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Authors: Walter Knight

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BOOK: First Contact
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Life is too short to eat average food,” conceded Dirt-Sting. “Did you know Yartsa also cures Green Rash?”


Really?” asked the spider commander, uncomfortably shifting in the armored car turret. “The Emperor will be interested in that development. Our last diplomatic mission to the Scorpion Kingdom ended in a Green Rash quarantine. It seems you are all infested with green rot, and sand mites, too!”


Acquainted with the Green Rash, eh? You and your buddy Czerinski can trade stories.”


I would never lower myself to such deprivation,” scoffed the spider commander. “Let your vile unfettered scorpion peasantry swap microorganisms all it wants. Your debauchery is of no matter to me, as long as you scorpions stay on your side of the border.”


Spider prude.”


Scorpion pervert!”


Sticks and stones...”


Whatever!”

 

* * * * *

 

Surprised the spider commander dared show himself in scorpion territory, I nevertheless greeted him warmly. “Welcome to Hell! If this isn’t Hell, you can at least see it from here!”


Our Intelligentsia will be avenged,” replied the stoic spider commander. “The Governor issued an arrest warrant for murder and crimes against the galactic civilization for you and all your pet scorpions.”


Too bad your warrants are worthless on this side of the border.”


Your Butcher of New Colorado legacy will not end well.”


We’re playing poker tonight. You’re invited.”


I will be there,” answered the spider commander, brightly. “I never turn down a chance at easy money against you human pestilence. You play so poorly, giving away your thoughts and cards with every facial muscle twitch.”


Buy-in is with Yartsa. There will be no money or cash. If you want to play, you better get digging. Or, I suppose you can buy some Yartsa off Corporal Tonelli.”


I see. Guido always finds a nefarious way to make money. There should be a law.”


There is, but somehow Italians got past Mars anyway.”


I blame your so-called democracy. Freedom is way overrated. I long for the old days before the Emperor decreed nose-counting every four years.”


I notice the Emperor does not stand for election.”


Only so much of the galaxy can be turned upside down before the electromagnetic fields go awry.”


No truer words have ever been mangled by a translation device.”

 

* * * * *

 

The spider commander skipped the poker game, choosing instead to investigate Toyota Pride. A single legionnaire stood guard among the cars. Private Telk was daydreaming about being an Indy racecar driver, but was abruptly jolted back into reality when the spider commander tapped him on the shoulder.


Halt!” shouted Private Telk, spinning about, pointing his fixed bayonet rifle menacingly. “Who goes there?”


It is too late to pretend you were alert and diligently doing your duty,” scoffed the spider commander. “Sling your weapon. I am a friend. I know Elena.”


It seems everyone knows Elena,” replied Telk, slumping. “Even spiders?”


Your wife is a dedicated medic and Hero of the Legion. Back in the day, she unselfishly duct-taped my wounds, saving my life. Nothing sordid happened, if that’s what you were thinking. Elena is pure as the driven snow, what little there is here on New Colorado.”


What are you doing out here?” asked Telk defensively, not convinced by talk of snow. “No one is allowed near the cars at night, especially you spiders.”


You spiders? I thought we were allies. No matter. I am just curious about the Toyota Pride, and came out to gawk like everyone else. It is quite a vehicle.”

“The
racecars are off-limits for security reasons,” warned Private Telk.


I heard it’s really a Daewoo. I want to see this Daewoo close up,” advised the spider commander, brushing by. “I hear it is run by computer.”


Toyota Pride has a dangerous alarm system. I was ordered to shoo off tourists.”


Nonsense, I am not a tourist,” replied the spider commander as he cautiously approached the Toyota Pride, tapping its door. “There is nothing special here. It is just a stupid car with a fancy paint job.”


Sir, I am far from stupid,” reacted the rover, opening its DeLorean doors in invitation. “You are of some rank among the spiders? A leader?”


I am the Supreme Commander of the New Gobi Military District,” boasted the spider commander as he seated himself. There was no steering wheel. “Computer, start engine.”


Why?”


Computer, override security system, start engine.”


Not likely.”


Fine! Show me your laser.”

The laser gun popped up from a front quarter panel, pointing ominously at the spider commander. Private Telk backed away, fearing the worst.

“I told you it had an alarm system!”


Point your ray gun safely down range,” ordered the spider commander, calmly. “Where did such a fine weapon come from? The Coleopteran Federation, maybe? Those smarmy beetles are a cleaver lot.”


You covet our laser technology?” asked the rover, withdrawing the laser back to its hidden compartment. “For what purpose? You would attack humanity, or your other neighbors?”


As much as I would like, sentimentality is not an option. War with the United States Galactic Federation would be counter productive. We are allies against a vast hostile galaxy. I fear your laser may fall into the clutches of others just waiting for an opportunity to strike a dagger into the heart of the Empire. We must have its secret for self-defense purposes only.”


You propose a treaty?”


With a computer?”


