Embassy War (6 page)

* * * * *

Ambassador James Yamashita and his staff received an invitation to the Scorpion Embassy to celebrate the Thanksgiving Day holiday. The gracious invitation was much appreciated during repairs at the American Embassy. The banquet was a formal black-tie affair. Yamashita’s wife Lulu was dressed to kill in heels and low-cut dress.
Very hot.
I joined in the festivities, escorted by a Legion honor guard.

Before dining, we accepted an invitation by the scorpion ambassador for a swim.
This is odd,
I thought, but apparently swimming before meals was some sort of scorpion tradition.
Hey, what do I care? The food is free.
I gazed at the Olympic-sized pool. It was full of fish.

“What’s this?” I asked. The fish were following me as I walked along the side of the pool. “I’m not going in there.”

“They are eel fish,” explained the scorpion ambassador, gesturing for me to hang my tux up on a hook. Scorpions were already stripping naked, preparing to jump in. “The eels will clean your body like it has never been cleaned before.”

“No way,” I argued. The fish were in a frenzied state now. Some were even jumping out of the water. “I’m not going in there.” “Do not worry,” advised the scorpion ambassador. “Eel fish are harmless. They clean our exoskeletons to a shine.” “Eel fish?” I asked. “They look like piranha. Are you sure it’s safe?” “Eel fish have no teeth. I guarantee the cleaning will be the most refreshing experience of your life.” “I’m not taking off my clothes,” protested Lulu. “The water will mess up my make-up.” “Don’t be such a prude,” scoffed Ambassador Yamashita, already naked and strutting alongside the scorpion dignitaries. “Dear, I expect you to fully participate in diplomatic functions. We talked about this before.”

“I want a swimsuit,” insisted Lulu, balking.

“I want a swimsuit, too,” I advised. “What if those fish mistake my ... you know ... for a tasty worm? This could get nasty.”

“For a legionnaire, you aren’t very adventurous,” admonished Ambassador Yamashita. “I order you to take the plunge. You too, Lulu.”

“You order me?” asked Lulu, more agitated. “We will see about that!”

Ambassador Yamashita made a big production of doing a cannon ball splash as he joined the scorpions in the water. I watched intently. So far, so good. The eels had not yet castrated Yamashita. Private Wayne dived in next. The eels swarmed around Wayne, still to no ill affect. Apparently eels did not harm spiders, either.

“Come on in!” shouted Yamashita. “The sensation in marvelous. You will love it!”

“We are going to give this a try,” I ordered other legionnaires, putting my big toe cautiously into the water. Eels nibbled at it. It tickled a bit. Still doubtful, already having one artificial toe and an artificial hand, and did want to lose more appendages or digits.

“I can’t swim,” advised Sergeant Green. “Hell will freeze over before you get me in that fish tank.”

“You are such a wuss,” I taunted, waiting for Corporal Tonelli to jump. Guido decided to take the steps in the shallow end, slowly wading in.

“It’s not so bad,” advised Guido. “The water is warm.”

Someone pushed me from behind, and I fell in, fully clothed. I looked up to see a black-clad spider Intelligentsia officer waving down at me. “I’ll kill you if it’s the last thing I do!” I shouted.

The eel fish swarmed. It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was embarrassingly great, in an erotic sort of way.

“I guess I’ll go in,” pouted Lulu, observing that both her husband and I seemed to be enjoying ourselves. “I suppose I’m safe, at least from the fish.”

Lulu jumped in, followed by the spider intelligentsia officer. The spider swam over to me. “What was that you said?” he asked. “Did you threaten me, human pestilence?”

“Never mind,” I answered, doing a backstroke. The eels were going crazy. They seemed to carry me along. “You have done this before?”

“Several times,” replied the spider Intelligentsia officer. “I normally do not like to socialize with scorpions, but their swims make socializing with the beasts most tolerable for short periods of time.”

