Read Online Mission: Earth "Voyage of Vengeance" by Ron L. Hubbard - Free Book Online
Authors: Ron L. Hubbard
Tags: sf_humor
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escape the straps, writhing from side to side, trying to force words through his gag.
The second psychiatrist said, "Be quiet," and with an expert fist, punched the boy on the button. The youngster collapsed.
Crobe beckoned and two husky male nurses raced up. One was carrying needles and drugs and the other pushed in an electric-shock machine.
The one with drugs pumped a syringe full into the boy's veins. The other one fixed the shock machine to the sides of his head.
Sparks flew and smoke rose up from the electrodes.
The two psychiatrists smiled and nodded to Crobe.
The first one said, "I am sure you can do it like I showed you on that woman. It's really a simple operation: merely cutting the vagus nerve."
"That will cure it. He won't be afraid of anything anymore. Vagotomies are wonderful," said the second psychiatrist.
Crobe grabbed a knife and opened up the boy's stomach. Blood flew. Using a fingernail, he located the nerve in question. He took a pair of fingernail scissors and cut a section out of it.
The first psychiatrist took the section away from him and looked at it. "Vagus nerve all right," he said. "But these things can be sneaky. It might grow again. Give me that drill."
Working professionally, the first psychiatrist bored a hole in the unconscious boy's skull. Then he reached in with the fingernail scissors and snipped. "That cuts the nerve off between the medulla oblongata and the body. We must be thorough."
The second psychiatrist said, "Wait a minute. It could accidentally get connected up again there, too. Give me that lancet."
He examined the boy's throat. "I read once that the vagus nerve also passed alongside the jugular. This is a good time to find out."
He made an incision.
The knife must have slipped. Air frothed through the cut, a gout of red bubbles.
"Oh, (bleep)," said the second psychiatrist. "I must have missed. But I'll get it." The knife plunged in again.
A fountain of blood sprayed them.
"(Bleep)!" said the second psychiatrist. "Now I've gone and cost you a patient."
"Never mind," said the first psychiatrist, "the parents were already bankrupt paying my bills. No loss, old man."
"Dank you for joing me how to do it," said Crobe.
"You owe us one," said the second psychiatrist, as he and his colleague walked out. "See you at lunch, Crobe, old boy."
I shook my head over Crobe. He was just an ordinary psychiatrist now. He wasn't even cutting up the corpse to use the perfectly good parts in cellology.
My attention wandered back to the subject of Teenie. She had just told me another fanciful version of her parents. And I doubted very much what she had said about a respectable businesswoman like the Hong Kong whore.
Wait a minute. There was a pattern to this. An excellent student of psychology like myself should be able to sort it out. Then it hit me: Teenie was a pathological liar!
INSPIRATION!
I knew my way out of this!
I could have her committed to Bellevue.
Any psychiatrist would end her as a threat!
The court could not possibly object!
My Gods, no wonder they had considered me a top student at the Apparatus training school!
I COULD SOLVE TEENIE!
No wonder they continued to practice psychiatry here on Earth and at such vast expense. What a Gods-send! You could get rid of anybody you wanted, get them mangled or murdered at the stroke of a pen.
I could get rid of Heller, Krak and now Teenie. All through the vast humanitarian benefits of psychiatry!
Chapter 2
What are the facilities of civilization for, if not for use?
The project to end Teenie without getting hit for her murder was no sooner conceived than begun.
I phoned the stalwart and staunch security chief of the Rockecenter enterprises. I said, "This is Inkswitch. I need a resume of your file on Teenie Whopper, the teenager you threw down the steps the other day. She's a troublemaker."
"That's ancient history, now," he said. "But I can get it on the computer if it's still there. Wait a minute.... Yes, here it
The second psychiatrist said, "Be quiet," and with an expert fist, punched the boy on the button. The youngster collapsed.
Crobe beckoned and two husky male nurses raced up. One was carrying needles and drugs and the other pushed in an electric-shock machine.
The one with drugs pumped a syringe full into the boy's veins. The other one fixed the shock machine to the sides of his head.
Sparks flew and smoke rose up from the electrodes.
The two psychiatrists smiled and nodded to Crobe.
The first one said, "I am sure you can do it like I showed you on that woman. It's really a simple operation: merely cutting the vagus nerve."
"That will cure it. He won't be afraid of anything anymore. Vagotomies are wonderful," said the second psychiatrist.
Crobe grabbed a knife and opened up the boy's stomach. Blood flew. Using a fingernail, he located the nerve in question. He took a pair of fingernail scissors and cut a section out of it.
The first psychiatrist took the section away from him and looked at it. "Vagus nerve all right," he said. "But these things can be sneaky. It might grow again. Give me that drill."
Working professionally, the first psychiatrist bored a hole in the unconscious boy's skull. Then he reached in with the fingernail scissors and snipped. "That cuts the nerve off between the medulla oblongata and the body. We must be thorough."
The second psychiatrist said, "Wait a minute. It could accidentally get connected up again there, too. Give me that lancet."
He examined the boy's throat. "I read once that the vagus nerve also passed alongside the jugular. This is a good time to find out."
He made an incision.
The knife must have slipped. Air frothed through the cut, a gout of red bubbles.
"Oh, (bleep)," said the second psychiatrist. "I must have missed. But I'll get it." The knife plunged in again.
A fountain of blood sprayed them.
"(Bleep)!" said the second psychiatrist. "Now I've gone and cost you a patient."
"Never mind," said the first psychiatrist, "the parents were already bankrupt paying my bills. No loss, old man."
"Dank you for joing me how to do it," said Crobe.
"You owe us one," said the second psychiatrist, as he and his colleague walked out. "See you at lunch, Crobe, old boy."
I shook my head over Crobe. He was just an ordinary psychiatrist now. He wasn't even cutting up the corpse to use the perfectly good parts in cellology.
My attention wandered back to the subject of Teenie. She had just told me another fanciful version of her parents. And I doubted very much what she had said about a respectable businesswoman like the Hong Kong whore.
Wait a minute. There was a pattern to this. An excellent student of psychology like myself should be able to sort it out. Then it hit me: Teenie was a pathological liar!
INSPIRATION!
I knew my way out of this!
I could have her committed to Bellevue.
Any psychiatrist would end her as a threat!
The court could not possibly object!
My Gods, no wonder they had considered me a top student at the Apparatus training school!
I COULD SOLVE TEENIE!
No wonder they continued to practice psychiatry here on Earth and at such vast expense. What a Gods-send! You could get rid of anybody you wanted, get them mangled or murdered at the stroke of a pen.
I could get rid of Heller, Krak and now Teenie. All through the vast humanitarian benefits of psychiatry!
Chapter 2
What are the facilities of civilization for, if not for use?
The project to end Teenie without getting hit for her murder was no sooner conceived than begun.
I phoned the stalwart and staunch security chief of the Rockecenter enterprises. I said, "This is Inkswitch. I need a resume of your file on Teenie Whopper, the teenager you threw down the steps the other day. She's a troublemaker."
"That's ancient history, now," he said. "But I can get it on the computer if it's still there. Wait a minute.... Yes, here it
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