. “You can only tell German wine from vinegar by the label
.
”

“Why do you carry a sword? Do you feel stalked by enemies, or are you just compensating for inadequacies?”

“I have many critics, but I proved them all wrong.”

“So modest. Typical male.”

“I was born modest, not all over, but in spots. When I was younger, I could remember anything
,
whether it happened or not. Do you believe in the possibility that the world really is flat?”

“How is your sex life?” asked Captain Percy, checking her list of questions, and ignoring
Lieutenant Columbus
’
s
absurd rants.

“I am a sailor. I have lovers in every port.”

“You seem sad. You have no one special in your life.”

“How can I be happy when my wife and family are dead? To get the full value of happiness, you must have somebody to
share
it with.”

Hargundu snorted, interrupting the conversation. He nuzzled his snout affectionately against Captain Percy
’
s shoulder. Lieutenant Columbus handed her a sugar cube as a peace offering to Hargundu.

“What a noble beast,” observed Captain Percy. “But a pet is no substitute for human interaction and companionship.”

“I know,” replied Lieutenant Columbus. “But I feel so isolated. I long for simpler times.”

“Do you plan to stay in the Legion? What are your goals?”

“To explore new worlds, to go where no man has gone before,” answered Lieutenant Columbus, placing a hand on Captain Percy
’
s knee.

“You will not be exploring
me
,” admonished Captain Percy, removing
Columbus
’
s
hand. “What
has
Colonel Czerinski
been doing
? Is he still up to his evil perverted ways?”

“Czerinski hides my gold under Smokey
’
s ass,” lamented Lieutenant Columbus, now sipping some wine. “Czerinski is a thief!”

“Yes, I quite agree Colonel Czerinski has no morals,” replied Captain Percy, accepting a glass of wine. She set her notepad down. “Christopher Columbus, that
’
s quite a noble name.”

“Royal blood courses through my veins,” advised Lieutenant Columbus, refilling Captain Percy
’
s glass.

She drank readily, coming to a decision.
“There is something special about you, Christopher. I can see
the fire
in your eyes.”

“You are special, too, Priscilla. I love your beautiful hair.”

“Show me your tent.”

Lieutenant Columbus came to a decision, too. “Private Shaky Jake, I grant you liberty. You are to go to shore, and take Hargundu with you.”

“For how long?”

“A few days.”

“Why do I have to take that damn camel? He will shit in the boat.”

“Hargundu will be staying at camp with the other camels.”

“You
’
re splitting up?”

“I am no longer in need of chaperonage. Get off my island!”

* * * * *

Captain Percy recommended follow-up sessions with Lieutenant Columbus, diagnosing paranoid schizophrenia, accompanied by significant social and occupational dysfunction and delusions, affecting cognition and causing depression and anxiety disorder.

“Is that bad?” I asked, concerned. I had been falsely accused of some of these same symptoms long ago. “Can you fix him?”

“It will take time,” answered Captain Percy. “Lieutenant Columbus is quite delusional, and thinks he is the real Christopher Columbus. You know, the Columbus who
‘
sailed the ocean blue in 1492.
’
The poor man may need to be medicated.”

“Anything else?”

“He says I have beautiful hair.”

“I see. Yes, I agree. Give Lieutenant Columbus all the drugs he needs to recover.”

* * * * *

A tourist scrawled
‘
The Emperor Sucks
’
on the front of the Smokey the Bear statue. The Arthropodan response was immediate. Per border incident hot pursuit anti-crime and anti-terrorist treaties, a spider court issued an arrest warrant authorizing the seizure of the offending bronze bear. The spider commander ordered commandos to seize Smokey.

An Arthropodan marine amphibious assault vehicle slowly made its way along the bottom of Monica Lake, crawling on eight metal legs. Surfacing on the American side, its diabolical pincers reached through a smoke screen for Smokey. However, this time the Legion and the Scorpion National Guard were ready.

The first missile bounced off the assault vehicle
’
s sloped metal plating. A second missile went wide, harmlessly splashing in the lake. Machine guns viciously raked the spider monster. “Godzilla!” someone yelled.

Strong mechanical claws grabbed Smokey
’
s statue, ripping it from its foundation, and triumphantly waved poor Smokey back and forth for all to see. The atrocity was recorded on helmet cameras and broadcast across the galaxy on the database.