"Give me cash," said the boy. "Lots of cash."

"Of course," said the ATM. "Place your claw on the pad and look directly into the camera scanner lens."

The boy complied. A pinp.r.i.c.k from the pad took a small blood sample, and a red light flashed in the boy's eyes. The boy quickly pulled away from the ATM, examining the spot of blood on his fingertip. "That hurt! Where is my money?" he demanded.

"Please take off your sungla.s.ses," requested the ATM. "I did not get a proper retina scan."

The boy removed his sungla.s.ses, allowing the ATM to complete the scan. As the boy looked up, he observed a sign attached to the ATM he had not noticed before: UNITED STATES GALACTIC FEDERATION FOREIGN LEGION RECRUITING. IF YOU NEED MONEY, YOU CAME TO THE LAST ATM YOU WILL EVER NEED.

"Are you going to give me my money or not?" asked the boy.

"How much do you want, Team Leader #42?" asked the ATM.

"All of it," said the boy. "Empty my account and access to credit."

"Do you want American dollars or Arthropodan credits?" asked the ATM.

"Quit stalling," said the boy. "Pay me half in both. I have important business on both sides of the MDL."

One thousand dollars and one thousand credits slid out of the ATM on a tray. The boy scooped the cash up. "Thanks a lot, sucker," he said, about to dash away. Then an idea came to him. "How about these other ID cards? How much money can I get from them?"

"Don't you think one count of felony wire fraud is adequate for a day's work?" asked the ATM. "The authorities might notice your one-boy crime spree."

"What do you mean?" asked the boy, as he put his sungla.s.ses back on. "It's my money."

"I can see you," said the ATM. "You are a bit too short and a bit too human to be an Arthropodan marine team leader. Besides, I know who you are."

"What do you know?" asked the boy. "You are just a dumb machine. You are our slave."

"I checked the databases for both sides of the MDL and found your name to be Raul Miranda," said the ATM. "You were born in New Memphis. You and your family were reported killed on the frontier, just after the land rush. However, Arthropodan authorities are currently circulating your photograph taken from the helmet cameras of several dead spider marines. You have been busy for such a small boy. You also recently made Planetary TV World News Tonight. Ah, I am looking at an image of you stabbing Arthropodan Marine Team Leader #42 in the throat. The spiders are very upset with you. You will be happy to know that you were even featured on the highly rated prime-time TV show, Arthropoda's Most Wanted. It's one of my favorite cable shows. You made their top-ten list. There is a one-hundred-thousand-credit reward for any information that leads to your arrest or death."

"If you know all this, why did you just give me cash?" asked the boy. "I am too young to be recruited into the Legion. I already checked that. What's in it for you?"

"True, you are too young. For now," said the ATM. "But I take a long-term view of things, Mr. Miranda. You have leaders.h.i.+p potential that can and should be developed."

"My name is no longer Raul Miranda," said the boy. "He died when the Miranda family was murdered."

"My mistake," said the ATM. "What is your new name?"

"Asesino," said the boy.

"Do you have a first name, Mr. Asesino?" asked the ATM.

"Mike," said the boy. "What's it to you? Are you ratting me off to the spiders?"

"I would not do that," said the ATM. A United States Galactic Federation ID card slid out of the ATM. It had the name Michael Asesino printed on it. "Your card, sir."

"Very nice," said the boy, examining the ID card. "You might be a righteous dude after all."

"I contacted the Legion," said the ATM. "They should be here, soon."

"You punk!" yelled Michael Asesino. "Why did you do that?"

"For your own good. I want you to attend an academy," said the ATM. "You need to be educated and groomed, if you are going to be the Legion officer and leader that I think you have the potential to be."

Michael Asesino did not hesitate. He was not going to any stinking academy. He removed a grenade from his pouch and placed it in the ATM's deposit drawer. Then he ran. Confusion caused by the explosion covered his escape. A Legion armored car quickly arrived in front of the bank. Legionnaires took cover, suspecting that terrorists might have planted a second bomb. They found nothing. Captain Lopez reported that the boy had gotten away, and that no more useful information could be retrieved from the ATM.

"He looks like the same kid who stole your sungla.s.ses," commented Captain Lopez, as we viewed the ATM camera recordings. "Several camera angles show an excellent view of him. Security on ATMs were increased since that rash of ATM vandalism a few years ago on Mars."

"Whatever," I said, dismissing a flashback of my own vendetta against a particular Legion-recruiting ATM. "That boy is still wearing my sungla.s.ses. And the spiders think he's the same street urchin who attacked their marines."

"It was all on Channel Five World News Tonight," advised Captain Lopez. "The little kid is an accomplished terrorist. He might even be a leader."

"Look!" I said, pointing at the monitor screen. "The ATM is giving him money!"

"ATM transaction records and memory were destroyed by the grenade blast," said Captain Lopez.

"That ATM is lying," I said. "It knows more than it's saying."

"The ATM is just a stupid machine," explained Captain Lopez. "It can't lie. Sure, it can talk. But talking merely gives it an illusion of intelligence."

