Mission: Earth "Voyage of Vengeance" (9 page)

"Oh, too bad!" I said.

"Do you know if the subject U. S. citizen has committed any crimes in Turkey? If he has, why, then we could threaten to reduce our support of their army-they're very dependent upon their army to keep the people under repressive rule-and the Turks, of course, would arrest and imprison the man."

"I'm afraid we couldn't prove any crimes in Turkey," I said.

"That's too bad," said the State Department man. "It's sort of frustrating to have some U. S. citizen out there that we can't harass and get arrested. Usually we can think of some way, unless, of course, the person is a known political terrorist: we have to protect those to keep everything stirred up and the media happy. If he isn't a registered terrorist or a drug runner, there should be some way the State Department could help make trouble in the world."

"He isn't either one of those," I said.

"Ah, wait a minute. As soon as your call came in, we flashed the information into our various sections that Swindle and Crouch was on the line, and our State Department Intelligence Chief has just slid a memo onto my desk. He recommends you call the President and have him order the CIA to simply blow the yacht out of the water. This is the routine solution to such cases and I hope it is of assistance. We can't have some U. S. citizen out of the country and unharassed, so we are only too glad to have your assistance in serving the national interest."

"Count on the Rockecenters to do that," I said and hung up.

(BLEEP)!

I couldn't put the solution into effect for two good reasons: Heller was carrying a CIA passport identifying him as H. Hider Haggarty, and the moment the CIA heard that, they would think it was one of their own men and wouldn't act. The other reason was more personal. It had really not occurred to me before that I owned that yacht!

For a bit I wondered about simply sending the captain a radio and telling him when and where to dock and have the court officers waiting there to pick up Heller. But it was too simple to work. They warn you against simple solutions in the Apparatus. It, however, was impossible because the captain would think the radio was a fake. For all he knew, the real owner was in Turkey and not in New York. Without my presenting identity to Captain Bitts personally, he would just consider my radio a ruse of the enemies of Turkey. He would show it to Heller and Heller would be alerted that I had a hand in this. Heller would tell Krak and Krak would track me down.

This train of thought collided abruptly with the fact that the Countess Krak might very well, at that moment, be following some line of investigation which would lead her to me!

A horrifying threat!

It was one of those awful days when just at the moment you were sure things couldn't get any worse, they did!

The Countess Krak was in some hotel room, eating a late breakfast. The thought struck me that if I could find what hotel it was, I could get her commitment served and get her put away before she finished me!

But the silverware initials bore no clue. I watched alertly for some time, hoping that her eye would light upon something which would identify her whereabouts.

A knock on the door and Bang-Bang came in. He was carrying a huge mound of newspapers.

"I don't like to give you these, Miss Joy. Because if I do, you're going to get mad."

She took the top one. Headlines!

WHIZ KID FACING

CRIMINAL CHARGES

NEW SUITS PLAGUE

NOTORIOUS OUTLAW

In a bombshell development in Superior Court yesterday, Judge Hammer Twist set into motion the international actions which may bring Wister, the Whiz Kid, to sterilization and life imprisonment.

The deadly charge of the rape of a minor hovered above the head of the beleaguered outlaw.

New suits levied by Maizie Spread, Toots Switch and Dolores Pubiano de Copula are certain to bring ruin and devastation to the hunted criminal....

The Countess Krak grabbed another paper. Then she grabbed a third. Then a fourth!

"BLAST!" she said. "There's no slightest mention of the cancellation of the other suits or dismissal of the false charges of bigamy! Are they on the radio or TV?"

Bang-Bang shook his head.

"I don't understand it!" wailed the Countess. "The readers are left to think those charges still exist!"

"Well, that's the way the media is," said Bang-Bang. "Their whole business is bad news. That's all they print. Any good news isn't news as far as they are concerned. Just look at the other stories on those pages there. All bad news, death and disaster. They got the insane idea that only bad news sells papers."

