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Authors: Walter Knight

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BOOK: Lieutenant Columbus
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* * * * *

 

The spider guard at the dam waved frantically at Corporal Tonelli from his shack, finally shouting on a PA speaker. “Guido! Run for cover
! W
e are at war!”

“Again?” asked Corporal Tonelli. “Are you sure?”

Explosions in town signaled the start. Guido ran to the far side of the dam as his shack exploded. He jumped into his bunker and returned fire.

 

* * * * *

 

The spider commander gloated triumphantly as he watched fires across the lake, an eerie glow cast on the carnage.

A phantom being swooped from the sky, methodically killing spider marines. “Vampire!” shouted the missile crews as they abandoned their posts. The monster tore off the heads of hapless marines, stacking them at a crossroad. Then he came for the spider commander. It was a human pestilence legionnaire! The spider commander fired his pistol at the monster, to no effect.

“Holy mother of the Prophet, what the
h
ell are you?” asked the spider commander, backed against a wall.


Johnny Black
, and Hell is exactly where I intend to send you.”
The vampire smiled, baring his fangs.

“Can

t we make a deal?” pleaded the spider commander.

“You have nothing I want.”

“Come on, think! There must be something. Money, maybe?”

“Actually, there is something. I need a ride to Old Earth. I want to go home. No one will sell me a ticket with this Legion tracking chip in my ass.”

“Ha! Turn you loose on Old Earth? Oh, that is so precious. I will do it! I will remove that tracking chip, too. Friends?”

“No hugs. I just want to play baseball.”

“For who?”

“Seattle Mariners.”

“So you shall!” exclaimed the spider commander. They shook hands and claws. “I wager you take Seattle all the way to the World Series.”

 

* * * * *

 

Columbus and Percy dug themselves out of the rubble, still not married.

“I do,” replied Columbus, embracing his true love.

The stoned preacher popped up through drywall and dust. “I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

The newlyweds kissed. They kept Hargundu.

 

back to Table of Contents

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

Proof the World is Flat

 

Months later,
Captain Christopher Columbus
had requested and been granted leave to pursue a special project. He
waited patiently outside the Oval Office most of the day.
President Miller

s snub was obvious.
However, at the end of the day
,
Columbus was finally given five minutes to present his proposal.


Make it quick,

snapped President Miller.

My advisers dismiss you as a crackpot, but my wife insists your theories may have merit.
Because you are a Her
o of
the Legion, I will hear you out.


Thank you
,
Mr. President,

replied Columbus.

To the point, the world is flat.
Give me a shuttle of legionnaires, and I will prove it.


The world is round,

scoffed President Miller.

Are you nuts?
Photos from space prove it.
Don

t you watch TV?
Anyone who has been in orbit can tell you the world is round.


Magnetic energy at the South Pole distorts our vision of reality, creating an illusion of roundness,

insisted Columbus.

However, it is becoming common knowledge among leading scientists and quantum physicists that the world is indeed flat.
Our beam technology, allowing us to gallivant all about the galaxy, is only consistent with Einstein

s theory of relativity if you accept quantum flat-world theory.


How come no one told me about this?

asked President Miller, angrily turning to his aides.

Why am I always the last to know?


We are telling you now, Mr. President,

advised the Secretary of Transportation.

But it

s just a theory.
There has been no verification.


A shuttle beamed from orbit directly into the South Pole should theoretically pass through Antar
c
tica and come out at the North Pole,

explained Columbus.

Our discovery will give us the strategic advantage over the spiders we so desperately seek.


And if you are wrong?


Then the shuttle goes splat, and we kill a few penguins.


We have lots of shuttles,

commented President Miller
. His eyes gleamed as he mumbled to himself, “A discovery of this magnitude could produce a lot of
good press.
” He turned his attention back to Columbus. “
Did you say something about needing
l
egionnaire volunteers?


Colonel Czerinski volunteered for the mission,

answered Columbus.


Really?

asked President Miller incredulously.

