Part 2 (2/2)
”ATM? No. I have no use for money. I have my own pension money that I use to decorate my tombstone on holidays, but I have no need of an ATM.”
”Are you a spy for the spiders?” I asked. ”Are you with the insurgency?” How could I be so stupid to allow a virus to sucker me? How could I be so stupid to allow a virus to sucker me? I thought. I thought.
”Lover, I am an imprint memorial of Lieutenant Valerie Smith, United States Marine Corps. How dare you accuse me of being a traitor! I gave my life for my country!”
”I'm sorry,” I texted again. ”I need to be cautious. The spiders are very sneaky. I don't want to catch a virus.”
”Then use a condom!” suggested Valerie.
”What?” I asked. ”You have a one-track mind.”
”And this comment comes from a man? You contacted me first. Remember?”
”I have to go,” I said. ”My world is calling me.”
”Please do not go for long. Remember to tell the medics that if you die, you want to be frozen so a memorial imprint can be manufactured. Then we can be together forever in Arlington.”
”LOL,” I texted. ”Sorry, Val. The Legion fights on the Frontier. There will be no freezing of my brain here on New Colorado. Bye, babe.”
”Bye, sweetie. I will miss my handsome brave legionnaire lover. Hugs and smooches.”
”I want to borrow five million dollars,” I said.
”You are reenlisting again?” asked the ATM. ”Great! You are making a wise decision, Colonel Czerinski. You have been one of my most important and productive legionnaire recruits. I see a promotion to general in your future. I am so proud of your accomplishments.”
”Shut up, fool,” I said. ”Give me the five million dollars, and I'll be done with you. It's just a short-term loan. I'll pay it back in one year.”
”You had better,” said the ATM, printing out the necessary loan contract, including fine print. ”As you already know, if you fail to repay the loan on time, your enlistment will be extended ten years, and I will garnish your death benefits, if it ever comes to that.”
”Whatever,” I said.
”What are you going to do with the money?” asked the ATM. ”It is my understanding that you are already quite wealthy.”
”I am going to hi-jack a rainbow and crash into a pot of gold,” I said, as the ATM scanned my card.
”Oh? That means you are going to gamble it away again. You really should consider counseling for your gambling problem.”
””I have a line on a sure thing,” I boasted.
”I might be interested in some of your action,” commented the ATM. ”I have noticed that in spite of your obvious gambling addiction, sometimes you get lucky. Tell me about your sure thing.”
”All I have to do is keep Lieutenant Laika Barker alive for one year,” I explained. ”New Memphis bookies have promised to take all the action I throw their way, as long as Barker stays on a.s.signment in the New Gobi Desert.”
”You plan to bet five million dollars?” asked the ATM.
”No,” I said. ”I am betting ten million dollars. At last check, the odds were even money. I am hoping the line increases once word gets out about Barker's past.”
”The odds have already changed to ten-to-one,” advised the ATM. ”The word is already out. But it may be too late. Lieutenant Barker may have been killed in action minutes ago in Window Rock. Initial reports are just now coming in. I will know more as the medical helicopters arrive with wounded.”
”No!” I yelled. ”He can't die yet!”
”If you want, I will place the bets for you as soon as I verify Lieutenant Barker survived,” said the ATM.
”Place the bet now, while the odds are still high,” I ordered. ”Will any New Memphis bookie accept a ten million dollar bet at ten to one odds?”
”The bookies are insured and bonded by a large intergalactic cartel,” advised the ATM. ”They can easily take your action and pay off if you win. Of course, they might not be happy with you. And the obvious conflict of interest might prevent the wager from being approved, and cause you untold legal issues.”
”Place the bet in the name of Lieutenant Valerie Smith, U.S. Marine Corps retired,” I said.
”According to database records, Lieutenant Smith is dead, not retired,” said the ATM. ”This is highly irregular. What is your relations.h.i.+p with Lieutenant Smith's estate?”
”Valerie is my tax shelter. And she solves the conflict of interest issue.”
”It is done,” said the ATM. ”The bet is placed and accepted.”
I sent an explanation of my scheme to Valerie, and she agreed to help.
”This is almost like having a shared checking account,” said Valerie. ”It's like being married, but without the s.e.x.”
”Married?” I asked. ”No. This is business.”
”Let me have my fantasies,” texted Valerie. ”I want you inside me, lover.”
”You're sounding too easy,” I said. ”Cool it.”
”Are you calling me a s.l.u.t?” asked Valerie. ”I can be anything you want me to me. I'll be your s.l.u.t any day.”
”NO!” I typed. ”STOP THAT!”
”You do not have to yell,” texted Valerie. ”I am crying again. See what you caused? I am not so sure I want to do business with you anymore.”
”Okay, I'm sorry again,” I typed frantically. ”Honey, you are right. I'm just a bit stressed. The prospect of a hundred million dollar payoff is very romantic. In fact, it's so hot, I'm about to pop a cork. I just want to make your computer chips so HOT, you will need to install a new fan and add more ceramic insulation. Oh, baby!”
”Sweetie, you can overheat my circuits anytime,” gushed Valerie. ”Let me help handle your stress mmm!”
”My world is calling me,” I said. ”A legionnaire colonel's work is never done. Bye, babe.”
”Your world calls you too often,” pouted Valerie. ”Can't you delegate the fighting to someone else?”
”I did,” I said. ”But now I have wounded coming in by helicopter. I'll download you some pictures so you can appreciate what it is like here on the Frontier.”
”I'm sorry,” said Valerie. ”I understand. Hugs and smooches.”
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