"But they don't even say those hussies had committed perjury and were sent to jail!" said the Countess Krak.

"Maybe that would be good news," said Bang-Bang. "You got to face it, Miss Joy. The media is as crazy as a coot."

"I don't believe that's the whole explanation," said the Countess Krak. "It looks like managed news to me."

"No, it doesn't have to be. I knew some reporters once. I've had my own brushes with the press, you know: one time they attributed a car bombing to me in the headlines and then, in little type way down at the bottom, mentioned I was still in jail. So I asked one of these reporters how come. And he said that even when the reporter got the news straight, the managing editor made him write it the other way around. Sensation sells papers is what he said. It isn't
news
they're selling, but entertainment. That's what he told me. And two or three times since, seeing what they've printed about Jet and the trouble they've dug him into, I've come up with the idea for some
real
entertainment: rigging the cars of some publishers and managing editors. You wouldn't consider it, would you?" he added hopefully.

"Well, I admit," said the Countess Krak, crumpling up a paper, "that it would be a very entertaining project. But I don't think we have time for it. I want to get all this finished and get Jettero somewhere nice and safe. He's delicate in some ways."

"I hadn't noticed," said Bang-Bang.

"Yes, he is. He's a gentleman and has a sense of decency."

"I have noticed that," said Bang-Bang.

"So somebody has to protect him from women," said the Countess Krak conclusively. "You understand, of course."

"No," said Bang-Bang.

"Well, he wouldn't even aim a blastgun at a woman, not even one as bad as these hussies."

"Hey," said Bang-Bang brightly, "you mean we're going to get my M-l and have some target practice?"

"No, no," said the Countess. "That wouldn't do any good. Even if they were lying there dead, they'd still think of something vicious."

"That's pretty incredible," said Bang-Bang.

"No. I know such women. Criminal types. No ladylike sensibilities. And if we shot them, which I will admit they certainly deserve, I also know Jettero. He would feel sorry for them. No, we will not indulge ourselves by gunning down these sluts. You already had the best idea. What progress have you made in locating the double?"

"I got so worried about your reaction to the media that I didn't tell you what I should have told you when I first came in. Now
I'm
suppressing good news. He has surfaced."

"Aha."

"Yep. This reporter I know told me that the girls were holding a big press conference this morning, all about how this Whiz Kid is underprivileging women. That will hit the afternoon and tomorrow morning editions. And then the double will appear on ABC's 'Weirdo World' at 3:30 tomorrow afternoon, housewife prime time."

"Bang-Bang! That's wonderful news!"

"Yeah, I gotta stop reading newspapers. I'm getting like them! So anyway, he's taken advantage of this lull Judge Twist gave him to pop up, and he's going to tell the housewives how wonderful he is, I guess, or how come he's underprivileging them or something. But he'll be there. Live."

"Just what we need! And it gives us time to prepare. Not much, but enough. Quick, quick, Bang-Bang, there are some things I need. Go bring the van around right away. Oh, this is going to be great!"

Bang-Bang rushed out and she was getting into a light coat.

I didn't wait.

I called Eagle Eye Security.

"We've got her!" I said. "She'll be in the vicinity of the 'Weirdo World' talk show, ABC, tomorrow afternoon at 3:30, to kidnap the Whiz Kid."

"Hey, hey!" said the cigar-husky voice. "My men will be right on the job. Specials, too. Now that we know exactly what she looks like, she can't even disguise herself! Fifty big ones in the bag. Easiest money anyone ever made. You'll get your cut."

I could almost forego my cut. Whatever happened to me, I would have gotten rid of the Countess Krak!

Then I could take care of Heller.

And I might even think of something to save myself!

The world looked much brighter!

It is marvelous what heights of bravery extreme duress can lift one to: I decided I would be present at that talk show to guarantee the capture of the deadly Countess Krak.

The idea came to me that very evening as I puffed my second bhong to still my nerves and get ready for the two new girls.