“Don’t anyone piss in the water,” announced the scorpion ambassador. “It agitates the eel fish. Makes them aggressive.” “What do you mean, aggressive?” asked Private Wayne, abruptly pulling himself out of the pool. “They will attack?” “Quite viciously,” advised the scorpion ambassador. “Tell me you didn’t.” Scorpions scrambled out of the water. Their exoskeletons truly did shine magnificently. No one was viciously attacked, but as I pulled myself out of the water I realized I had a problem. Lulu screamed. Ambassador Yamashita shrugged. I laughed. We were hairless. Everywhere.

* * * * *

Drinks preceded a fine turkey meal. It was not quite turkey, and it was a bit gamey, but obviously the scorpions had done their homework and found a deliciously foul bird to baste and roast. The meat was tender and melted in your mouth. The gravy and potato-like vegetables tasted almost like back home on Old Earth. The scorpions meticulously researched our Thanksgiving Day traditions and put on quite a feast. I enthusiastically proposed a toast. “To this fine meal, friends, associates, and even the spider Intelligentsia, let us give thanks and appreciation. My complements to your chef on this fine turkey meal.”

“It’s Mantidae,” bragged the scorpion Ambassador. “Only the best for our honored guests.”

Sergeant Green coughed and violently spit out his food in mid-chew, spraying the table with meat chunks and dressing. I slapped Green on the back, fearing something had lodged itself down his windpipe. “Are you okay?” I asked as Green regained his composure.

“Bob is AWOL!” reported Sergeant Green, upset and animated. “What about Bob?” I asked, not understanding. “Private Robert Rashid is AWOL,” repeated Sergeant Green. “He was last seen making a mail delivery to this embassy!” “So?” I asked, getting irritated. “We can discuss administrative matters when we get back to our embassy. Lighten up, Green. This is a party. Enjoy yourself for a change.” As I forked another bite, Sergeant Green slapped my turkey aside, splattering the spider Intelligentsia officer next to me. “Private Rashid is a Mantid.
We are eating Bob!
”

I threw up. Guido, a sympathetic vomiter, threw up, too. Sergeant Williams followed suit.

“Do you need a doctor?” asked the scorpion ambassador. “I hope this is not another one of your human flu outbreaks. What was it last time, rat or bird flu?”

“Czerinski, you always make a mess of things,” scolded Ambassador Yamashita. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“It is certainly bad form to be puking on guests and our host,” added Lulu primly as she dabbed at her cheek with a napkin corner. “He’s such a slob!”

“We are eating a legionnaire!” I yelled. “We are eating Bob!”

“Czerinski, have you gone mad?” asked Ambassador Yamashita, taking another bite of Bob. “This is the best turkey I have ever eaten. Did you forget to take your medications again?”

“Dinner is over,” I announced. “We are leaving. You have not heard the last of this outrage!”

“You are overreacting,” advised the scorpion ambassador, alarmed at yet another seeming example of irrational human volatility. “Mantid is a traditional Scorpion Empire meal. My apologies. I would have imported Old Earth turkey if I had known it meant so much to you.”

“We will not forget Bob!” I proclaimed as legionnaires stormed out.

Private Wayne gulped another bite, washed it down with wine, and joined the exodus. He corked the bottle and slipped it into a pouch.

“Until I receive further instructions from my chain of command, assume a state of war exists between the United States Galactic Federation and the Scorpion Empire!” I threatened as I headed for the door. “Private Robert Rashid will be avenged!”

“We are eating Bob?” shrieked Lulu. “Are you sure?”

“Bob who?” asked Ambassador Yamashita. Lulu whispered in his ear. Yamashita threw up too as he scrambled for the door.

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Chapter 8

I painted ‘What About Bob?’ on the turret of my armored car as legionnaires loaded gear, weapons, and ammunition. At the crack of dawn, our convoy of three armored cars left the American Embassy compound en route cross-town to attack the Scorpion Embassy. War had been declared. I declared it. Private Rashid would be avenged today.

* * * * *

Ambassador Yamashita called General Lopez. “Colonel Czerinski has lost his mind this time! At this very moment, Czerinski is mobilizing the entire security detail to attack the Scorpion Embassy. It’s madness. He will start a war!”

