Randal Telk and the 396 Steps to Sexual Bliss (17 page)

“
Right next to me,
”
advised Colonel Custer.
“
You will lead the way.
”

“
Is that so?
”
asked Shitting Bull, incredulous.
“
Did I mention there are one hundred thousand Indians, including the mighty Muckleshoot?
”

“
Having second thoughts about fighting your own kind?
”
asked Colonel Custer.
“
You
’
re a half-breed, but raised renegade.
How
’
s that make you feel?
”

“
It makes me feel we might be outnumbered.
We should call for backup.
What
’
s your Plan-B?
”

“
I
’
ll be President someday,
”
boasted Colonel Custer.
“
Stick with me kid, and you
’
ll have
a
cool job in my administration.
”

“
Are you a Democrat or Republican?
”
asked Shitting Bull.

“
Democrat.
I
’
ll have Grant
’
s job
,
if it
’
s the last thing I do.
”

“
Now I know your plan won
’
t work,
”
complained Shitting Bull.
“
Democrats don
’
t know the
i
r ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to managing a war.
”

That night Shitting Bull slipped out of camp, leaving Colonel Custer to his fate and destiny.
Shitting Bull made his way to Canada
–
aye
!
–
but it was fucking freezing up there.
After the bottom fell out of the frozen magic mushroom market, Shitting Bull drifted west to California where he invented surfing, became a movie star, and married Yolanda, a porn star from East LA, and lived happily ever after.

Chapter 15

After a thorough medical examination, Private Randal Telk was referred to Legion psychologist Captain Priscilla Percy for counseling.
Perhaps the stress of his wife being abducted by aliens was aggravating an increasingly alarming detachment from reality.
Telk was going crazy.

“
X-rays show multiple concussions,
”
advised Captain Percy, checking medical charts.
“
Did you know part of your personnel file has been deleted?
”

“
No, ma
’
am.
”

“
There is no record of your home town.
Where are you from?
”

“
I can
’
t remember,
”
cried Private Telk.
“
My memory is all jumbled together.
I remember calling a lot of places home, but I can
’
t remember which memory is real.
”

“
Do you remember your parents?
”

“
I think they were gypsies.
The Legion gave me a new life, one with stability.
You
’
re not supposed to ask me that question.
”

“
But don
’
t you want to know what is real or not?
”

“
Maybe not.
”

“
What do you think is real?
Where do you think you came from?
”

“
My daydreams seem so real
,
it could be anywhere, even antiquity.
”

“
You suspect you are a time traveler?
You believe time travel is possible?
”

“
Do you?
”

“
I asked first,
”
pressed Captain Percy.
“
Stop being evasive.
I
’
m only trying to help.
”

“
I
’
m not a science
-
fiction fan,
”
explained Telk.
“
So time travel is probably just a pipe dream.
”

“
Do you keep a diary?
”

“
I have always recorded my thoughts in a journal on my communications pad.
”

“
May I see your journal?
”

“
Sorry, but all entries are encrypted and sealed until my enlistment expires.
I cannot even read it.
”

“
How long have you kept a journal?
”

“
I
’
m not sure.
It
’
s fuzzy.
Forever, I guess.
Maybe I started when I enlisted.
”

“
You did the encryption yourself?
”

“
I can
’
t remember for sure,
”
answered Telk, shrugging.
“
Maybe.
Probably not.
”

“
What is the
three-hundred-ninety-six
steps to sexual bliss?
”
whispered Captain Percy, placing a hand on Telk
’
s knee.
“
Are the steps real?
Is Randal
’
s Big Bang Theory real, too?
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am.
That part is all real.
”

“
Are you happily married?
”
asked Captain Percy, crossing her legs, shifting moist in her chair.
“
I am told your wife was abducted by spider terrorists.
Is it possible she left you willingly.
”

“
That
’
s nonsense!
”

“
How do you relieve sexual tension?
”

“
Ma
’
am?
That
’
s kind of personal.
”

“
Do you cheat on your wife?
”
asked Captain Percy
, sounding
hopeful.
“
If you do cheat, I fully understand.
I will not think poorly of you.
After all, your wife has been gone a long time.
”

“
No!
I would never cheat on Elena!
”

“
Do you ever fantasize about cheating
?
Do you lust in your heart
for other women
?
Is that how your daydreams start?
Is that why you can
’
t deal with reality?
”

