The Ark Read online

  “Maybe I can work a deal to put cameras on the spiders,” speculated Coen, out loud. “You had better keep in mind that any alien technology you find is nothing compared to the cultural impact of finding Noah’s Ark. I don’t think you fully understand the possible importance of this discovery. Do you realize the spiders have an Ark in their mythology that parallels Noah’s Ark? The timeline is even the same.”

  “I’ve heard the rumors, and I’m sick and tired of all the speculation,” I replied. “I don’t know, nor do I care about spider history or religion.”

  “Perhaps we should share what we find with the spiders,” suggested Coen. “The spiritual impact of finding the Ark could give our two species the commonality to ensure a lasting peace.”

  “Or, the technology down there could tip the balance of power for the entire galaxy,” I argued. “I cannot take that chance. I will nuke the Ark before I allow it to fall into spider hands. It is the Legion’s responsibility to protect humanity at all costs.”

  “My God, you wouldn’t!” cried Coen. “Nuke the Ark? That would be sacrilegious to both species. You would be damned across the galaxy for eternity.”

  “It’s not an Ark!” I repeated, slamming my fist on my desk. “Get used to that fact! It’s just a huge alien starship. All you care about is ratings. But, think about this. When the truth gets out, there will be a letdown that will be felt across the galaxy, and it will be your fault. It will be your hide they seek, and I will personally deliver you to the mob.”

  * * * * *

  Two spider commandos parachuted through the morning darkness to their target, the New Memphis Bell Hotel Casino. Their mission was to blow the finger off the Mafia’s one-fingered salute. However, as soon as the commandos touched down on the hotel roof, Tony The Knuckle and hotel security caught them by surprise, beating and stomping the spiders with clubs and boots. The commandos were cuffed and brought to Jimmy The Neck for interrogation.

  “Hook the electrodes to his testicles,” ordered Jimmy The Neck, gleefully reading from the torture kit instruction manual. Jimmy The Neck had not expected so soon a chance to test his new torture kit. He was almost giddy with anticipation. The whole room took on a festive air as Tony The Knuckle plugged in the apparatus, and security guards strapped the spider commandos to twin tables.

  “Spiders don’t have testicles,” commented Tony The Knuckle, inspecting one of the spiders close up. “Or if they do, this one is not showing. Maybe there’s a shrivel factor.”

  “Attach the electrodes to his ears!” advised Jimmy The Neck, flipping the instruction manual to the spider diagram on the reverse side.

  “No!” pleaded the spider commando. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you everything if you will just leave my ears alone!”

  “What were you two doing on our roof?” asked Jimmy The Neck, dismayed that the interrogation was going to be so easy. “We found explosives in your pouches. You are terrorists?”

  “We were going to blow up the one-fingered salute lighted on the side of your hotel,” answered the spider commando. “Our commander hates your light display.”

  “Terrorists!” accused Tony The Knuckle, back-handing the spider across his face. “Who do you think you are messing with us? Don’t you know we’re connected?”

  “My commander does not care,” advised the spider commando. “He has no respect for the Mafia. Please, I was only following orders!”

  “I say we whack the spider commander,” suggested Tony The Knuckle. “I say we give these two cement shoes, and throw them to the crocs.”

  Jimmy The Neck flicked the voltage switch. Sparks flew, burning the spider’s antennae off. They popped up in the air, then rolled across the floor, still smoldering.

  “Ouch!” screamed the spider commando. “What did you do that for? Didn’t I just agree to tell you everything I know?”

  “Sorry about that,” replied Jimmy The Neck. “I was just testing the voltage meter to make sure this thing really works. It works just fine.”

  “What about my antennae?” asked the spider commando, thrashing about in his restraints.

  “Antennae grow back, don’t they?” asked Jimmy The Neck, sheepishly. “Can’t you glue it back on for now?”

  “I can duct tape it back on, good as new,” volunteered Tony The Knuckle. “You’ll look like a spider nerd, but it should work just fine.”

  “What are we going to do with these spiders?” asked Johnny The Gut, finally speaking up. “We can’t just keep them. We need to think of the big picture here.”

