"I noticed you all have been drinking," said the spider deputy sheriff. "Do you have an alcohol permit?"

"Do you have a permit to ask stupid questions?" I asked back.

"We don't need no stinking permits," added Lieutenant Lopez.

Corporal Ceausescu, who was still under the armored car, got quite upset about being interrupted. She used her rifle b.u.t.t to reach out and strike the deputy sheriff in the ankle. He hopped away from the car, yelling in pain. "You are under arrest," said the spider deputy sheriff. "Come out from under there!"

"Try and come under here and get me," challenged Corporal Ceausescu. "You think you're male enough?"

"No one is under arrest," I slurred. "We are an army of occupation. You cannot arrest us."

"Civil authority has been established in Disneyland, and the Legion is leaving," said the spider deputy sheriff. "We have elected a new mayor and a new sheriff. I have the authority to arrest all of you."

"Either no one gets arrested, or we all get arrested," I said. "We are the Legion. We will not let you take one of us without a fight from all of us."

The spider deputy sheriff drew his pistol. Lieutenant Lopez aimed his machine gun. Everyone else that wasn't pa.s.sed out reached for their a.s.sault rifles.

"Now take it easy," I said. "She is just a girl. You don't want to arrest a girl, do you? Drunk females are more trouble than they're worth."

"You let a girl kick your a.s.s," baited Corporal Ceausescu. "Come on. You want a piece of me?"

The spider deputy sheriff looked closer at Corporal Ceausescu. She vomited on Sergeant Green, who was now pa.s.sed out. "The theater manager wants all of you out of here," said the spider deputy sheriff. "Leave! Do it now. And don't come back."

"Thank you, sir," I said, as I tried to hug the deputy again.

He gave me a shock with his electric baton. "No hugs!"

Everyone gathered up their clothes, and we left. Private Williams threw a beer bottle at a spider police car as we pa.s.sed by. We dropped the spider babes off at a Denny's Restaurant.

"I promise to write," said Pam as she waved at Private Washington.

"Bye honey," yelled Fran.

"I love you," called out Private Williams as we left town. He let out another rebel yell.

About two hundred miles outside of town, Sergeant Green woke up. He immediately started counting bodies. Someone was missing. "Where is Nesbit?" he asked.

"Getting popcorn?" said Private Williams.

"Captain! We are missing Private Nesbit," said Sergeant Green.

"Good," said Lieutenant Lopez. "I hope he gets arrested."

"We need to go back and find him," insisted Sergeant Green. "The insurgents might get him."

"Jan will get him first," said Corporal Ceausescu. "A fate worse than death."

"To h.e.l.l with Nesbit," I said. "He is a fool, anyway. I'll radio for the MPs to pick him up. Nesbit can join us later with the engineers."

CHAPTER 7.

The north of New Colorado was a vast unexplored forest wilderness. Along the North Highway there was no traffic because there were no services. Gasoline was airlifted to predetermined locations. We could have been airlifted ourselves, but I thought a road trip would be more fun. After combat, my troops needed to unwind. I needed to unwind. Yesterday at the movies was part of my plan. This drive would be the rest of it. Also, General Kalipetsis wanted the North Highway checked for signs of insurgents and bandits. About eight hundred miles into the trip, we came upon a spider and his donkey. He looked just like an Old West prospector, complete with overloaded pack animal.

"What is the human pestilence doing up here?" asked the prospector. "Is the Legion trying to start another war?"

"The war already happened," I explained. "It is over now."

"I missed it. Oh well, no big deal," said the prospector. "I guess Arthropoda lost, or you would not be here on our side of the DMZ. Why are you here? Sightseeing?"

"Looking for insurgents. Have you seen any?"

"I thought you said the war was over."

"Some are slow learners," said Sergeant Green.

"There is no one up here except me and Shaky Jake," said the prospector, patting his donkey. "It gets too d.a.m.n cold up here in the winter for most city boys."

"Are you prospecting for gold?" asked Lieutenant Lopez.

