Free America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 2: Reenlistment by Walter Knight

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 damn
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