Mission: Earth Death Quest

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Mission: Earth Death Quest Page 10

by Ron L. Hubbard

Miss Agnes sprang.

  Bang-Bang was hurled backwards to the couch. He landed on it with a crash!

  Miss Agnes was onto him, pinning him down with her knees. She was ripping away at his clothes.

  An electric shock machine lighted up.

  "Settle down!" screamed Dr. Morelay.

  A diploma went awry on the wall.

  "Lie still, you nice young man!" screamed Morelay. "I got to settle down on you!"

  The Countess muttered angrily, "Well, I never! You give these primitives the simplest suggestion and even then they get that wrong!"

  The electric shock machine was throwing off sparks.

  The diploma glass shattered. "Oh, boy, WOW!" howled Dr. Morelay.

  The electric shock machine went up in smoke. Bang-Bang's groan was more a moan of horror.

  The diploma came out of the glass and went sailing gently down to the floor.

  Bang-Bang got to the middle of the room, trying to straighten up his clothes, yet looking back at the couch in shock.

  "Poor Bang-Bang," muttered the Countess Krak. "How embarrassed he must be. And now we'll have to stop the night somewhere down the road so he can recuperate. Blast! I wanted to drive straight through!"

  Miss Agnes lay there grinning like a ghoul. "Oh, boy, that was really good," she said. "Forty-four years I kept myself a virgin for that rotten (bleepard). But now revenge is really sweet. I've let myself be settled down by a nice young man instead of him. And that vengeance was really great. Revenge after all is the best reward. And I've got it at last! I'm full of it!"

  She got up off the couch and pulled up her pants. She went to her desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a huge envelope of keys and instruction books and registrations. She dumped them in Bang-Bang's arms. She went and unlocked the door. "Nice young man," she said, "you better take up Psychiatric Birth Control. If anybody found out nonperverted sex is that good, they'd overpopulate the world!"

  Bang-Bang ran for it. The Countess Krak pushed the telescope out of sight into a bag.

  He came sprinting down the drive. He gave his clothes a hasty glance when he saw the Countess. Then he nervously began fumbling for keys in an envelope. He was trying one after the other in the lock of the main land yacht door.

  His face was brick red. "For Christ's sakes," he said to himself, "don't lose these keys! I don't think I could stand getting another set!"

  He got the door open. Then he must have seen

  something on Krak's face. He said, "Did you say some­thing about me to that woman?"

  "Me, Bang-Bang?" said the Countess Krak.

  A sudden thought struck me like a lightning bolt. I had forgotten right up to this minute that the old cab they had been using was bulletproof. They would not be riding in it now. Instead they would be in this land yacht, which seemed to have aluminum sides: a rifle slug could go through it like paper! Oh, was luck favoring me now! The Countess Krak was even wider open for a hit!

  Chapter 4

  Bang-Bang, swearing and snarling to himself, managed to find enough controls in the ornate and sparkling driver's area to get the land yacht's main diesel engine started and, with exaggerated allowances for posts and curbs, got it out of the gate and going down the road. It was ridiculous to watch that five-foot-five, one-hundred-pound Sicilian trying to wrestle that mammoth vehicle.

  The Countess Krak was kneeling on their baggage, spotting signs for him through the vast windshield. She read one, Kingsland Point Park, and Bang-Bang, evidently unwilling to go on, turned into it and shortly stopped the monster in a parking area which overlooked the Hudson. The sun was going down and the river was vast before them, two miles wide at this point and golden in the sun.

  "Why are we parking here?" said the Countess Krak.

  It was just fine with me that they parked there. I could spot the place exactly for Torpedo. A setup.

  Bang-Bang wasn't answering her. He was surrounded by a vast array of chrome knobs, panels, switches, levers and controls. And right beside his seat there was a mobile-telephone handset. He picked it up, listened to it and his face glowed with satisfaction as he heard the dial tone.

  The Countess Krak was moving back toward a sitting room, trying to sort baggage.

  "Long distance?" said Bang-Bang. "Gimme an urgent person-to-person call to Pretty Boy Floyd, Ocho-keechokee Hotel, Ochokeechokee, Florida."

  The Countess Krak stopped what she was doing and stared.

