Mission: Earth Villainy Victorious

by Ron L. Hubbard

  With a shattering roar of takeoffs, the street was empty except for pedestrians collapsed upon the walks.

  Then people began to run out of the building and out of the shops. They looked around. They stared at the sky in horror. A woman began to scream.

  Madison had the cameraman fade out on the crushed bouquet. It looked as though the battered flowers bled.

  He was grinning. It had been carried live, as a special, over all Homeview.

  It was on the streets in an hour:

  HIGHTEE ARRESTED

  BY HISST

  Madison had it all scheduled. Later papers would carry that her whereabouts was unknown, later ones would headline the beginning of the riots, tomorrow it would be:

  BILLIONS MOURN

  Madison now had other things to do.

  Chapter 5

  For three days, the Gris trial took second place. For all three of those days Madison had been beaming a message to Calabar. The message had been carried on all military wavelengths: these were known to be monitored by the rebels. The message, over and over, had said:

  JETTERO HELLER. ON THURSDAY MORNING YOUR SISTER, HIGHTEE HELLER, WILL BE AT HERO PLAZA, GOVERNMENT CITY, VOLTAR. IF YOU DO NOT LAND THERE AND GIVE YOURSELF UP, AT NOON SHE WILL BE SHOT. LOMBAR HISST, DICTATOR OF THE CONFEDERACY.

  On Wednesday night, Madison leaked it to the papers. On Thursday morning it was being carried throughout the Confederacy.

  Orders were crackling on every Apparatus, Domestic Police and Army line to control and suppress riots.

  Hero Plaza is a circular expanse. It is two hundred yards in diameter. There is nothing there but clear pave­ment since it is often used for affairs of state. In the exact center is a completely plain circular pillar fifty feet tall and about twenty feet in circumference, led to by three circular steps. The only decoration or inscription is on the front edge of the top step: it says Dedicated to the Heroes of Voltar. Madison had chosen it carefully.

  Entering the plaza were eight boulevards, usually crammed with traffic. Today each boulevard, at the plaza's edge, was blocked by an Apparatus tank.

  At nine o'clock, Hightee Heller, gowned in white, was taken to the pillar by a Death Battalion squad. She was without her gloves now and the shoulder of the dress was torn. Her golden hair was in disarray but it still looked like a halo.

  Her eyes were calm as she looked at the Apparatus general who, in his red uniform, was directing the squad.

  A camera crew was close to hand, one of the several on duty at the plaza now. Hightee saw the microphone pointing in her direction.

  "Jettero!" she suddenly shouted, "If you are listening, don't come in here! They mean to kill you!"

  The general had acted slightly late. He clamped his beefy hand over Hightee's mouth. At a gesture, three of his squad chased the camera crew away. But Madison, hidden by a tank at the plaza edge, saw that other crews were covering. It was all going live to the whole Confederacy.

  The Death Battalion took a chain. It was twenty feet long and had big links. They clamped one end of it on Hightee's left wrist; they ran the length around the pillar; they fastened the other end to Hightee's right wrist. They made sure the links were solid. She was chained now with her back to the pillar.

  The squad drew back.

  The heavy guns of the eight tanks at the boulevard ends trained around on Hightee.

  Madison grinned. What a tableau! Beauty chained to a pillar. A vast clear area of pavement. Eight deadly muzzles, ringing the plaza, poised for destruction.

  And then things started to go slightly wrong. Possibly the crowds-which, despite roadblocks, had gotten into the boulevards-had been in the grip of unreality. This couldn't possibly be happening: it was too monstrous. But when the Apparatus general had dared to actually touch Hightee to silence her, a roar and mutter had begun to rise.

  There must have been a hundred thousand people in those boulevards. There were only two or three thousand Apparatus troops forming barricades to block them.

  The barricades buckled.

  There was a roar of Apparatus stunguns.

  Missiles flew from the crowd!

  Apparatus troops charged them!

  The Domestic Police were conspicuously absent. The Apparatus knew very little about crowd control.

  For twenty minutes there was hand-to-hand fighting.

  The crowd in three boulevards managed to break through the barricades. The tanks at the plaza end had to swivel their turrets about and fire.

  Then the boulevards were full of stunned and bleeding bodies, civilians and Apparatus alike.

  Two Apparatus relief regiments came in and boxed the mobs in the streets from the far end.

  It was not until 10:20 that some kind of order was restored. But it was not very thorough, for people from the rest of the city were now surging up, and it took three more regiments to hold barricades as far away as a mile in each direction.

  Madison had his eye on the big clock in a tower a thousand yards away. He supposed that Heller would wait until the last minute. At least he hoped so. He had no slightest notion that Heller would surrender. Besides, it would have wrecked his plans.