“
I can deal with reality just fine!
”
argued Telk, pulling a compact package from his pouch.
“
I have a blow-up sheep I borrowed from Private Krueger.
It even makes exciting sheep noises.
Her name is Yolanda.
”

“
What?
That
’
s disgusting!
”
shouted Captain Percy, abruptly removing her hand from Telk
’
s knee.
“
Get out, farm boy!
You
’
re just another of Colonel Czerinski
’
s disgusting inbred swarm of reprehensible degenerate spawns of Hell.
This interview is concluded!
”

“
My unit just got back from Hell.
We burned it down.
You can still see the smoke from here.
”

“
Get out!
”

“
Does that mean I
’
m cured?
Don
’
t I get any medication?
Czerinski promised you
’
d give me the good stuff.
”

“
I am recommending euthanasia for the lot of you Legion perverts!
”

“
Euthanasia?
I
’
ve never been there, but I hear the Eiffel Tower is cool.
Have you ever been to France?
”

“
I said get out!
”

As Private Telk wandered out of Captain Percy’s office, his thoughts drifted to Europe...

* * * * *

The year was 1917
,
and the Allied war effort against Germany was not going well.
Tzarist Russia fell, the Italians were thinking of switching sides, and the English were mired in the muddy trenches of France.
Worst of all, the German Air Force led by the Bloody Red Baron, ruled the skies over Europe.

However, America was coming to the rescue, bringing certain promised secret weapons.
Tanks were rolling off the assembly line
in
answer to the costly trench warfare stalemate.
American ace Lieutenant Randal Telk, guided by GPS, led an American squadron of advanced biplanes to fight the Bloody Red Baron.

Overconfident, the Bloody Red Baron arrogantly painted his triplane red to brag to the world of his many kills.
Lieutenant Telk easily identified the Bloody Red Baron from the approaching swarm of German planes.
Both sides increased altitude to gain advantage.
Vastly outnumbered, the Americans kept a tight formation as they closed on the Germans.
Lieutenant Telk wagged his wings to signal the attack.

The Americans fired a massive volley of the latest Legion air-to-air heat
-
seeking missiles.
In minutes
,
the massacre was complete.
Hundreds of enemy planes fell from the sky.
Only the Bloody Red Baron survived, fleeing east with Lieutenant Telk on his tail.
Lieutenant Telk had one more missile, but savored the moment a bit longer.
All of Lieutenant Telk
’
s dreams of glory and victory were coming true.

“
Curse you, Bloody Red Baron!
”
shouted Lieutenant Telk, giving the
one-finger
ed salute as he launched the missile.
“
Let your death be a lesson to all who dare fuck with America, and to all your Nazi bastards next time!
”

The missile hit home, sending the Bloody Red Baron to a spiraling fiery death.
The great Allied air victory reversed German gains, forcing the Hun back to Germany, and ending the war to end all wars.

* * * * *

Corporal Tonelli was waiting for Private Telk as he left the consultation with Captain Percy.
Telk seemed depressed, so Tonelli tried to cheer him up.

“
What happened?
Did that whack-job shrink read you the riot act, too?
We
’
ve all been through it.
”

“
She thinks I
’
m a degenerate because I have feelings for Yolanda,
”
explained Telk, patting his pouch.
“
And she called us Czerinski
’
s spawn from Hell.
”

“
Did she prescribe any drugs?
”
asked Tonelli, not wanting to discuss Yolanda.

“
No, only a vacation to Euthanasia.
”

“
What a quack!
”
complained Tonelli, disappointed.
“
What good is a shrink if she won
’
t prescribe the good stuff?
”

“
I
’
ll be fine once we rescue Elena.
”

“
I just want you to know we
’
re all pulling for you and Elena,
”
advised Tonelli, averting eye contact.
“
Hey
,
man, I
’
m sorry Spot keeps chewing on your boot.
It just means he likes you.
We all like you.
You
’
re one of us now.
We got your back.
”

“
Thanks, Guido.
”

* * * * *

Despondent, Private Telk thought about going AWOL, becoming an outlaw on the DMZ Frontier.
Desertion from the Legion was a capital offense, but what was the point of going on if he could not share his life with Elena
?
Let the Legion follow the tracking chip embedded in his ass.
What did Telk care?
At least for a short while
,
Telk could control his own destiny.