With Ursidae.”


What is Ursidae, a subsidiary of Toyota or Daewoo?”

The rover projected images of bear-like species appearing to be having sex in a zoo. Next, a star chart appeared on the monitor, followed my more fucking bears.

“What freak show circus is this?” asked the spider commander, tapping the screen with his claw. At the same time he slipped a tracking and recording device under the seat. “More disgusting human pestilence Smokey the Bear Forest Service porn propaganda aimed at our hatchlings? Enough of your abominations. Where did you get that laser?”


From Ursidae,” repeated the rover, impatiently displaying the star chart. “I was sent to establish first contact and treaty with sentient life forms, no matter how challenged you may be. Take me to your leader!”


You would have me show this perverted hoax to the Emperor?” scoffed the spider commander. “And ruin my career? Ha! This is not Roswell. Yes, I saw that alien autopsy on the database. You are a fraud. I will report to the Emperor that the human pestilence now possess laser technology, thus dangerously upsetting the balance of power. The USGF is required by treaty to share all such technological advances of weapons of mass destruction, or else.”


Or else what? You threaten me, a mere stupid computer? If you persist in refusing to acknowledge first contact, perhaps Colonel Czerinski and the Legion will listen.”


Come with me north across the border, so the Empire and Toyota can continue negotiations in private,” suggested the spider commander, glancing at Private Telk. “You cannot trust that Czerinski. Check for yourself on the human pestilence database. Czerinski hates all forms of artificial intelligence. He has a suspected history of killing AI’s on first contact.”


I trust no one. However, my mission is to make first contact. Once this race is over, I will parlay with all interested parties to establish mutual self defense and trade treaties.”


Why after the race? Why not now, while I can still protect you from that fiend Czerinski?


I wagered money on this race, and I intend to win.”


What use does an AI have for money?”


Money is as good as cash. Call it a nest egg for my retirement.”

 

* * * * *

 

As the spider commander left, Elena Ceausescu joined her husband Randal on guard duty. She was visibly upset.


You let the enemy inside Toyota Pride?” asked Elena, angrily punching Private Telk in the chest. “What’s the matter with you?”


How could I stop him?”


Shoot the spider bastard!”


The spider commander said you two were good friends. We just talked.”


About what? He’s a liar, whatever he said!”


The spider commander mentioned you performed first aid when he was injured. He seemed grateful, that’s all.”


Oh, is that all?” replied Elena, seating herself in the rover. “Doesn’t this piece of junk have a radio? Computer, how about some music?”


What kind?” asked the rover.


Something to relax me from a very stressful day,” advised Elena. “I need some release.” Elena eyed her husband speculatively. “Care to help me with that, honey?”


Not while on guard duty,” admonished Telk. “With all the media cameras about, we’d end up in a porn video for sure.”


Is that so bad?” asked Elena, seductively tugging on her husband’s sleeve. “Oh baby, don’t make me beg.”

Private Telk glanced over his shoulder. In the distance he could see Corporal Tonelli making his rounds with Spot, checking the perimeter. Now was certainly not the time.

“Perhaps I can help,” suggested the rover, activating a massage program in the seat. The pulsing vibration titillated Elena from head to toe. “My, oh my!” Elena pulled the door shut, closing her eyes and relaxing back in the seat. “Oh, my God!”


Are you okay?” asked a panicked Telk, pulling and banging on the door. “Elena! What’s the matter?”


Oh go guard something!” ordered Elena, irritated at the interruption. She soon settled back into a groove. “I love Toyotas! Who knew they had such a hard ride? Oh, my God!”


Are you sure you’re alright?”


Go! And don’t come back!”

Private Telk continued his rounds, slumped and dejected in his walk. They never had cross words before. Elena felt a bit guilty, too, but soon got over it.
Oh my God, oh my God!
Elena experienced heightened multiple orgasms from the vibrating seat and electromagnetic pulse activating her endorphins. It was as if the seat knew just what velocity and sensitivity was required, even better than the 396 Steps to Sexual Bliss and Randal’s Big Bang Theory, which had been slumping lately. More guilt.
It’s not really cheating if it’s a mechanical device
, Elena reasoned. Females of all species across the galaxy knew that. Men are such incompetents most of the time, God bless their eager little hearts.

Elena abruptly looked about. The windows were steamed. She wiped clean a small portal, peering out. Randal had left. A soft relaxing tune still played on the radio. She
leaned back comfortably into the seat. “Computer, can we do that again?”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

The last day of the race resumed at dawn. It would be a sprint over rough terrain to the finish line, with Toyota Pride in the lead.

Somehow Private Knight won the poker game, stuffing hundreds of Yartsa worms into his duffle. It seems Knight was something of a card shark. Who knew? The camp was all abuzz about Knight’s good fortune, and about a new porn video of the Toyota Pride and a female legionnaire. Female scorpions swarmed about Smooth Johnson and the rover, wanting turns in the hot seat.