Czerinski?


No, sir.
But he will
,
if you so order.


It sounds risky.


Colonel Czerinski is a Hero of the Legion.
He laughs at danger and spits in Death

s eye.


You

re right!

exclaimed President Miller, slapping his desktop with enthusiasm.

This mission is perfect for Czerinski.
Make it happen!


Right away, sir,

replied the Secretary of Transportation.


While you

r
e
at it,
” President Miller added, “
send that snake-in-the-grass Lopez with him.
And, make sure no penguins get killed.


Yes, sir.

 

* * * * *

 

I was ordered back to Earth to personally supervise the muster of much
-
needed combat
-
seasoned legionnaires, recruited from the Third Army.
Some did not want to leave.
I was accompanied by Major Lopez and Captain Columbus.
Our shuttle flawlessly beamed into Earth
maintaining
orbit over Antarctica.


You are an excellent navigator,
Captain Columbus,”
I commented, comfortably gazing down at the sheets of ice.

You

re a naturally gifted star traveler.


Thank you, sir,

replied Captain Columbus.

Do you have faith in God Almighty?


Of course I believe in God,

I answered, slightly irritated.

What does that have to do with anything?


Czerinski does his praying in the casino, at the Altar of Blackjack,

scoffed Major Lopez, nervously staring out the portal.

Why are we hovering over Antarctica?
We are supposed to land at Fort Polk.


I did not ask if you believed in God,

continued Captain Columbus, ignoring Lopez.

Belief in God is a given.
I asked,
do you have faith
in God?


Whatever.
Get us down to Tigerland.
That

s an order.


Sir, do you see that black dot on the ice?
It is a vast colony of nesting Emperor Penguins, huddling to stay warm.


So?


That same spot also happens to be the exact location of Earth

s magnetic South Pole.
It

s ironic, in a way.


I see nothing ironic about penguins freezing their asses off.
Stop sightseeing, and get us home.


Yes, sir,

replied Captain Columbus, immediately plunging the shuttle into the atmosphere.

Better strap in.
Impact in minutes!


Have you gone nuts?

I shouted, helplessly thrust back into my seat.

After all we have been through together, you would kill us all?


Lord willing, we shall not die.
At least, not today!


Loco bendaho!

accused Major Lopez.

Pull up before it

s too late!


The President himself authorized this mission of exploration.
We will rewrite history.
I will prove the world is flat.
I will be Admiral of the Stars!


Flat?
You will prove
us
flat when we hit Earth!

I protested.


Splat, like Wiley Coyote,

added Major Lopez, crossing himself.

You punk!


Doubting Thomases.
I have always proved my critics wrong.
I have no time for critics.
You will see.
The world is flat!


What about those poor innocent penguins?

I asked desperately, watching the dot grow larger.

Did you know killing penguins is a felony?


All great scientific discovery involves risk.
Today we break a few egg shells, tomorrow we eat omelets for breakfast!


I don

t want to die!


Don

t be a sissy.


You sick crazy bastard!

I shouted, struggling for my pistol.

I

ll see you in Hell!

My world went black.

 

* * * * *

 

I woke to a ruined shuttle, crashed on the ice.
Columbus and Lopez lay unconscious, still strapped to their seats.
Enraged, I
lumbered out of my seat and went over to Columbus,
repeatedly punch
ing him
in the face and kick
ing
him in the ribs for good measure.
Outside the portal, burnt feathers and penguin shit littering the ice.
Damn!

A polar bear smashed its gnarly yellow teeth against the portal.
Saliva splattered across the glass, freezing in place.
The polar bear waved his fluffy white paw, as if saying hello.
How cute.
I opened the portal and shot Fluffy in the head.
The polar bear flopped about on the ice in a spasm, spewing crimson from its mouth.
The poor pathetic creature lifted its chin, staring with those sad brown eyes.
Why?
Mercifully, I shot it again.

BOOK: Lieutenant Columbus
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