But he knew it was not so easy to just walk away – not in a
world of computers, face and body language recognition technology, DNA analysis, galactic extradition treaties, and the Intergalactic Database
. He’d have to change his entire identity, and that was no easy feat. The more he thought about skipping out, the more he
longed for simpler times, although he doubted it was ever easy to
‘
just get away
’
...

* * * * *

Randal Tucson Telk
breezed into the
W
ild
W
est town of Rio Linda
.
To kill time
,
Telk sat down in a
t
avern for a game of five
-
card
-
draw poker.

Mean as a rattlesnake,
Telk
was
wanted on Salt Lake City warrants for murder, robbery, assault, mayhem, and debauchery.
Telk suspected the trumped
-
up debauchery charge had something to do with sheep or seagulls.
Mormons ha
d
no sense of humor when it came to defiling their state bird.
Odd folk.

Telk
was dealt a pair of aces and eights
–
the dead man
’
s hand!
Without hesitation
,
Telk shot the dealer.
“
No one cheats me!
”
announced Telk, motioning for another player to deal.
“
I
’
m feeling lucky.
”

On the next hand
,
everyone folded.
Telk nonchalantly scratched his thigh by his gun, a warning for the players to keep playing, and keep losing.
After a couple hands, a cowboy burst in
to
the bar with news about a lawman com
ing
to town.
“
Was a Utah ranger, said he won
’
t be in town too long, come to kill a pervert from Tucson with his .50
-
cal Desert Eagle semi-automatic Israeli manufactured pistol,
”
warned the cowboy.
“
Y
’
all better beat feet!
”

Telk shot the cowboy.
“
I hate snitches!
What was that about a bad-ass Utah ranger?
”

No one answered.

“
He
’
ll be just another notch on my pistol!
”
boasted Telk, firing a round into the ceiling.
Someone upstairs screamed.
“
I can
’
t be killed.
Lot of men have tried, a lot of men have died!
”

“
Come on out!
”
shouted the Utah ranger from the street.
“
Or are you chicken?
”

“
Nobody calls me chicken!
”
replied Telk, peeking past the swinging doors.
“
You
’
re going to meet your
m
aker today, lawman!
”

It was straight up noon when Telk walked out on the street.
Folks watched from the windows, everybody held their breath.
They knew this Utah ranger was about to meet his death.
A flock of trained attack seagulls with the sun to their back swooped down on Telk, bombarding him with shit from Heaven.
Distracted, Telk had not cleared leather when the ranger made his play.
Telk was shot five times in the chest.
Everyone
could see day through those holes.

The swiftness of the ranger
wa
s still debated at Rio Linda City Council meetings.
A mural of the shootout
hung
at the Rio Linda Courthouse
. T
he ACLU filed a lawsuit complaining that the bloody depiction intimidate
d
defendants and jurors
, and the case was
pending
in t
he United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit.

* * * * *

Private Telk checked his communications pad.
The Powerball was up to three billion dollars.
The whole battalion was abuzz about the Powerball, it had never been so high.
He wondered if he s
hould pick his favorite numbers, or let the computer choose
.
Never trust a computer.
Telk used his birthda
y
, age, and Elena
’
s birthd
a
y
.

Telk was determined that winning the three billion dollars would not change him in the least.
He acted casual, keeping his normal routine, deciding to tell no one
if
he won, not even Elena, until he actually had the money in his hand.
Bad things happened to lottery winners who blabbed about all that money.

Meanwhile, he decided
some precautions needed to be taken because of how others would react.
Go
l
d
-
diggers were everywhere.
Winners were robbed, killed, relationships ruined, leeching neighbors and relatives came out of the woodwork, some even went bankrupt.
Telk calculated that the cost of hiring
twenty-four-seven
security would be enormous!

A smart winner would plan for all contingencies.
First and foremost,
don
’
t loose the ticket.
There were so many ways a lottery ticket could get destroyed or lost.
Keep it dry by putting the ticket in a
sealed
plastic bag, and stay out of the rain.
Telk glanced up at the clear blue New Gobi sky.
Good, no rain in sight.
He
decided to
avoid laundries, sunlight, coworkers, roommates, spills, and pets.
Telk eyed Spot suspiciously.
That dragon might try to eat my lottery ticket!