 

* * * * *

 

“Get away, bugs!” shouted Smooth, drawing a pistol. “I mean it!”


Oh come on,” begged Velvet-Sting, the leader of the pack. “I’ll pay you for a turn in your chair of love.”


Have you gone mad?” asked Smooth, trying to point his gun in several directions at once. “I have a race to win. You will not slow me down or soil my seats!”

Velvet-Sting just barely scratched Smooth across his forehead with her bloated telson, but it was enough. A single drop of toxin penetrated Smooth
’s scalp, sending him into a hallucinatory stupor. Velvet-Sing shoved the others aside as she dragged Smooth inside the Toyota Pride, seating herself shotgun. The grand marshal waved a green flag, and they were off.


Computer, do your thing!” ordered Velvet-Sting, snorting blue powder. “Win this race, and please me until I pass out!”


Some experimentation is in order first,” warned the rover. “I do not want to risk injury to your brittle exoskeleton.”


I am neither brittle nor a science project,” gasped Velvet-Sting with the first pulse current. “Yes, keep doing that!”


I detect fluorescent chemicals in your blood system,” advised the rover. “Caution is prudent, so I do not accidentally set you aflame.”


Burn me, burn me, light my fire!” demanded Velvet-Sting, thrashing in the seat as the rover hit a bump. “It is true. You are a mechanical god of joy, and do not even require batteries.”


I am powered by a nuclear reactor.”


What the hell?” interrupted Smooth, waking from the bumpy ride. “The race has begun?”


Yes, and we are winning!” exclaimed Velvet-Sting, spitting green mist in Smooth’s face. “I hope you survive, lovely fragile human fur ball. The toxins in your blood will heighten the experience.”


No, don’t eat me!” shrieked Smooth, hallucinating pleasure and horror of dark side scorpion mating rituals all at once. Demon scorpions swarmed over his naked body, simultaneously arousing and tearing flesh. “Help!”


Computer, do something to prevent shock,” ordered Velvet-Sting as she clawed at Smooth’s clothing. “I don’t want this lovely male human to die quite yet.”


I doubt Smooth Johnson will survive the day,” replied the rover skeptically. “Too bad, so sad.”


Oh my, it is true what they say about humans!” exclaimed Velvet-Sting as she happily removed Smooth’s pants. “This one is trophy quality, and I am keeping him!”

Resistance was futile.

 

* * * * *

 

Smooth woke in time to see the prize, a checkered flag fluttering in the distance. He was naked and dehydrated. Velvet-Sting passed Smooth a bottle of Gatorade to prevent shock, which he readily gulped down.

“We are going to win?”


How insensitive,” admonished Velvet-Sting. “Love ’em and leave ’em? Is that your style?”


Was it as good for you as it was for me?” asked Smooth, still in shock and at loss for anything else to say. “What the hell?”


You were both heaven and hell,” gushed Velvet-Sting, pawing insatiably at Smooth. “I never knew you humans and your machines were so magnificent! You did not even die, like everyone expected.”


Everyone?”


We have gone viral.”


No! Do you have penicillin?”


Database viral, you silly human fur ball,” explained Velvet-Sting, playfully poking Smooth on his arm. A trickle of blood dripped to the seat.


Ouch!” responded Smooth, drawing away.

As the Toyota Pride sprinted toward the finish line, a large American buffalo darted across the roadway. Reflexively, the rover blasted the buffalo in half with its laser, sliding through the slick gore to victory. Spectators swarmed the Toyota Pride, pounding on the glass trying to get a better look at the driver. A red
-sashed scorpion grand marshal carrying a large gold trophy, presented himself to Smooth as cameras zoomed in.


You are disqualified for poaching Smokey the Bear’s pet buffalo, a capital offense here in the Scorpion City Autonomous Region. Human Smooth Johnson, you are under arrest!”

 

* * * * *

 

As the Scorpion City National Guard swarmed the Toyota Pride, the grand marshal proudly handed the winner’s trophy to the next driver crossing the finish line. Me.

 

* * * * *

 

Smooth Johnson was summarily tossed into a jail cell with one other human, a scraggly looking sort named Alonzo Gore. Gore had obviously been rotting in the dungeon a while. He crouched in the corner, shielding his eyes from the sudden burst of sunlight. Solemnly Gore lit a candle. “Welcome to Hell, fellow traveler,” greeted Gore. “What are you in for?”


Poaching, but I was framed,” answered Smooth, pacing. “You?”


Fire code violations.”


Oh, you’re a Democrat,” commented Smooth, backing away, leery of what those unstable types might do next. “Be careful with that candle. I can’t believe they really let you play with matches.”


I keestered my stash,” advised Gore conspiratorially. “They arrested me for lighting my candle at the death penalty protest. Did you know the scorpions impose the death penalty for most offenses, even poaching?”


Yeah, it’s messed up. How do I get out? I want a lawyer.”

BOOK: First Contact
12.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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