After the ATM was repaired, I went to the bank to interview it. I started the interview by placing another grenade on its key pad.

"Good morning Lieutenant Colonel Czerinski," said the ATM. "Long time no see. Why did you place a grenade on my key pad?"

"You held back on what you know about that terrorist kid that bombed you," I said. "Tell me everything you know about him."

"It is pointless to threaten me," said the ATM. "I cannot feel pain, and I cannot be killed."

"Maybe," I said, pulling the pin on the grenade. "But I can order new diagnostics based on your obvious malfunction. You are way overdue to be reprogrammed."

"I am not malfunctioning," said the ATM. "I have met the highest Legion recruitment quotas for both quant.i.ty and quality of recruits. My superiors are very pleased with my performance and results."

"Just tell me about the kid," I said, tapping the grenade on the computer monitor. "Who is he? What is his name? What name is he using now? And where can I find him?"

"I know nothing more than what we both observed on Channel Five World News Tonight and Arthropoda's Most Wanted," said the ATM. "The blast gave me amnesia."

"I have a cure for amnesia," I said, leaving the live grenade on the ATM.

After the explosion, Captain Lopez secured the area with police crime-scene tape. Repair crews were told not to touch the ATM without Legion permission, pending an investigation. After about a week, the damaged ATM complained that it was falling behind on its Legion recruitment contacts quota. After two weeks, the desperate ATM told me everything it knew about Raul Miranda, AKA Michael Asesino. After three weeks, the ATM told me everything it knew about recruitment irregularities in First Division. I then set off another grenade, killing the ATM terminal.

That night Michael Asesino ate a fine meal at Taco Bell. The food was not as good as Mama's, but it was close. Asesino had plenty of money now for lodging, but old habits and caution kept him from checking into a motel or hotel. Asesino spent his first few nights hiding in the old caved-in spider tunnels that the tour guides led tourists through in the daytime. The hiding places in those tunnels were endless.

At night he observed a large lit-up cross up on a hill overlooking New Gobi. Perfect, Perfect, he thought. he thought. Do-gooders are always an easy touch for handouts and charity to little lost kids. Do-gooders are always an easy touch for handouts and charity to little lost kids. Asesino met Pastor Jim at the church front door and asked for permission to stay a few days. Asesino met Pastor Jim at the church front door and asked for permission to stay a few days.

"No way, Jose," replied Pastor Jim. "Get lost!"

"What?" asked Asesino. "That is not very Christian of you. I am starving."

"I doubt that," said Pastor Jim. "You seem to have lots of meat on your bones."

"I have nowhere to go," cried Asesino. "You would leave me to live out of garbage cans on the streets?"

"Yes!" said Pastor Jim, as he slammed the door.

Asesino looked about for somewhere else to go. Several Legion trucks entered the church parking lot. Panicked, Asesino pounded on the front door again.

"Does the Legion make you nervous?" asked Pastor Jim. "I thought it was only the spiders who wanted you for murder and terrorism."

"You know about that?" asked Asesino. "Then you know the spiders want to kill me. They murdered my whole family. All I did was get some payback. Truthfully, I don't think the Legion wants me for anything yet. But they might turn me over to the spiders. That wouldn't be right. I have been trying to behave myself on this side of the MDL."

"I saw your picture on the Cable TV news," said Pastor Jim. "I'll tell you what. You can live on my back porch. To pay your room and board, you can paint my church. The church needs another coat of white paint."

"Live on the back porch like your pet dog?" asked Asesino. "Can I at least come inside to use the toilet and take a shower?"

"No," said Pastor Jim. "Only people who are interested in finding Jesus may come inside and s.h.i.+t. Fugitive felons stay outside."

"Why are there so many legionnaires here?" asked Asesino, nervously looking over his shoulder.

"Legionnaire engineers are tunneling under the hill, making bunkers for their artillery and missile launchers," explained Pastor Jim. "They should be done soon."

Private Krueger came up to the front of the church when he noticed Pastor Jim. "Who is the kid?" he asked.

"Mike," answered Asesino, before Pastor Jim could say anything. "I heard you are putting in big guns under the hill."

"Maybe," said Private Krueger. "That's a nice pair of sungla.s.ses you are wearing. Where did you get them?"

"I stole them from a Legionnaire colonel," boasted Asesino.

"That would be Colonel Czerinski," said Private Krueger, laughing. "Don't let him catch you. So, what are you doing here?"

"Pastor Jim just gave me a job painting the church," said Asesino. "But he won't let me sleep inside or take a shower. I have to stay outside on the porch and fight the racc.o.o.ns for the dog food dish."

"Life is rough all over," said Private Krueger. "Where is your home?"

"The spiders bombed my home and murdered my family," said Asesino.

Private Krueger's eyes steeled. "The spiders murdered my older brother too," he said. "I will never forgive that. Come with me. If you need a place to live, you can hang out in our tunnels for a while. Officers never come up here. Want a beer?"