  "Jet!" yelped Bang-Bang. "Is that you? Thank God. We're only five miles south of Sing Sing and I think we just stole a million-dollar land yacht!"

  Bang-Bang listened a moment, then he extended the phone to the Countess. "He wants to talk to you."

  She took the handset. She said, "How are you, dear? Did you have a nice trip?"

  Heller's voice, "What are you up to?"

  "Do you have a nice room? I hope there were no alligators in it."

  Heller said, "Quit it! It's all okay here. What are you up to?"

  In a very sweet voice, she said, "Well, it's all okay here, too."

  "Listen," said Heller. "What are you doing with a million-dollar land yacht? Where are you going?"

  She said, "It's lonesome without you, dear."

  "WHERE are you headed for?" said Heller.

  "You really want to know, don't you, dear?"

  "YES!"

  "Well, I'm not going to tell you straight out. The domestic police monitor calls, you know."

  "Then you really ARE going somewhere!"

  She said, "Do you recall a stone wall?"

  "NO! Don't go there! Don't go near him!"

  "If you say so, dear. But I must speed up things a bit."

  Silence at the other end. Then finally, "All right. But only if you do me a favor."

  "Whatever you say, dear. You know I never do anything you don't want me to do."

  Heller said, "Drive slowly. Take your time. Give me four days to meet you there. And DON'T arrive before I do."

  "All right, dear."

  "I can complete my part of this project here in that time and join you."

  "Oh, wonderful! It means we'll have a lovely vaca­tion."

  "Looking forward to it," Heller said. "Love you. Put Bang-Bang back on."

  She surrendered the handset. Bang-Bang listened intently. Then he said, "This is a mobile phone here." And he gave Heller the number and call of it. Then he said, "Yes, SIR, Mr. Jet. That takes a load off my mind." He hung up.

  "What did he say?" said the Countess.

  Bang-Bang didn't answer. He was industriously putting another call in. I was beside myself with glee. What luck! Heller had unwittingly arranged the very delay that I might need! Four days! The Countess Krak would be exposed on the road for four days in a vehicle that was so easy to spot it would be a cinch to find it.

  "Jiffy-Spiffy Garage?" said Bang-Bang. "Let me

  speak to Mike Mutazione.... Hello, Mike. This is Bang-Bang. Look, Mike, you know that old cab?... Yeah. Well, it's parked in the bushes up here in Indian country." And he gave him the exact location and told him the keys were "in the usual place." Then he turned to the Countess. "That cab don't belong to the family anymore. He wants to know who is going to pay for the trip."

  The Countess dived a hand into her purse and gavt him my Squeeza credit card. Oh, well, I thought. Just ferrying a cab thirty miles or so down to Newark wouldn't be that expensive. I had to remember that half a million was forfeit if she overran that credit card.

  "I got a valid credit card here," said Bang-Bang into the phone. And he gave Mike the number and designa­tion. "Okay, I'm glad that will be fine. Now, Mike, the old cab has received a few dents lately, and while you've got it you could fix it up."

  "Tell him," Krak said, "that he should fix it up so it will fly."

  "Yeah, Mike," said Bang-Bang. "And the lady wants it hopped up. So put a new motor in it.... Yeah, you can redo the whole thing. New leather on the seats. You know.... Great. Now there's something else, Mike. I'm trying to drive somethin
g that's a grown-up, expanded Greyhound bus, that's now a two-decker land yacht. I want you to hire me a retired Greyhound bus driver.... All right. And an old lady for a cook and another one to keep it clean.... Right.... Yes, by all means, send a polite old mechanic that can keep the gadgets operat­ing.... Sure, the cook can bring a load of food and liquor.... Yes, that's all right.... Yes, new uniforms. That would be nice.... I see what you mean, Mike. A second, smaller motor home and driver for the crew.... Well, hey, that's lucky, you had one right there. How

  about that! Only fifty G's! Well, fine, send the crew along in that.... Yeah, we're parked temporary in Kings-land Point Park.... Easy to locate, the thing is big as a house.... Yes, we'll wait right here for the crew.... Oh, yes, sure, Mike. Put it all on the Squeeza credit card-wages, the second motor home, the lot.... Bye now."

