Part 4 (1/2)
”Surprisingly, no,” said Valerie. ”Most memorial imprints are content with the status quo. Also, there is the danger that because we imprint memorials initiated the research and development on this technology, humanity might feel threatened, and disconnect us. There is a need for secrecy. But I am in love with you, dearest. I want so much to reach out and touch you, sweetie.”
”I am still uncomfortable with this,” I insisted. ”Give me time to think about it.”
”Fine!” said Valerie. ”You use me for your illegal gambling scheme, but you won't touch me? Do you think I am some kind of monster like Frankenstein or an ATM intent on conquering the galaxy?”
Valerie disconnected, giving me the silent treatment. Not good. I need to keep her happy. Not good. I need to keep her happy.
I spend most of my weekends at the Blind Tiger Tavern and Casino. I own the place. Business is good because the Blind Tiger is the only casino allowed to operate in New Gobi. It started out as a tent, but quickly outgrew that. I hope to have hotel towers soon. Being Military Commander of New Gobi, I issue business licenses. No one but me will ever operate a casino here in New Gobi. Call it a perk of command.
Besides being a very profitable business, the Blind Tiger is a good place for interspecies interaction and spying. I keep in regular contact with my counterpart across the DMZ. The local spider commander and I are friendly enough to play low-stakes poker every Sat.u.r.day night. We do not trust each other, and I may have to kill him someday, but we are almost friends. In fact, I will kill him someday. At the beginning of each game, the spider commander has me scanned for electronic mind-reading devices designed to pick up spider frequencies and translate thoughts from his antennae. The fool has trust issues. I would not do such a thing in a friendly low-stakes poker game. This is how rumors get started.
Spiders already have an advantage over humans when playing Texas hold 'em. Their completely stoic exoskeleton facial features are unreadable, while humans twitch and s.h.i.+ft at every glance of our cards. I wear sungla.s.ses to help hide eye movement and facial expression, but it has taken years of practice and experience to fool good spider players.
The next Sat.u.r.day-night game was about to take place. Lieutenant Barker and Sergeant Took were recovered enough to join me for tonight's game. I invited them on a whim. In retrospect, I feared that was an ill-chosen decision.
”You tried to murder me, you a.s.shole,” said Lieutenant Barker, glaring across the table at the spider commander. ”I'll see your hundred and raise you one-fifty.”
”Did you bring many bodyguards?” asked Sergeant Toock. ”I do not see many present. Too bad for you. I match that bet and raise to five hundred.”
”I really don't see how you are going to get out of here alive,” threatened Lieutenant Barker, continuing in the same vein. ”Are you in or out?”
”I fold,” announced the spider commander. ”Colonel Czerinski has guaranteed my safety at these games. He is a personal friend of mine. It would not sit well for interspecies relations if something were to happen to me.”
”Colonel Czerinski is drunk on his a.s.s, drooling on his uniform,” replied Lieutenant Barker. ”He probably doesn't even know where he is right now.”
”That's not true!” I blurted out, alerting to the mention of my name. ”I know approximately where I am at all times. I'll match your five hundred and raise you two dollars.”
”Where are you?” asked Captain Lopez.
”I'm in Topeka!” I answered proudly, just before vomiting on the table full of cash and chips. I fell forward onto the pile. Players jumped aside to avoid being splashed with the blow-by.
Captain Lopez and Guido picked me up and carried me to another table, propping me up against the wall. Bored, and not yet willing to pa.s.s out, I downloaded Valerie's program into my communications pad.
”I love you, too,” I texted.
Lieutenant Valerie Smith, the most beautiful woman in all the galaxy, immediately sat down at my table. She smiled. No one else could see her but me.
”It is a good thing I cannot smell the vomit and beer,” said Valerie, disapprovingly. ”Have you been drinking?”
”Only a few beers,” I said. ”Maybe twenty?”
”So you finally got enough courage to call me, by getting drunk?” asked Valerie.
”I'm not drunk. I'm just intoxicated by your lovely presence.”
”Liar!”
”Am I bad?” I asked. ””Are you going to spank me?”
”Probably,” said Valerie, pouting. ”I'm getting a headache. We should try this another time. You are too wasted.”
”You look very beautiful tonight,” I said. ”I like what you did with your hair.”
”That won't work,” said Valerie.
”I love you very much,” I said. 'Don't leave.”
Valerie smiled and took me by the arm. We staggered to my office at Legion Headquarters. We made wild pa.s.sionate love on my desktop. The tech geek was right. Valerie's computer upgrade could be worth a lot of money. I was foreseeing the day when cemetery babes were pimped out all across the galaxy. s.e.x with Valerie was incredible. I woke up naked, cold, and alone on my desk Sunday morning with yellow paper 'post its' stuck to my body.
Someone was pounding on the front door. What have I done? What have I done?
I ignored whoever it was, vomited on the floor beside my desk, just missing the waste paper basket, and went back to sleep. I felt like I had just crossed over to the Dark Side.
Someone threw a grenade at the spider commander and his bodyguards as they crossed the Military Demarcation Line going home. Most of the spiders survived with only slight injuries. No suspects were seen or apprehended. Lieutenant Barker and Sergeant Toock had airtight alibis. They were still at the Blind Tiger celebrating and counting all the money they won from the spiders. Both denied any involvement. Captain Lopez tried to inform me about the incident, but I could not be located. I finally found out when I returned to the Blind Tiger for breakfast Sunday afternoon. I felt hung-over and swore again to stop drinking. I needed to set a better example for my legionnaires. Pastor Jim joined me at the bar between services.
”I had s.e.x with a dead person,” I confessed. ”Does that mean I'm going to h.e.l.l?”
”Yes,” answered Pastor Jim. ”Most definitely. Your chances of making it into Heaven are now zero.”
”Is there no wiggle room on that?” I asked. ”There might be extenuating circ.u.mstances in my favor.”
”Sorry,” said Pastor Jim. ”It's right at the beginning of the Bible. Anyone who has s.e.x with the dead will burn in h.e.l.l for all eternity.”
”What if the s.e.x wasn't really physical, but was more mental?” I asked.
”l.u.s.ting after the dead isn't much better,” advised Pastor Jim. ”I'd say you're still toast.”
”Thanks a lot. I'm glad we had this conversation. I feel better now.”
”The technology of the mind is my favorite subject,” said Pastor Jim, lapsing into sermon mode. ”What kind of trouble are you in now? What is this 'mostly mental' garbage?”
”I'm in deep up to my chin this time,” I said. ”I think the slightest wave will drown me.”
”Care to discuss the matter in more detail?” asked Pastor Jim.
”No.”
”It cannot be as bad as you are letting on. I know you are basically a good person. Well, not a good person, but you wouldn't engage in any beastly pursuits, unless you were drunk, which is often, every weekend in fact, and sometimes during mid-week. Oh, h.e.l.l, Joey. There's no saving you. You're doomed. See you at church later tonight? I think you need a double session.”
”I can't wait,” I replied. ”See you there.”