Read Online Mission: Earth "Fortune of Fear" by Ron L. Hubbard - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ron L. Hubbard
Tags: sf_humor
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his Earth shoes, detected the motion. "Oh no, you don't," he said. "There's one more thing."
He scooped the blank stamped passes up, stack after stack, and locked them in a safe. And from it he then brought out an imposing-looking document. "Sign and stamp this," he said.
I looked at it as he laid it down on the table. Awfully official-looking. Ominous. It said:
I, Soltan Gris, Secondary Executive of the Coordinated Information Apparatus, Exterior Division, Royal Government, Voltar Confederacy (Long Live His Majesty Cling the Lofty), do hereby and herewith acknowledge the receipt of Freighter Invoice 239-765-933 AZ and all substance thereof.
I also herewith specifically state that it was ordered by me personally and that I hold all parties connected with this invoice, and all other sums ever given him by Zanco, totally innocent and blameless and do attest that they were acting under duress and by my orders.
(Signature)
Identoplate Area.
I read it wonderingly. I said, "All right, but WHAT is it?" I could plainly smell some danger in this.
"You'll get the invoice when you sign it and not until you sign it," said Bolz. "And believe me, I will be glad to get it off my hands!"
"But I can't sign a document like this. I don't know what it is. I could be shot if it's something illegal."
"Come on, come on!" he said. "You'll make me late for my plane! Sign it! Stamp it! You've never been finicky before!"
He had hours yet. What was this mad rush?
He saw I was hesitating. He reached out and touched the corner of the sheet. He was having trouble picking it up with his blunt fingers on that slick table. "All right, I'll just signify you wouldn't accept it. But I think you're a (bleeping) fool not to."
Cunning entered my mind. If the invoice proved wrong, I could still draw the stungun and shoot him and get this back. It might cause hard feelings. But it was the best way.
I slapped my hand down on the sheet just as he was
drawing it off the table. I pulled it back to me. I got out a pen. I signed it. Then I got my identoplate back in order, again showing hour and date, and stamped it.
He took the sheet and put it carefully in his safe. He took out another sheet. Thank Heavens, he left the safe door open. I could still execute my ploy.
The new sheet slid across to me. With one glance at it, my eyes popped and my jaw dropped. It said:
FREIGHTER INVOICE 239-765-933 AZ
Carrier:
Apparatus Space Freighter Blixo
Captain Bolz, Commanding
Shipper:
Zanco Cellological Equipment and Supplies
Chief:
Koltar Zanco
Item:
30,000 pounds in 50-pound bars 100% pure GOLD
I reeled. My head felt like a spiral nebula in full speedup.
My letter to Zanco had worked! I had told them they had denied me a chance to buy gold with the C 30,000 they hadn't bribed me with. And they had sent the GOLD!
"You want this document back?" said Bolz with a strange sort of sneer.
"Oh, Gods, no!" I cried.
My whole world had suddenly gone inverted. I had been at the bottom of the abyss. Just one glimpse of this had started me soaring.
"You've got it on board?" I said.
"Silly question" said Bolz. "But I'll humor you. Come down this ladder."
He led me to a storeroom. He unlocked the door. There were the boxes all lashed in place.
I dived at them.
I twisted the fastenings off the top one.
BEAUTIFUL YELLOW!
With an expert flip I got out my Knife Section knife and scored a deep scratch in one.
Pure, soft, gleaming gold!
I opened another and another.
Bars of glowing GOLD!
Two to the case.
Bars and bars and bars of pure gold!
"Three hundred boxes," said Bolz. "One hundred pounds to the box. Now if you can stop slavering long enough, come back up and initial my copy of the invoice."
I didn't want to leave. He pulled me out of the storeroom, ignoring the way my hands were automatically stretching toward the beautiful, beautiful gold.
Despite his tugging, I wedged myself in the door and counted the ends of the boxes.
"Oh, my Gods," said Bolz.
He scooped the blank stamped passes up, stack after stack, and locked them in a safe. And from it he then brought out an imposing-looking document. "Sign and stamp this," he said.
I looked at it as he laid it down on the table. Awfully official-looking. Ominous. It said:
I, Soltan Gris, Secondary Executive of the Coordinated Information Apparatus, Exterior Division, Royal Government, Voltar Confederacy (Long Live His Majesty Cling the Lofty), do hereby and herewith acknowledge the receipt of Freighter Invoice 239-765-933 AZ and all substance thereof.
I also herewith specifically state that it was ordered by me personally and that I hold all parties connected with this invoice, and all other sums ever given him by Zanco, totally innocent and blameless and do attest that they were acting under duress and by my orders.
(Signature)
Identoplate Area.
I read it wonderingly. I said, "All right, but WHAT is it?" I could plainly smell some danger in this.
"You'll get the invoice when you sign it and not until you sign it," said Bolz. "And believe me, I will be glad to get it off my hands!"
"But I can't sign a document like this. I don't know what it is. I could be shot if it's something illegal."
"Come on, come on!" he said. "You'll make me late for my plane! Sign it! Stamp it! You've never been finicky before!"
He had hours yet. What was this mad rush?
He saw I was hesitating. He reached out and touched the corner of the sheet. He was having trouble picking it up with his blunt fingers on that slick table. "All right, I'll just signify you wouldn't accept it. But I think you're a (bleeping) fool not to."
Cunning entered my mind. If the invoice proved wrong, I could still draw the stungun and shoot him and get this back. It might cause hard feelings. But it was the best way.
I slapped my hand down on the sheet just as he was
drawing it off the table. I pulled it back to me. I got out a pen. I signed it. Then I got my identoplate back in order, again showing hour and date, and stamped it.
He took the sheet and put it carefully in his safe. He took out another sheet. Thank Heavens, he left the safe door open. I could still execute my ploy.
The new sheet slid across to me. With one glance at it, my eyes popped and my jaw dropped. It said:
FREIGHTER INVOICE 239-765-933 AZ
Carrier:
Apparatus Space Freighter Blixo
Captain Bolz, Commanding
Shipper:
Zanco Cellological Equipment and Supplies
Chief:
Koltar Zanco
Item:
30,000 pounds in 50-pound bars 100% pure GOLD
I reeled. My head felt like a spiral nebula in full speedup.
My letter to Zanco had worked! I had told them they had denied me a chance to buy gold with the C 30,000 they hadn't bribed me with. And they had sent the GOLD!
"You want this document back?" said Bolz with a strange sort of sneer.
"Oh, Gods, no!" I cried.
My whole world had suddenly gone inverted. I had been at the bottom of the abyss. Just one glimpse of this had started me soaring.
"You've got it on board?" I said.
"Silly question" said Bolz. "But I'll humor you. Come down this ladder."
He led me to a storeroom. He unlocked the door. There were the boxes all lashed in place.
I dived at them.
I twisted the fastenings off the top one.
BEAUTIFUL YELLOW!
With an expert flip I got out my Knife Section knife and scored a deep scratch in one.
Pure, soft, gleaming gold!
I opened another and another.
Bars of glowing GOLD!
Two to the case.
Bars and bars and bars of pure gold!
"Three hundred boxes," said Bolz. "One hundred pounds to the box. Now if you can stop slavering long enough, come back up and initial my copy of the invoice."
I didn't want to leave. He pulled me out of the storeroom, ignoring the way my hands were automatically stretching toward the beautiful, beautiful gold.
Despite his tugging, I wedged myself in the door and counted the ends of the boxes.
"Oh, my Gods," said Bolz.
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