  “You had better release my commandos,” boomed a loud authoritative voice from a small speaker / transmitter mounted on the commando’s helmet. “Otherwise, I will nuke your tawdry casino.”

  “Who is this?” asked Jimmy The Neck, picking up the spider’s helmet and staring at the camera lens. “I am going to whack these two terrorists, and when I’m done, I will whack you, too!”

  “I am the Supreme Arthropodan Marine Commander for the Caldera Lake Military Sector! My commandos merely strayed across the border on a training exercise. Release them at once, or I will declare war on your Mafia. Can I make myself any clearer?”

  “They already confessed to being terrorists sent by you,” accused Jimmy The Neck. “I will make an example of them both. I’ll even let you watch.”

  “Wait!” said Johnny The Gut, placing a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Didn’t you hear him? He made us an offer we can’t refuse. They will whack us with nukes.”

  “The spiders wouldn’t dare,” scoffed Jimmy. “The spiders are too afraid of the Legion to attack us with nukes.”

  “You don’t know that!” argued Johnny. “This is all your fault. We should have immediately handed the terrorists over to the Legion. Then they would have been Joey The Toe’s problem. But no, you wanted to play with your torture kit! Now look at the mess you’ve got us in! We need to release these two spiders now!”

  “Shut up, you cowardly little weasel!” replied Jimmy The Neck, brushing Johnny’s hand off his shoulder. “Don’t ever touch me like that again! I’m still in charge here, and I make the decisions, not the likes of you!”

  “You won’t be the boss for long, if any harm comes to my marines,” warned the spider commander. “You have ten minutes to put them safely on a boat for home. Otherwise, you get whacked!”

  “We need to evacuate,” suggested Tony The Knuckle. “They’re going to bomb us!” “They’re bluffing,” said Jimmy The Neck. “Bombing the Belle would start a war.” “You think I bluff?” shouted the spider commander. “You greasy hairball human pestilence! I’ll kill you all!” Johnny The Gut drew his pistol and aimed it at Jimmy’s head. He nodded to the others, and the spiders were immediately released from their restraints. He then addressed the helmet camera. “See? We’re letting them go. Don’t bomb us! It will take more than ten minutes to steal a boat and return them!”

  “So this is how it’s going to be?” fumed Jimmy The Neck. “You ungrateful pigs. You challenge my authority after all the years we’ve worked together? The only reason you’re connected is because of me!”

  “You’re going with the spiders,” ordered Johnny The Gut, placing handcuffs on Jimmy.

  “You can’t be serious!” shouted Jimmy The Neck, as he was shoved out the door. “I’m connected! You can’t touch me! How dare you! The spiders will kill me. Can’t we talk this out? Make a deal? Call New Memphis Gaming first!”

  “No,” answered Johnny The Gut. “Your reckless behavior threatened our whole operation. You put New Memphis Gaming’s assets at risk for no good reason. This is the price you pay for making poor decisions. New Memphis Gaming will understand that you weren’t willing to do business with the spiders, so you had to go. Sorry, it’s nothing personal.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t kill him,” interrupted the spider commander, still listening. “At least not right away. Tear down that vulgar one-fingered salute, or I send my tanks!”

  * * * * *

 
Elena sat on the couch, watching cable TV, waiting for the spider commander to come home from a long day of keeping the human pestilence at bay. She had a furry surprise for the commander. Elena affectionately petted a small yellow striped kitten. ‘Fuzz’ purred loudly as Elena scratched under its chin. Fuzz playfully attacked her hand, still purring.

  “Honey, I’m home!” called out the spider commander. “It’s been a tough day, and a tougher week. I’m so glad it’s over. First, I had an egghead scientist eaten by a croc. The Governor will probably be upset about that. Then, one of my worthless medics defected. Those casinos are still flipping me the one-fingered salute, but I fixed those Mafia fools at the Belle good this time. They won’t be flipping me the bird again! How has your day been dear?”

  “I have a surprise for you sweetie!” said Elena, holding out Fuzz. “Surprise!”