"He ain't too bright, is he?" asked the prospector. "Of course I am looking for gold. Why else would I freeze my mandibles off digging in the cold hard ground?"

"Find any gold?" I asked.

"Now that is for me to know and for you to not find out," said the prospector. "You have to have a special eye to find gold on New Colorado. How long are you going to be up here poking your snout where it don't belong?"

"Maybe a few months," I said. "We will be security for the new bridge they are going to build at Finisterra. You will be seeing the engineers trucking their heavy equipment through here in about a week."

"There goes the neighborhood," said the prospector. "I'll give you some advice since we are going to be neighbors. First thing, you tell those engineers when you see them to build you some cabins. And you might ask them to bring some warm clothes, too. It's going to be getting real cold up here, soon."

"How cold is real cold?" asked Corporal Tonelli.

"Cold enough to make a black and green popsicle out of that dragon of yours. He is not going to be happy up here. Keep that monster away from my donkey."

"I've been feeding Spot dog food because he is not allowed to eat humans or spiders anymore," said Tonelli. "He does seem to have taken an interest in your donkey."

"Just turn him loose when you get to where you are going," said the prospector. "He can eat all the deer he wants. They are everywhere. Maybe he will share a venison steak with you. It's real tasty."

"You can eat deer?" asked Tonelli. "Are they dangerous?"

"Tonelli has led a sheltered life," said Private Williams. "Of course you can eat deer. I'll take you hunting with me."

"Just be careful and on the lookout for Big Foot," warned the prospector.

"There is no such thing as Big Foot," I said. "Big Foot is just an Old Earth legend."

"We have the same legend on Arthropoda. You are probably right," said the prospector. "But there is something out there. I have heard it scream at night. And, I have seen gutted deer."

"Okay, I've heard enough ghost stories around the campfire," said Corporal Ceausescu. "Let's get going. This place gives me the creeps."

"How about selling me one of those gold pans hanging from your donkey?" asked Corporal Kool. "I'll give you twenty dollars for it."

"I have no use for money out here," said the prospector. "Trade me something."

"How about this?" asked Corporal Kool, handing the prospector a grenade. "It might be useful if you ever come face to face with Big Foot."

"Son, throw in your hat and you just bought yourself a gold pan," said the prospector.

Finisterra was nothing more than a fork in the river. We set up tents and portable heaters. A snowflake occasionally dropped from the overcast sky. I walked down to the river bank where the bridge construction would begin. Survey markers and posts were already in place. To my left a grenade went off in the water. I dropped into the mud for cover.

"Don't worry, it was just me," rea.s.sured Corporal Kool. "I was fishing."

"Get any?" asked Private Williams as he ran up to the river bank.

"Almost. It was this long," said Corporal Kool, gesturing about three feet. "But it got away."

As I angrily picked myself up out of the blue clay, I noticed something shiny in the water and picked it up. It was a gold nugget about the size of a door k.n.o.b. I washed it off and put the nugget into my grenade pouch. I looked about for more gold but didn't find any. No one had noticed my discovery.

"Captain, are you okay?" asked Corporal Kool. "Sorry if I startled you."

"Private Williams!" I yelled. "You take Corporal Kool north along the river and show him the proper way to fish. No more grenades!"

"Yes, sir," said Private Williams. "That is the best order I've been given since I joined the Legion."

"We better get going before he changes his mind," suggested Corporal Kool. "Or before Sergeant Green sees us and puts us to work again."

I called Battalion Headquarters on the radio to check in. I told the engineers I wanted cabins built because it was about to snow. When they asked if I wanted anything else built, I said I wanted a large lodge, a well for the plumbing, generators, swimming pool, and a hot tub. I then E-mailed the County Clerk in Disneyland and filed a miner's claim. I also filled out an application to buy Finisterra under the newly pa.s.sed Homestead Act of New Colorado.