  That clear space out there, a hundred yards in radius from the pillar where Hightee was chained, was ample for someone like Heller to land troops.

  Madison did not think his own safety was at risk at all, for he didn't think that Heller would use artillery-it would endanger Hightee. Madison's greater worry was himself getting into the cameras: accordingly he was wearing a General Services gray uniform and he had altered his features with makeup and masked them with sand glasses. If any action started, he was going to step through the port of this tank.

  The digitals of the distant clock were flashing second changes. He looked back at the tanks: their muzzles, freed now from crowd control, were pointed back at Hightee.

  She was being pulled against the pillar too tightly by the chain. Her stretched-out arms must be half killing her. Her ripped gown had slid half off her shoulder. But she was looking at the sky.

  Then Madison heard it.

  A sort of booming sound.

  IT WAS DIRECTLY OVERHEAD!

  Madison looked up. For an instant, he could see nothing. Then he glimpsed a blur that was travelling high at some ferocious speed. What was it? Some strange kind of racer?

  His view was suddenly blocked by a swinging gun. The tank was pointing at the sky.

  A cry rose up from the held-back mobs.

  It could only be Heller. But the high ship was going right on by!

  Eight tanks opened up with a bucking, shattering roar. The odd space-racer had already passed. They were firing after it.

  Their shots were going straight through it!

  It must be some sort of an illusion being pushed ahead of a speeding ship!

  It was almost gone. Then suddenly a gun must have detected the actual vessel behind it.

  THERE WAS A HUGE EXPLOSION IN THE SKY!

  A direct hit from a tank!

  Fragments of a ship were black against the blue!

  A shrieking moan came from the crowd. Before their very eyes, the vessel had been shot down!

  Madison glanced across the hundred-yard gap at Hightee. She was weeping.

  Somewhere distant, the remains of the ship crashed, apparently into a warehouse, for flames shot skyward.

  Madison looked at the tanks. He felt that his plans for great PR were gone. He supposed that Heller had been killed. It would make such brief headlines!

  But then he saw a tank officer pointing. The arm was stretched upward.

  A thousand small objects were drifting down out of the blue. They were above this whole area and made a mile-diameter circle of their own.

  They came lower and lower. A tank suddenly opened up to try to shoot at least some of them out of the sky.

  Madison saw a distant one wink.

  Then he had a sudden impression that all the world had turned blue. Painfully, unbearably blue!

&nb
sp; He went unconscious.

  Only because cameras kept running would he find out what happened then.

  It was blueflash. A thousand of them in antigravity holders set to let them drift down. They must have been dropped when the high plane went over and were set to explode a thousand to two hundred feet above the pave­ment.

  Almost every person in a mile diameter was knocked unconscious.

  Then behind them came a larger bomb. It went poof about a hundred feet above the pillar.

  The whole area was swallowed in dense fog.

  Nothing could be seen.

  Then there was the pulsing sound of spaceship drives. That first ship must have been a drone. Heller's had not been touched. There was the thump of a landing in the mist.

  Then the click of airlock latches.

  Heller's voice! Very softly, "Oh, I am so sorry I had to knock you out."

  Shortly another click of latches. Then a throb of drives.

  Half an hour later, Madison came awake.

  The mist was gone.

  There was nothing in the plaza but two broken chains.

  HIGHTEE HAD VANISHED!

  Madison looked at the bare pillar. No, there was something else there now. Something hanging from a pin.

  Madison groggily stumbled forward. He got a camera crew on its feet. He made them go up and shoot the broken chains and then this strange object on the pin.

  It was a cheap excursion ticket. It had been reworked so as to read:

  A ONE-WAY TRIP TO HELL NINE

  FOR LOMBAR HISST

  Madison was ecstatic. He had his headline:

  OUTLAW BROTHER

  RESCUES SISTER

  HIGHTEE SAVED

  JETTERO HELLER

  CONSIGNS

  DICTATOR OF VOLTAR

  TO PERDITION!

  Madison had done it. He had converted Heller into an outlaw that could now be chased by every active unit in the whole Confederacy!

  And the incident of Hero Plaza had started his client on the road to immortality.

  Chapter 6

  "I can't imagine how it happened," said a stunned Lombar in the safety of his dungeon office at Government City. "Heller is still on the loose!"

  "It's simply that people don't realize yet," said Madi­son, "that you mean business. They didn't do the job properly. They let you down."

  "That's true," said Hisst. "I have been too weak. I have tolerated the riffraff too long. Now they are rioting in the streets."

  "Things have gotten up to a point of national emergency," said Madison. "You need people around you you can trust."

  "Trust somebody?" said Lombar, for this was a brand-new idea.