Teenie unexpectedly had dropped by on her way home from school, bringing a strawberry and sausage pizza, the latest thing, for Adora and Candy.

They sat there, the three of them, eating it, and Teenie had been telling them how the Hong Kong whore detested homos, wouldn't have them on her staff and couldn't abide the sight of them-a complete reversal of the tale she had told me a day or two before. But the mention of homos had made my hands freeze and I had dropped my slice.

"Look at that (bleep)," Adora had said. "He's shaking like a dog (bleeping) bricks."

"Oh, I can fix that," Teenie had assured her, and had promptly gotten out the bhong, stuffed it and coached how long one held each puff. For some reason, I had not gone into panic but had begun to sink in a soft, gray haze. Then she loaded it up again and made sure I held each puff in, very deep and long.

I stopped shaking. I began to feel strangely brave.

They went back to eating pizza and Teenie began to regale them with a lecture they had given her at school on how to avoid "getting caught." She said, "It's awful funny, but they say a woman can get caught so easy you wouldn't believe it."

For some reason, everything else faded into babble and that phrase stuck with me.

The talk show!

If I disguised myself as an old woman, took Krak's viewer and worked behind the protection of Eagle Eye Security, two things would be accomplished: one, the Countess Krak could not slip out of their grasp; and two, thanks to the breaker switch I carried, THE HYPNOHELMET WOULD NOT WORK IF I WERE WITHIN TWO MILES OF IT! If she tried to get it on the Whiz Kid in that talk show, her efforts would be totally foiled.

With the Countess Krak disposed of in Bellevue, I could somehow finish off Heller and then somehow handle Teenie. Aha! I could win this yet!

The two girls came, two brunettes. They were pretty eager. I was so enthralled with my brilliant prospects of success, I did not even mind Teenie standing there and giving pointers, though I will admit it was a relief when she couldn't wait for the end of the second one, saying she had to get back for night classes on Overt and Covert Seduction. She gave me a slap on the bare behind and with a "Keep trying, Inky," popped her bubble gum and went racing away, swinging her textbooks in a circle with their strap.

With her gone, matters soon came to a satisfactory end. Adora gave her usual sales talk, got pledges to give up Psychiatric Birth Control and the girls left beaming.

"Isn't that Teenie the sweetest thing?" said Adora. "What a difference it is making, getting a decent education under her belt."

"Indeed so," said Candy. "So thoughtful and considerate of others."

The walls seemed to be going away and then coming near and time was stopped. I was making my erratic way to the back room when

My feet flew up, I did a half-turn in the air and came down

Stars flew through a black firmament.

I remember thinking that I hadn't known before that marijuana could cause such a sudden distortion of space. I had thought that that was reserved for its more condensed form, hashish.

I couldn't see at all!

Obviously, I had gone totally blind!

I lay there pondering the unknown pitfalls of drugs. Marijuana, reputed to be so mild, evidently could cause one to soar into the air, experience auditory concussion, bring about space views and then total blindness, just like that!

From some vast distance came the voice of Adora. "You clumsy (bleepard)! You're getting blood all over the rug! Sit up, (bleep) you! Candy, get some fabric cleaner at once and see if you can get this cleaned up before it permanently stains the white carpet!"

She was mopping at my face with a dishrag. My vision returned for a moment in one eye.

And there before me, on its side, was TEENIE'S SKATEBOARD!

My emotions were mixed. Relief that I hadn't gone blind from marijuana, but only from blood, vied with quivering hatred for Teenie. Her consideration for others which Candy had so highly praised consisted of thoughtfully placing her skateboard exactly in the middle of the dark doorway to my room!

With a constant, running lecture on how I should watch where I was going and should take care of rugs and should quit trying to find ways to disable myself and escape my husbandly duties, Adora took me to a. hospital emergency room and got my forehead sewed up. Fortunately, the marijuana was still in effect and I didn't mind the needle.

In fact, that night I went to sleep quite peacefully. In spite of everything else, I knew I had an excellent chance of winning after all.