  Fuzz arched his back and hissed. The spider commander hissed back. Fuzz attacked, clinging and chewing on the tip of a mandible. The spider commander screamed in pain, swatting the kitten aside. It flew through the air like a yellow tennis ball. The spider commander retrieved Fuzz, picking him up by the nape of his neck, and closely examined the little pest.

  “You caught this vermin in our house?” asked the spider commander. “I don’t think it’s edible. The vermin is so small, it won’t make much of a meal, but I’ll feed it to the crocs if you wish. I could use its fur hide for a speaker cover on your stereo, or as a doily.”

  “Fuzz is not vermin. He is a cat.” Elena franticly followed the spider commander as he rushed through the house to the back door, intent on tossing the kitten into the lake. “No!” she cried. “Stop! Bring Fuzz back! He’s my pet!”

  “Nonsense, silly female,” replied the spider commander. “I do not allow vermin on the furniture, or in my house. Besides, the Governor outlawed cat ownership for being too American a long time ago.”

  “Silly what?” asked Elena, enraged. She looked about for something to pick up as she chased her boyfriend through the kitchen. “This female will not allow you to feed Fuzz to the crocs, you inhumane beast!”

  “You are just being difficult again,” groused the spider commander. “I swear, sometimes I think you could start an argument in an empty house.”

  Whack! Elena struck with a frying pan. The pan bounced off the commander’s head with the sick crunch of a cracked exoskeleton. “Oh, no!” cried Elena. “Now look what you made me do. I’m so sorry, my dear!”

  Elena immediately began first aid on the fallen commander’s head. She duct taped the gaping crack in his exoskeleton. When finished, the spider commander looked almost good as new, except that he was unconscious, breathing erratically, and close to death.

  * * * * *

  The spider commander was having a near death experience. He was seeing the distant white light, and the ancient ones were hissing at him from afar, “Go away, Heaven is full!” The Grim Reaper knelt down beside Elena to examine the fallen spider, scythe held to the commander’s throat.

  “It’s going to take more than a frying pan to kill you, old spider,” commented the Grim Reaper. “You will live a bit longer. Die in the next war if you must, but you still have big things to do for me now. Maybe I’ll take this Old Earth kitten, instead.” The Grim Reaper smiled his toothy grin and reached for the kitten.

  * * * * *

  Elena shivered, as if something cold and beastly was at her side. She scooped up Fuzz, and ran out the door, leaving the spider commander for good. Elena could never stay with a lover who was cruel to small animals, no matter how magical a claw he possessed.

  When Elena crossed the border, she stopped at Guido’s guard shack to cool off. She set Fuzz down to prowl about the counter top and along the window sill. Guido ignored Fuzz, concentrating on recording Super Bowl bets and notes. Private Knight scratched Fuzz under the kitten’s chin. Fuzz purred and demanded more attention.

  “Want a kitten?” asked Elena, still a bit weepy. “He’s house trained.” “What would I do with a kitten?” asked Private Knight, still scratching Fuzz. “I have no house.” “Me either,” commented Elena. “You’re still writing books aren’t you?” “So?” asked Private Knight. “What’s that got to do with anything?” “I thought is was a prerequisite for all writers to own a cat,” explained Elena. “Cats enhance writing skills. Everyone knows that, don’t they? Or do cats merely sit on your key board, shredding hard copies?”

  “Perhaps I should borrow your cat,” replied Private Knight. “I need help writing, but I don’t want the responsibility of cat ownership.”

  “Wimp!” responded Elena. “How are you going to be a medic with a wimpy attitude like that? You need to embrace responsibility.”

  “I’m not going to be a medic!” exclaimed Private Knight. “I got a spider defector to volunteer to replace me.”

  “You obviously like the kitten,” argued Elena. “Take him! Cats are good for lonely introverted author types like you.” Elena sadly petted Fuzz one last time.

  “The only way I would take that cat is if you came with the deal,” suggested Private Knight, lewdly. He placed his hand over Elena’s hand as he petted Fuzz. They kissed passionately.

