America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 22: Blue Powder War by Walter Knight Page A

its claws been removed?”
    “Claws? Oh hell!”
    “Stay calm,” continued Ceausescu soothingly. “If you panic, the gerbil might claw and chew its way through your intestines and out your penis.”
    “I am staying calm!”
    “Is there only one gerbil?”
    “Is two at a time even possible?”
    “Gerbils run in packs,” warned Ceausescu. “Are drugs involved?”
    “The gerbil might be covered with a psychoactive substance.”
    “Blue powder?”
    “Yes.”
    “What a putz,” Ceausescu grumbled with a sigh. “Males of all species are such pigs.”
    “Now, see here. How do I get this ungodly vermin out of my rectal passageway?”
    “First, obtain a butt-light.”
    “Did you say a Bud Light?” asked the Emperor incredulously. “The King of Beers?”
    “No, an LED butt-light. They’re on sale on Amazon.com for situations just like yours. Try to buy a new butt-light. Used ones stink. Duct tape the butt-light to your poop-chute entrance. Turn off all room lights and turn on the butt-light. Lie still on your stomach. The gerbil will see the light at the end of the tunnel, and hopefully will come out. Play reassuring gerbil-friendly music. I suggest Disney themes such as ‘It’s a Small World After All’ and the ‘Mickey Mouse Song.’ You know, M-I-C, K-E-Y, M-O-U-S-E! Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse!”
    “Stop. I get it.”
    “Disney music is also available at Amazon.com. Mention my name, and you get a Legion discount.”
    “Thank you very much, Medic Ceausescu. The Imperial Family is in your debt. I grant you and Colonel Czerinski safe passage across the DMZ. Czerinski’s crimes against the galaxy are pardoned for now, as long as Old-Claw and his idiot family are returned safely.”
    “They will be,” I assured, listening. “Feel free to call upon the Legion or me personally at any time, should gerbils invade your inner sanctum again.”
    “Not likely, we are enemies forever!” replied the Emperor. “I expect diplomacy to prevail, and this medical situation to be kept confidential. It’s the law.”
    “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m sure keeping drug-crazed butt-crawling gerbils a secret is covered by diplomatic protocol somewhere. I think it’s even in the Constitution.”
    “Exactly. Do not let world-famous science fiction writer Walter Knight get wind of this matter, either. That long-beaked human pestilence snitch would put me in his next book if he found out. His pulp fiction sci-fi trash is out of control. I am banning all Knight’s books from the Empire.”
    “Yes, Your Majesty. I don’t blame you. How Private Knight’s books ever got past Mars is beyond me. Don’t worry. In the Legion, we don’t ask, don’t tell about gerbils.”
    “Good. Also, I applaud you for keeping alien artifacts from the evil clutches of drug dealers. I expect you to comply with provisions of the Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty, and allow joint inspection of the alien artifacts in your custody. Your President, General Daly, and my district commander are already on board with my request for full disclosure. Do you understand, Colonel?”
    “Yes, Your Majesty.”
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 15
     
    I used a GPS microchip embedded long ago to track Hargundu, the AWOL Legion camel. Hargundu traveled to the eastern foothills, trying to blend in with a herd of wild burros. When I caught up, I tried to make friends by offering apple slices and carrots, but some camels hold a grudge forever. I had Medic Ceausescu give Hargundu an examination.
    Hargundu loved the attention, nuzzling her like a lost puppy. Ceausescu gave Hargundu a haircut, filed his hooves, vaccinated for whipworms, sprayed for sand mites, provided vitamins, and brushed his teeth. He was a new camel.
    “Listen up,” I said, beginning the interrogation when Ceausescu finished. “Technically, I should shoot you for desertion, but that would be too good for you. Lead me to the lost alien starship, and I’ll give you an honorable discharge. Refuse, and