The Invaders Plan

I stepped in front of him. "I've been waiting for you," I said.

He almost brushed me aside.

"What?" I said. "No completed jobs to be stamped?" Heller had a few but it didn't take me very long to stamp them. Lombar was still in the ship. What could be keeping them? Heller might go inside and see the open deckplate. I had forgotten to close it! He could stumble right into them! And Lombar would tear me to pieces!

"Think hard," I said quickly. "Isn't there anything you really want for the ship? You know, we have a vastly increased allocation. I was supposed to tell you," I lied in the hope of gaining time, "that you had to use some of it up. It won't look good on the books unspent." Fleet people evidently don't think that way. They have some weird idea of saving the government money and spending only on essentials. Dumb! If you don't spend an allocation, it lapses!

Heller was looking at me oddly. Then he said, "Well, we haven't ordered any flowers for the going away party."

"Oh, good," I said. "Make out an order for flowers." He looked at me very strangely. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his mouth straight. But he took out a sheaf of blank order forms, put them on a board that usually hangs on his belt, snapped a pen into his fingers and wrote a formal order for flowers. I added two or three types and a wreath and a good-luck-on-the-voyage necklace for the ship, the kind they put on ships carrying celebrities. Then that was all I could think of. I stamped it with my identoplate.

What in Hells was detaining Lombar?

"Now surely," I said, "there is something else we don't have." He washaving trouble with his mouth. Sore tooth? It kept quivering. "Well, we don't have any yellow, pink and purple bubblebrew for the send-off."

"Oh, good," I said. I had never heard of yellow or purple bubblebrew. But he wrote it all down quite solemnly. I stamped it.

Where in HELLS was Lombar?

As Heller was about to move toward the ship, I blocked him again. "Surely there is something else!" He looked at me. He was having real trouble with his mouth. He must have bruised it leaping about the ship the way he does. "Well, we haven't ordered a tup party, complete with polka-dot cakes and blue-ski

"Good. Good. Write it up." So he wrote that up and I stamped it.

NO LOMBAR!

"Oh, we must get busy, I can see," I said. "There certainly must be some other items." Heller seemed to be having trouble with his throat. But he finally said, "Well, we can't leave out all the hangar crews and hangar guards. They'd be upset if we favored the contractors and forgot them. Let's see," and he seemed to consider it. "How about a going away party for them with five separate dance bands, green mountain dancing bears, flitter from the roof and fireworks?"

"Oh, good, good, write that up!" So he wrote up the order for a huge tup party. I stamped it.

MY GODS, WHERE THE HELLS WAS LOMBAR!

"Surely, surely," I said, "you haven't covered everything." He was having an awful time swallowing. He finally said, "We haven't ordered new dress uniforms for Snelz's platoon."

"Oh, wonderful. Write that up!" So he wrote that all up and even added to it new boots, new bedding for all of them and a new baton for Snelz. I stamped it.

Lombar, for the love of all the Gods in Heavens, get out of that ship!

"Now surely," I said, "we have not thought of everyone."

"Oh, so we haven't," he said. "A new uniform, a new pair of boots for your driver Ske. No, we'll make it two new uniforms and two new pairs of boots and a dress uniform for special occasions." He wrote it up and I stamped it as slowly as I could.

My eyes, flicking constantly to the airlock, had seen no sign of Lombar. Oh, my Gods, how long can I keep this up?

"Jettero," I said pleadingly, "there must be some additional item we have forgotten." He thought hard. But he did seem to be having trouble breathing. His chest kept jiggling and his mouth was very straight.

"Well," he said at last. "Youwon't need anything as you're going along. Ah, I have it! A whole new wardrobe for the Countess Krak!" He wrote and he wrote. Boots, dresses, jumpers, a tiara, chank-pops, on and on. Finally he was done. I stamped it.

In agony I was looking at the airlock. No Lombar.

And then, accidentally, my eye shifted to another direction. The exterminator truck? It was GONE!

Oh, (bleep) him, Lombar and that bunch of hoods with him had slipped out of that ship and driven off! The coast was clear and probably had been for some time! I had been doing all this stalling totally in vain! They must have left the ship right on my heels! Maybe while I was changing in the truck!

"That's all for now," I said quickly.

Heller took all the stamped sheets, separated the copies. He handed the former over to an order clerk and the latter to me.

"Thank you very much, Soltan," he said. "That was very thoughtful of you. I thought you were just playing a joke at first and that I was playing a joke on you back. But halfway through, I began to see that you meant it. I'm sorry I was laughing at you. I hope they can find that yellow and purple bubblebrew. So far as I know, it doesn't exist. And neither do the solid gold-heeled lepertige leather thigh boots I put down for the Countess. But we'll let the purchasers worry about that. I thought we were supposed to leave very quietly. But obviously, that isn't required. That sure will be some going away party! So thanks again." He clickety-clacked away on his hull shoes and was shortly swarming up a rope to complete testing the plates. I watched him sourly. These Fleet guys, I had heard, did play jokes with purchase orders: sky-blue carbon black, cans of vacuum, a pound of photons, a perimeter of assorted space particles.

And then I thought of my revenge. If and when he got as far as demonstrating that element conversion equipment, he was in for some realhumiliation. Serve him right!

I went back to my airbus. I told my driver to go up someplace and hover. I needed some peace and quiet.

It wasn't until a half hour later that I suddenly realized how the Finance Office would treat some of those orders. They would declare them "frivolous" and "exterior to existing allocations." And they would not do that until the orders had actually been placed and the goods delivered. You could spend millions of government money unless it was "frivolous." In a sudden panic, I started tallying up the probable cost of these bills! The further I tallied, the more frantic I became.

If these orders were disallowed, they could be debited against the account of the stamping officer!

Some, like uniforms, might get okayed but the rest came to about eight hundred and fifty credits! Maybe more!

If I overdrew my account I would probably be court-martialled, even cashiered!

Ske said, "What's the matter with you? You look like you're having a convulsion!" Finally, I managed to tell him. "Drive to the Finance Office. I've got to place nine hundred credits into my year's advanced pay account and quick!" I nearly would be broke again!

Slumped, I gloomed over my fate as we rode along.

And then I sat up straight with a new horror. With all those parties, fireworks and wreaths on the ship, Lombar was going to tear my guts out for violating the secrecy of the mission!

I suddenly yelled, "(Bleep) Heller. (Bleep) him and all his kind!" It didn't help to hear Ske laughing. He wouldn't laugh if he really knew how bad it was.

It had begun as such a beautiful day.