  "I admit that someone like that is pretty rare. But we'll have to do something about these riots before we can get on with our business. I'll be right back."

  Madison went into another room. There were some Army officers there, looking very unhappy. They had come to report trouble in trying to confine the Fleet to their bases.

  Madison said to an elderly colonel, "Who is the most popular general in the whole Army?"

  "That's easy," said the colonel. "General Whip."

  The others nodded.

  "Is he really, truly popular with the Army?" said Madison.

  "Men, officers, everybody," said the colonel. "He wins battles because his troops trust him not to waste their lives. And he's a brilliant strategist. He's over at Army General Staff Headquarters right now. You want to talk to him about this Fleet situation?"

  "Have him come over here right away," said Madi­son.

  Twenty minutes later, General Whip arrived. He was a tough old campaigner but he had a nice smile. His high forehead showed lots of brains.

  Madison's camera crew took some pictures of him. The two logistics men looked him over very carefully.

  Madison then went in and had a word with Lombar.

  He beckoned from the door to General Whip, who en­tered.

  "General," said Lombar, "there is a Fleet officer named Jettero Heller. He has been stirring the people up. He is now an outlaw. I want you to run him down."

  The general smiled, "If you mean Jettero Heller, I'd like to point out that he is a Royal officer. I heard there is a general warrant out for him but courts just won't accept that. If you will give me a Royal order, I will see what I can do."

  Lombar glared at him. "I'll have you know that I am Dictator of Voltar. Heller has forfeited any status he may ever have had. I am ordering you right now to get the entire Army busy and run down this outlaw!"

  General Whip looked Lombar up and down. Then he shrugged and left.

  "I didn't like that," said Lombar to Madison.

  "Be patient. You'll see how this works out. All we have to do is wait for a report from one of my crew."

  Two hours later, one of the actors of Madison's crew, dressed as an Army officer, signalled to Madison from the door. Madison went over and they exchanged a few words.

  Madison came back to Lombar. "It was just as I sus­pected. General Whip went back to his headquarters and began to laugh at you."

  "WHAT?" cried Lombar.

  "I expected that he would," said Madison. "What this requires is a show of force. They will only obey you if you are shown to be a man that cannot be trifled with. Only after that can you trust them. Please sign this order."

  Lombar looked at it. It said:

  GENERAL WHIP HAS REFUSED ORDERS TO FIND JETTERO HEL­LER. BRING ME THE HEAD OF GENERAL WHIP.

  Hisst grinned like a toother. He grabbed his pen and signed it. He stamped it.

  Madison took it. He left.

  Madison's camera crew came into Lombar's office and set up. Lombar, agitatedly going over Earth invasion plans, hardly noticed them: camera setups were a common occurrence lately. He was much more concerned that, despite his adulterations, speed supplies were very low.

  Suddenly the door opened. Five women dressed as noble ladies-they were the circus girls-came in and knelt before Lombar. They were crying.

  One of them, collapsing, was supported by two on either side of her. One of these said, "Forgive her. She is the wife of General Whip. She came to plead for mercy. But she has fainted. I plead in her stead. Please, please, please spare the life of General Whip!"

  The cameras were grinding. The angles were such that one could not see the faces of the women, only their backs. What predominated in the scene was the ferocious scowl of the red-uniformed Lombar Hisst.

  Suddenly there was a commotion at the door. The two actor officers, dressed in Army uniforms, came in. Between them they bore a platter. And on that platter, sopped in gore, appeared to be the head of General Whip!

  The women screamed and fainted dead away.

  The two officers knelt. "Sir," said one, "your orders have been followed. General Whip has been executed for failure to take your command to hunt down Heller. Here is the head of General Whip."

  Lombar glared with ferocity. "That will teach him! My word is supreme! Remove that carrion and these females at once!"

  The whole scene had been shot. The room was cleared. Madison walked back in.

  Madison had filled out another blank Grand Council order, ready for the signature, as well, of Hisst.

  "I think," said Madison, "that when they see that on Homeview, there isn't a single officer out there who won't obey you. Please sign this."

  Hisst read it. It said:

  TO ALL OFFICERS OF ARMY AND FLEET: YOU WILL AT ONCE BEGIN TO HUNT FOR AND YOU WILL FIND THE NOTORIOUS OUTLAW JETTERO HELLER.

  He signed it with a flourish.

  Madison grinned. The manhunt he had envisioned would now take place.

  The heat and beat of the elation within his veins was close to ecstasy.

  WHAT HEADLINES!

  Will Earth survive Hisst's final rage?

  Find out in

  the final book of

  MISSION EARTH

  Volume 10

  THE DOOMED PLANET

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