The Invaders Plan

Young Doctor Bittlestiffender came out of the hospital and walked toward the house. Widow Tayl raced by me. She slid her arm possessively through his and looked up at him adoringly.

The young doctor shook me by the hand. "Officer Gris," he said in an emotional voice, almost tears in his eyes, "I will never be able to thank you enough." She looked at me glowingly and her hand was reaching for him. She cooed at me, "Isn't he a wonderful young thing, Soltan?" Well, it's nice to be appreciated, I thought, if only by the man in this case.

We flew away swiftly into the glorious morning sky.

"Why can't you leave that nice woman alone!" snarled Ske.

If I only could, I thought, gazing down at the dwindling scene. The two were hurrying toward the room I had just lost another battle in. Soon, praise the Gods, I would be safe on Earth!

Chapter 8

We were flying in the direction of the Apparatus hangar. But my driver was flying very badly. He had each of his hands so wound up in bandages so hugely that he was making it an excuse not to be able to control the wheelstick.

I decided this peeve of his had gone far enough. If we really had it out, it would clear the air.

"What did you tell that doctor about me?" I said.

He flew on for a bit – if you could call it flying. "You really want to know?"

"Feel free to talk," I said. "I won't discipline you."

"Well, first I said that if he was going to have much to do with you, he better watch his step." Fine, I thought. Really pretty good, in fact.

My driver pretended to miss his grip on the wheel-stick and the airbus reeled.

My suspicions were aroused. "And what else did you say? You're in no danger." He took a deep breath. Then he spoke in pure venom. "I said you were a typical officer of the Apparatus: a sadistic, mean, cheap (bleepard) that would murder his mother for a hundredth of a credit!" I hit him!

It was a good thing the communications buzzer went off.

I braced myself against the incipient spin of the airbus and picked up the instrument.

"Officer Gris?" My blood started to congeal. I recognized the voice of Lombar Hisst's chief clerk. I got out an acknowledgment.

"The chief says for you to get the Hells down to the hangar right this minute. He's waiting for you." He hung up.

My imagination went into high gear. Had Heller escaped? Had Hisst found out about the Countess Krak? Hadn't he liked the present I'd mailed him? Had the head of Zanco talked about the ten thousand credits?

My mind boiled with fear.

My driver was gri

No, that wasn't it. It had all started when Heller had come on the scene. Heller corrupted everyone! He was a scourge!

And now, in all probability Heller had done something that had pulled Hisst down on me. Oh Gods, would I be glad when I had Heller off this planet and totally under my control!

What in the name of Devils had Lombar found out? What did he want?

When we landed at the hangar, I did not need the directions of the guard. There was a bilious yellow "contractor" truck sitting just inside the door. It said, VERMIN AND INSECTS on its side. That would be Lombar. He was taking the cover of an exterminating company. He often did and it went along with his conviction that all riffraff should be done away with and, besides, he was clever. All incoming spacecraft from other worlds were supposed to get a disinfection and it permitted access to all parts of a ship without exciting suspicion.

Tug Onewas bustling with workers and the amount of noise was deafening. One more truck and one more crew added to it would go wholly u

I scuttled over to the bilious yellow van. I had been observed from inside. The door snapped open and I was forcefully yanked within.

Lombar was sitting in the dimness on a stool. He was garbed in a bilious yellow cover suit. His flaming amber eyes glared out from under the brim of an exterminator's helmet.

"It's a (bleeped) good thing you sent me that 'present'!" he snarled. "For days I've been considering taking you off this assignment!" I was trembling. And this upset me more. That is the trouble with Lombar: he is not consistent. He'd forbidden me to take bribes and yet, while he must realize, despite my deception, that I had taken one, he was leaving me on because I had violated his orders . . . no, no. I was simply confused and thinking in a confused way. And it was also unjust. If he just knew all the good work I'd been putting in ...

"You reported," Lombar said, "that certain boxes were going aboard and I myself saw some being loaded. You are going to lead us to those boxes!" Somebody shoved a bilious yellow cover suit at me. It said, KILL 'EM EXTERMINATORS on the back. I hastily struggled into it.

I saw that there were three others in the back of the van. Iknew two of them. One was named Prii, an expert on opening and closing anything so that no one would know it had been touched. The second was Bam, the top-rated saboteur of the Apparatus – quite famous actually amongst the top criminals of the Confederacy. The third one was a plump scientist I did not know: but that is not unusual – the Apparatus has literally thousands of scientists in its employ, experts on the most minute trivia one has ever heard of. They, too, were in bilious yellow cover suits and helmets.

Lombar was peeking through a can't-see-in side window. He was looking in the direction of the hangar offices. "Hah, the contractor has arrived." I peeked. A fancy aircar had landed and a very fat man in a very fancy suit was making his way somewhat anxiously to the office.

"Now, you little fat (bleepard)," muttered Lombar as though to the distant contractor, "Get into your act!" Shortly, a guard ran from the office.

Heller was working with a group of men. He had a little hull-sounding device in his hand that tests the absorption quality, the thickness of plates and security of joints. Swinging from a rope, he was going all along the side of the hull, verifying each plate. It's what they do both before and after a new coating. He was working very quickly, tapping himself along with hull shoes, quite an athletic feat, actually. The others were recording his reads and adjusting his and their own ropes. He had his little red racing cap on the back of his head and the figures he was giving were being uttered in a continuous stream, hearable above the din.

The guard, pretty clumsy, clambered up on a staging below Heller and, yelling at the top of his voice, got attention. Heller called for a young engineer who took over Heller's hull-sounding device and, much more slowly, began to do what Heller had been doing.

Heller slipped down his rope. He hit the pavement and trotted toward the office.

"Now fall for it, you (bleeped), rotten snob," said Lombar as though giving orders to the distant Heller.

The newly arrived contractor was showing Heller a blueprint. Heller glanced back at the tug as though unwilling to interrupt his work. But the contractor kept at him. Heller shrugged.

The day subofficer from Snelz's platoon and one other guard went over at Heller's beckon. Shortly all four, the guards, contractor and Heller went out and climbed into the contractor's limousine. It took off.

Lombar laughed a very nasty laugh. "Typical of a lousy, rotten Royal officer! Contractor comes up with some stupid problem, begs for help, says his draftsmen can't get on unless he has expert guidance. And the Royal officer, he just thinks the world can't get on without him. Conceited (bleepard)! Know all!" He raised his voice in a mimic, " 'Anybody need my Royal help?' " He snarled, "No wonder Voltar can't get anyplace with the likes of him ru