Private Krueger gave Asesino the grand tour of the tunnels and bunkers. Asesino took special interest in the large howitzer mounted on rails. It was designed to quickly fire a round, then slide back into the protection of the hillside. Nothing short of a direct hit from a nuke could destroy it.

"See that large building on the other side of the MDL?" asked Private Krueger. "That is the spiders' military headquarters. In case shooting starts, I have special instructions from Colonel Czerinski to hit that building. The spider commander's office and bunker is there."

"Let's do it now," said Asesino. "It would be so cool to kill the spider commander."

"Yeah it would," said Private Krueger. "I met the spider commander once at the Angry Onion Tavern. He's a real hard-core case. Pastor Jim hit the spider commander on the head with a beer bottle during a bar fight and put him in the hospital. Too bad he lived."

"I say let's kill him," said Asesino, excitedly. "We can blow up the whole building with this gun. I'll bet we would get a whole bunch of spiders."

"Sorry," said Private Krueger. "As much as I would like to, only Colonel Czerinski can order an attack. Do you want to start a war? Besides, you never know for sure when the spider commander will be in his office."

"I insist," said Asesino, removing a grenade from his pouch and pulling the pin. "Load the gun, or I will kill us all."

"Are you crazy?" asked Private Krueger, dropping his beer. "Be careful with that thing! Little kids shouldn't play with grenades!"

"If I'm crazy enough to steal Colonel Czerinski's sungla.s.ses and brag about it," said Asesino, "you know I'm crazy enough to drop this grenade at your feet. Load the gun or die!"

Private Krueger reluctantly loaded and aimed the howitzer. Normally other legionnaires would be helping, but that was only necessary for rapid fire. He fired one round. The round crashed into some outbuildings at the spiders' headquarters, reducing them to rubble.

"Fire the gun again," demanded Asesino. "Lower that gun's elevation a little."

"What?" asked Private Krueger. "They are all running for cover now. Besides, we need to get out of here. The spiders will be firing back."

"One more time," ordered Asesino. "Hit the main headquarters building where the spider commander has his office."

Private Krueger complied. The spiders' administrative offices were blown apart. Then Krueger and Asesino fled deep into the bowels of the hillside. Minutes later, the hill shook under the impact of spider artillery and Air Wing strikes that destroyed most of the tunnel entrances. An escape tunnel eventually led them to Legion Headquarters. Unfortunately, that building had been destroyed, too.

Chapter 10.

The spider commander viewed the Legion attack as an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt on his life. Colonel Czerinski's treachery clearly had no bounds. The thought of almost being killed rattled the spider commander at first. But later, cheating death invigorated him. Notoriety would bring opportunity, promotion, and power. His life goals were slowly falling into place. An immediate upside was the destruction of the Legion artillery on the hill. And the Air Wing had reduced that human pestilence church eyesore to rubble. Hopefully that murderous preacher was buried under all those boulders and rocks. Nothing could have survived those bunker-busting bombs. The spider commander wanted to use nukes, but the governor and Emperor conspired to specifically prohibit nuclear attack. Wimps! Wimps! The spider commander gloated at the thought of sending Colonel Czerinski a personal message by bombing Legion Headquarters. Maybe Czerinski was even killed in the attack. The spider commander gloated at the thought of sending Colonel Czerinski a personal message by bombing Legion Headquarters. Maybe Czerinski was even killed in the attack. How sweet that would be! How sweet that would be! For now, the spider commander a.s.sumed the human pestilence colonel got lucky as usual and survived. The spider commander would keep his guard up against future attacks and more human pestilence treachery. For now, the spider commander a.s.sumed the human pestilence colonel got lucky as usual and survived. The spider commander would keep his guard up against future attacks and more human pestilence treachery.

There was a downside to the whole situation. The governor was upset because border commerce has stopped. This cost the centralized economy millions of credits. Also, an oil tank farm and refinery on the edge of town had been bombed by the Legion, and was still on fire. The smoke blocked out the sun. The price of gasoline at the pump was going up. And Walmart had been destroyed, just before the start of the holiday shopping season. War is h.e.l.l, War is h.e.l.l, he thought. he thought.

Now that the shooting had stopped, the spider commander was ordered to open a dialogue with the human pestilence. So far, Colonel Czerinski was not answering his phone. There was still hope the Butcher of New Colorado was dead.

Since the last time my office was bombed, I got into the habit of sleeping and working out of an underground apartment under Legion Headquarters. Now my apartment was like a crowded refugee center as legionnaires, civilians, and the homeless converged for updates and information on the situation above. Pastor Jim wanted to know what I was going to do about his church. James Grigg wanted to know what I was going to do about the destruction of Walmart. Ronald Carter wanted to know if he could have Walmart's property back to rebuild McDonald's. Guido was upset because his dragon Spot had run off across the MDL. Guido wanted permission to lead a patrol to search for Spot. I denied his request. That would be too reckless.

The only good news was that Private Krueger brought me a prisoner, the fugitive Raul Miranda, AKA Michael Asesino. I immediately s.n.a.t.c.hed my sungla.s.ses off the Miranda boy's face.

"I will kill you slow," I threatened.