  I was almost fainting! He had just run up what might become an eighty-thousand-dollar bill! With all Krak's other purchases, Mudur Zengin might begin to run out of money and cost me my half-million deposit certificate!

  Bang-Bang was handing the credit card back to the Countess Krak.

  "What did Jettero say?" she plagued him.

  "To make sure you were comfortable and safe," said Bang-Bang. "And it occurred to me that spring is on the land and if we had a crew you could just spend these four days wandering around the fields as we loafed along southward and pick wildflowers and enjoy the views. Beautiful country this time of year. You'll love it out in the open."

  All worries were swept away for me. Bang-Bang unwittingly had set her up as the easiest target in the world!

  "It's getting awfully dark," said the Countess Krak. "Doesn't this craft have any glowplates?"

  "You mean lights?" said Bang-Bang. "The generator hasn't been started. Let's see. It must be one of these switches here." He was looking over the vast array of panels in reach of the driver's seat. He found it and pushed a button.

  My screen flickered!

  The roar of an engine starter.

  MY SCREEN WENT OUT!

  Interference! It must be coming from the generator's carbon brushes! It might be suppressed for Earth-type radio but it certainly jammed the wavelength and type that I was operating on!

  I couldn't see or hear a thing!

  I swore. But Torpedo could find them and I knew that even if they moved, they would be easy to trace, for I had their destination: "Stone wall" could only mean Stonewall Biggs, the County Clerk of Hamden County, Virginia. And only one major highway and then a few country roads could take them to Fair Oakes. They could be followed or intercepted with ease.

  I had one other vital thing to do. I picked up the phone and called the Service Department of the telephone company.

  "This is the butler of Dr. Agnes Morelay," I said. "I have a mobile telephone," and I gave the number. "Dr. Morelay has instructed that the service be put on vaca­tion status as it is not in use."

  "Right away, sir," the girl said. "We will take it out of service."

  I smiled. Heller would not be able to call them. They would not be able to call. And they probably wouldn't even find out their phone was disconnected now.

  It would take Mike Mutazione plenty of time to set them up to get going. They were sitting ducks.

  It was time for my evening stint. I threw a blanket over the viewers. This was one project which, all said and done, was going extremely well!

  Enjoy your last hours on Earth, Countess Krak. Shortly you will be out of the way for keeps!

  Chapter 5

  I

  I peeked into the front room. The next lesbian couple had arrived. The husband-a thin, American Indian girl-was apparently named Chief Malcomb. The wife was a plump high-yellow they were calling Bucket.

  Miss Pinch was taking a stylish blanket coat off the husband. She was saying, "You're going to love this, Mal­comb. Psychiatric Birth Control is for the (bleeps). It's as big a fraud as psychiatry itself, and that's saying some­thing! You just have NO idea how marvelous natural sex can be!"

  Malcomb said, "I'm scared half to death."

  That did it! I rushed into the room. I yelled, "I don't want to see any dead, staring eyes! I can't stand it! I can't stand it! I can't STAND IT!"

  They looked at me with some alarm. But I was not to be gainsaid!

  I knew what I had to do. I made Miss Pinch phone out right then for a rental electrocardiograph. Only when it had arrived and I had it fastened on Malcomb's wrists, with the portable machine positioned beside the bed where I could watch the needle clicking and drawing on the paper the heartbeat of the girl, would I consent to remove my clothes and begin to do my duty.

  Even then, I had my attention on that needle to such an extent, making sure that she was not a corpse, that I hardly knew what I was doing.

  Miss Pinch, with pursed lips, didn't approve at all.

  But the needle swung when the woman screamed and I watched it carefully. Her heart was still beating.

  I mopped off my brow, sitting at last on the side of the bed. I felt it had been a near thing. Maybe I should also have one on my wrist: my heart was beating fast enough!

  It was even worse with Bucket, the lesbian wife. She was certainly no virgin but, even so, I had to bat the needle several times to make sure it wasn't stuck.

  Frightening!

  All in all, they must have found it pretty unsatisfactory, even though they admitted afterwards that they had never had anything feel that way before.

  After they'd gone, Miss Pinch lectured me about my duties and how I lacked gratitude for the huge pay I had been drawing.