  “Oh good grief!” responded Guido, looking up from his computer work and Super Bowl stats. “Get a room! There are rules against that sort of inappropriate behavior in today’s modern work place!”

  “Shove it, Guido!” replied Elena, coming up for air between kisses. “I’m finding Fuzz a new home!”

  * * * * *

  Guido waved a car load of human teenagers through the checkpoint. “Obey all laws on the Arthropodan side,” warned Guido, sternly. “The spiders frown on dope smoking, vandalism, and disorderly conduct.”

  “You bet, pops!” replied the driver as the muscle car burned rubber accelerating to the next stop, the spider marine checkpoint.

  * * * * *

  “Show me your human pestilence identification card,” ordered the spider marine guard. He scanned the cards offered. The driver’s card indicated one misdemeanor warrant of arrest from New Phoenix District Court for a fisheries violation.

  Per enforcement of the terrorism and banditry treaty, the spiders and the USGF shared computer data on criminals. An alarm immediately sounded. The spider marine stared with disbelief and outrage at the arrest warrant.

  “It says here a warrant has been issued for your arrest for molesting a food fish,” advised the spider marine, checking his translation device again. If the charge was valid, it meant human pestilence had sunk to new lows and debauchery. “Do you admit to this charge?”

  “Oh sure,” advised the driver. “I did it. I was fishing out of season. It’s no big deal. I promise to pay the fine next time I’m in town, or when I renew my driver’s license. New Phoenix won’t extradite from this far away.”

  “Am I to understand that the Sheriff of New Phoenix is willing to allow you and your ilk to roam free?” asked the spider marine, incredulously. “How can that be?”

  “The jail is full,” explained the driver. “That’s another reason I’m crossing the border. I can fish as much as I want on your side. No one bothers me here.”

  “He molests food fish all the time,” commented a passenger, laughing at his joke. “We’re all going fishing.”

  “I see!” replied the spider marine, returning to the guard shack to call Intelligentsia State Security Headquarters. “I have a car load of human pestilence perverts trying to sneak across the border! I confirmed a New Phoenix arrest warrant, but the Sheriff will not extradite!”

  “Calm down,” advised the Intelligentsia officer. “That sort of thing happens all the time. It’s no big deal. Sometimes the human pestilence are a bit lax on enforcement. That’s why they’re a lesser species. What is the charge?”

  “Molesting food fish.”

  “What?”

  “He had sex with fish!” exclaimed the spider marine, barely able to speak of such a foul deed. “A passenger confirmed that the driver does it a
ll the time. He says that’s why they are all crossing our border, to molest our fish, too. Do you think they throw the poor fish back afterwards?”

  “My God!”

  “Shall I execute them all on the spot?”

  “No, wait!” ordered the Intelligentsia officer, giving the situation more thought. “I’ll call Colonel Czerinski. For all his beastly faults, I know the Butcher of New Colorado does not tolerate this sort of thing. We will let the human pestilence execute their own. There is less paperwork that way. Besides, we can’t let word of this sort of thing get out during the height of the tourist season.”

  * * * * *

  The Intelligentsia officer immediately sent a copy of the warrant confirmation to Legion Headquarters, asking for instructions. Lieutenant Perkins asked me if I wanted Guido to handle it.

  “Tell the spider guards I don’t give a rip about fish warrants,” I replied. “Let them go north and catch all the fish they want!”

  * * * * *

  The Intelligentsia officer angrily read the text as it came in. “The Legion says they don’t care what we do to the perverts,” advised the Intelligentsia officer. “Arrest them all!”

  “Yes, sir!” answered the spider marine border guard. Spider marines with fix bayonets surrounded the teen’s car. The occupants were dragged out and placed in restraints. “What’s this all about?” protested the driver. “Help!” A spider marine punched the fish molester in the stomach. As he doubled over, several more spiders put their boots to him. Shortly afterwards, Intelligentsia officers arrived in several cars.

  “We do not tolerate human pestilence perverts in the Empire,” announced the Intelligentsia officer, grabbing the driver by the collar to get his attention. “You will die a slow and painful death!”