“Stop!” interrupted General Lopez, now viewing the video feed of legionnaires in full combat gear. “What is this all about?” “The scorpions invited us over for Thanksgiving dinner,” explained Ambassador Yamashita. “But it wasn’t turkey. It was Bob!” “Bob?” “They fed us Mantidae!” “Not turkey?” “No!” “I don’t understand what the big deal is. Mantidae, turkey, whatever. It all tastes fowl ... you know, like chicken. Beef is better. I always slop on lots of gravy during holiday meals. Tradition has to be maintained.”

“Aren’t you listening? We ate Private Robert Rashid!” “You ate Bob? Bob is a Mantid?” “Yes! That is what I am trying to tell you! How did you ever make general?” “You ate a legionnaire?” “Now you’ve got it. Czerinski has gone crazy and is going to attack the Scorpion Embassy!” “Without air support?” asked General Lopez. “You are right. Czerinski
has
gone crazy. Patch me in to Colonel Czerinski’s command car. I’ll put an end to this folly right now!”

“Thank you, general. Finally, someone with reason. You had better hurry. Czerinski has really slipped a cog this time. They are leaving now!”

* * * * *

“Czerinski, you will halt your attack this minute!” ordered General Lopez. “I know what you are up to. Don’t think I haven’t figured out your scheme!”

“They fed us Bob,” I explained. “One moment Bob is delivering the mail, the next he is Thanksgiving dinner. We cannot let scorpions eat legionnaires during the holiday season. It sets a bad precedent. Today it’s Bob, tomorrow it could be you or me.”

“Do not lecture me about precedent, you glory hound. You don’t give a damn about precedent, and you have no principles. I know what this is all about! You are purposely trying to provoke an intergalactic incident, and plan to use the publicity to enter politics after you retire from the Legion. I’ll bet you might even attempt a run for the Presidency. I’ve heard rumors about your ambitions.”

“Yeah, you found me out,” I replied, about to cut the video feed.
And Lopez thinks I’m crazy? The man is a couple beans short of a full burrito.

“The Presidency is mine!” exclaimed General Lopez. “No Polack from Texas is going to steal it from me.”

“Arizona,” I corrected.

“Same difference! You will not steal this opportunity from me. Stop your attack until my shuttle arrives. I intend to lead the attack myself!”

“You are flying here?” I asked, alarmed. “Sir, this is not a publicity stunt. I really will kill those scorpions. Are you sure you want to risk your career. This is war.”

“You heard me,” said General Lopez. “Risk? You’re the gambler, but I am all in too. May we hang together!”

“And people say I have a gambling problem. Oh well, gambling is only a problem if you lose.”

* * * * *

General Lopez’s shuttle landed on the freeway, blocking traffic. A spider TV traffic helicopter hovered overhead, its camera zoomed in for a close-up shot and scoop on what the human pestilence were up to this time.

“This is not going to end well,” commented Corporal Tonelli, saluting the general as Lopez hopped up into my armored car. “You want to live forever?” replied General Lopez, enthusiastically. “We are seizing the moment. Let’s go hunt scorpion!” General Lopez shook my hand. “Are you up to this?” he asked. “You look stressed. I need your A-game this time.” “Just tired,” I answered, having second thoughts. “How are those embedded chips in your bones doing?” asked General Lopez. “Maybe you need an upgrade. That’s what I did. I feel great!”

“Perk of being a general?” “You better believe it.” “I think my Fountain of Youth Chip is damaged.” I sighed. “Nothing lasts forever. There is only so much technology can do.” “I’ll get you new chips when we return to Old Earth,” promised General Lopez, slapping me on the back like a long-lost friend. Actually, Lopez was a long-lost friend. “Don’t worry, Old Man. I take care of my friends!”

“You can give me new chips?” I asked. “What about the legalities?”

“Give?” scoffed General Lopez. “When we return to Old Earth, we will take what we want, including the latest Fountain of Youth Chip upgrades.”

“They are going to hang us.”

“You just stick with me, Czerinski. Returning heroes always get their due. It’s an American tradition.”