  "We almost didn't make it, Inkswitch," she said reprovingly. "You don't understand the critical situation with that Bucket woman. That's twice we're having to change the mind of that poor thing. She used to do it every day with her Great Dane and sex is a big thing for her. You're a soldier in a hard campaign and this is not the time to go soft!"

  "With a Great Dane?" I said. "You mean a Danish man."

  "No, no. A Great Dane is a dog and dogs have peculiar (bleeps): they swell up huge with a bulb in them and lock in. It's one of the Psychiatric Birth Control methods and it's pretty big competition. You have no idea how that psychiatrist worked on her. He was so solicitous for her plight, he went to the greatest possible lengths. He even gave her the Great Dane out of a government grant from the National Institute of Mental Stealth-they help the needy, you know. And we had an awful time: the

  Great Dane bit everybody who came near her and we had to get him run over with a hit car. Then the psychiatrist caught her on the bounce and got her enamored with Malcomb, using a policeman's billy as a dildo. And Malcomb had to do so many weight-lifting tongue exercises to build it up that she sprained her jaw. And your poor performance tonight, that was aimed to get into her with natural sex, might have sent that poor woman to the dogs again. It's a hard campaign, Inkswitch, and you've got to stiffen up and fill the gap!"

  I was pretty contrite. But when bedtime came and I insisted Miss Pinch and then Candy wear the machine straps, they kept getting passionate and their writhing around disconnected the straps. This, of course, stopped the electrocardiograph needle, and supposing in horror that I was now doing it to a corpse, I would leap off.

  Miss Pinch acidly declared that I had not earned my money that day and refused to pay me. They even made me sleep by myself on a sofa in the back room.

  I was lying there wondering what could possibly have gotten into me when the phone rang.

  "Torpedo here," he said.

  Expecting some marvelous good news, I said, "Are you calling from Hairytown?"

  "No. I'm in Harlem."

  "WHAT? Listen, you idiot. The target is in a huge land yacht with paper-thin aluminum sides that wouldn't stop a spitball!" And I gave him the license number and description. "It's parked right this minute in Kingsland Point Park, seven-tenths of a mile due west of North Hairytown, overlooking the Hudson. You could walk right in, put the rifle against her head and bangp, your job is done. You b
etter get going! For Gods' sakes, what delayed you?"

  "I had to get a rifle and I got a beauty. It's a Holland and Holland double-barrelled elephant rifle,.375 H & H Magnum. Blow the side off a barn! It's got a Bausch and Lomb superpower night scope, hit anything up to a thou­sand yards. It took time to steal them but they work great."

  "Work great? How do you know?"

  "Well, you wouldn't want me to use an untested gun on a real hit and mess it up, would you? I'm a craftsman. I really lay into my work."

  With acid sarcasm, I said, "Well, I hope it tested all right."

  "Sure did," he said. "I come up to Harlem after it got dark. There's this alley, see, right next to a joint that's got the world's loudest band. So I waited until a black girl passed and drilled her. Almost blew her spine out. Then I dragged her into the basement and ripped the clothes off the corpse and had her. She sure was juicy. Just laid there staring at me with those sightless eyes, staring at me. I must have done it six times. She cooled down, though, and got too stiff, so I thought I'd better phone in."

  "You are being paid to do a job!" I railed at him.

  "Of course, of course! I was just practicing. Also, I didn't want to go out on a real job. Up to an hour ago, my hands were still shaking from the shots."

  "They ought to shoot you," I said bitterly.

  "Oh, hell, yes," he said. "They have to. You see, this prison psychologist had syphilis and he gave it to me in the (bleep) and mouth and told me to spread it around. So I have to have arsenic shots to keep the sores from run­ning. But it was a waste of time on his part because a corpse don't care if you give it syphilis: it just lies there stiff and stares at you and don't say a word."

  "SHUT UP!" I screamed at him. "Get on the job!"

  "Oh, you bet. I hardly took the edge off at all with that black girl. I know exactly where the target is now. I'll grab a car, go right up, shoot her dead, lay it into the corpse and when it gets too cold to (bleep) I'll phone in again and report. I hope you're having a good time, too!" He hung up.

  I tried to get some pleasure out of knowing now that the Countess Krak would shortly be a defiled corpse.

  But suddenly I got to worrying. That girl the night before, Butter. She had said that she had had coitus with a goat.

 

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