Team Leader #4 of the Arthropodan Special Forces had orders to resupply the insurgency with arms, and to destabilize the North. He also brought twenty-five Special Forces advisors to help train the locals. At first the Emperor was reluctant to violate the terms of the peace treaty. But after the prison ma.s.sacre at Disneyland, there was a public outcry to do something. Also, it grated on the Emperor that uranium and oil deposits had just been discovered in the North. The human pestilence was keeping the discovery a secret because they knew some of those profits belonged to the Arthropodan corporation that sent geologists to the North in the first place.

#4 brought a.s.sault rifles, machine guns, RPGs, armored piercing rockets, land mines, and SAMs. #4 gave the local dragon leader the weapons and cached them in hidden bunkers along the North Highway. Apparently the insurgency had just been run out of town, and the Lion of the Forest was dead. They were eager for payback.

"This is the only road to the North," said #4. "You should be able to easily hara.s.s convoy traffic. The forest canopy is a perfect cover for hit and run tactics."

"I do not like this wild forest," commented the dragon leader. "I heard the human pestilence have seeded the forest with vicious predators from Earth to control the deer and other pests. Last night I heard a G.o.d awful scream as some poor animal got killed."

"No animal can stand up against your a.s.sault rifles," said #4. "With these weapons, you will rule the Northern Territory."

"Sir!" interrupted a Special Forces sergeant. "We found an old prospector who says he has information about the Legion being in this area."

"Bring him in," said #4. When he saw the prospector, he was shocked by his renegade appearance. The old fart entered the camp wearing a human cap and tugging at an animal of Old Earth origin. "Is that a Legion hat?"

"Of course it is," said the prospector. "They came through here about a week ago."

"What were they doing up here?" asked #4.

"Looking for you," said the prospector. "A captain told me engineers would be coming through to build a bridge at Finisterra."

"What are you doing up here?" asked the dragon leader.

"Minding my own business is what I should be doing," said the prospector. "I thought the war was over, but I now see you insurgents and marines. Are you all slow learners or just lost?"

"You will stay in camp for a while as our guest," ordered #4.

"Why?" asked the prospector. "I have my own camp."

"For security reasons," said #4.

"I was doing my duty while you were still an egg," complained the prospector. "Who do you think you are, hara.s.sing me like this?"

"It's only temporary," said #4.

"As big and majestic as the North Country is, you would think a spider could find some elbow room," griped the prospector. "But no! You busybody types have to get into everyone's business. I am not staying in your camp another minute. It's too crowded for my tastes, and I don't like the company." The prospector spit some chew on the ground and led his donkey into the forest.

"That prospector did not seem too happy. He might tip off the Legion about our presence," said the dragon leader.

"Kill him," said #4. "Kill the Earth animal, too. I can still smell its stench."

The dragon leader nodded to two insurgents. They quickly dashed into the brush after the prospector. About five minutes later, the whole camp heard a grenade explode. The two insurgents did not return. Their bodies were never found.

CHAPTER 8.

From his hiding place, the spider Special Forces sergeant watched the human pestilence convoy of about thirty trucks pa.s.s. His one hundred insurgents would cut off retreat and ambush any help that was sent.

The convoy drove a couple miles down the road to a bend in the road where it had to slow down. Private Nesbit was riding in the lead armored car when it hit a land mine. Nesbit was thrown out the back door by the force of the explosion. The convoy was halted by the resulting traffic jam.

Three spiders stepped from the thick forest and threw armor-piercing grenades. More vehicles caught fire. Private Nesbit shot one of the spiders. A machine gun on a ridge overlooking the convoy sprayed the trucks and legionnaires with more bullets. Private Nesbit crawled on his hands and knees to the rear of the convoy. It began to snow.

Armored cars were driven wildly into the ditch in an attempt to establish a defensive perimeter. Machine guns and cannons fired into the forest. Mortar sh.e.l.ls. .h.i.t the convoy. Trucks carrying bridge spans and parts caught fire and were abandoned. Two helicopter gunships a.s.signed to convoy escort strafed suspected insurgent positions on each side of the road. A spider soldier fired a heat-seeking rocket that hit one of the helicopters and brought it down. Smoke from the crash drifted over the battlefield.