Mission: Earth "The Enemy Within" by Ron L. Hubbard
Authors: Ron L. Hubbard
Tags: sf_humor
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training and employment at the Gracious Palms. I just this minute formed a corporation called True Allure Fine Arts International, Incorporated—probably in Greece as we don't have one there—and these artists are all under contract to it. Our prices are high and the commission we get is twenty-five percent!"
"Excellentissimo!" cried Vantagio, lapsing into Italian from excitement. "D'accordo! Agreed!"
"I told you Izzy was pregnant with ideas," said Heller.
"The slack season!" said Vantagio. "Things go limp nine months of the year! This will stiffen up foreign trade!"
"We only want ten percent of the gross increase over last year's net," said Izzy.
"Marvelous!" said Vantagio.
Heller turned to the seven remaining painters who were standing there a bit goggle-eyed. "Now, I hope you gentlemen don't think you will be prostituting your art."
"Oh, no!" said the leading painter. "The proposition is too hard to refuse!" Behind him the others cried their assent.
"The name of the program," said Heller, "is Whore of the Week."
They all cheered.
The leading painter said, "Mister, whatever your name is, you're something out of this world!"
"Keep it to yourself," said Heller.
Izzy rushed around and got contract signatures from all eight painters on blank sheets he said he'd fill in. He scribbled a Memorandum Agreement In Principle and Vantagio signed it.
Then they left. As Heller walked out with Izzy, he said, "So that was my marketing project. Did I pass, Izzy?"
"Oy," said Izzy. "Just plain 'oy,' Mr. Jet!"
As they climbed into the cab, Izzy and Heller in back, Heller said, "Well, that was just fun mostly. But it also has its place."
"Fun?" said Izzy. "With neorealism in demand by the tops of every government, it will sweep the world! That project is worth millions! And every real revolution has to have its own art form. Neorealism! Things that look like what they are! Absolutely revolutionary in itself! Neorealism, the art of the people!"
Bang-Bang zoomed the cab out of the garage, heading back to the office. After a bit, Heller said, "Izzy. I've been checking it over and I think we can consider Phase One of the Master Plan complete."
I instantly went into a spin. Even my dulled senses could smell danger. WHAT plan?
In haste I prepared to go back through the older recorded strips. And a moment later, I stared at my equipment in horror. In all my recent travail, I had overlooked loading the recording strip reservoir! I didn't have any back track to look at!
WHAT PLAN!?!?!
Geological surveys and a legation and a diploma and Gods knew what else. I knew Heller! This would all come together some way with a huge black eye for me. Death, even!
A sort of savage feeling began to grip me. Heller and all this success with women. Wasn't it his fault that I had gotten into all this mess in the first place? And if he hadn't been distracting me, I wouldn't be in any trouble with Utanc!
A burning, bitter hatred of Heller began to sear through me.
Chapter 4
The following day, I was wandering about after a sleepless night and bitter morning and chanced to look at the viewscreen.
I was startled to see Heller was driving along in the cab! There was no sign of Bang-Bang and, as he turned to check a sign, there was nobody in the back seat!
He was driving in New York! It was illegal! By his license, he was not yet eighteen!
I looked at my watch. It was not yet 6:00 A.M. in Heller's zone!
With a savage curse, I sat down to watch and study this. He was off on some new tack!
I watched for signs. He was on Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive and by the horizon light of dawn, he was travelling north. I got out an Octopus Oil Company map of that area. Where was he going? Why?
The old cab was really purring. Heller seemed quite happy and relaxed. He was going faster than Bang-Bang drove but he didn't seem to be having any trouble.
By the signs, he was going to the Bronx. I tried to figure out what was in the Bronx that would interest him. I
"Excellentissimo!" cried Vantagio, lapsing into Italian from excitement. "D'accordo! Agreed!"
"I told you Izzy was pregnant with ideas," said Heller.
"The slack season!" said Vantagio. "Things go limp nine months of the year! This will stiffen up foreign trade!"
"We only want ten percent of the gross increase over last year's net," said Izzy.
"Marvelous!" said Vantagio.
Heller turned to the seven remaining painters who were standing there a bit goggle-eyed. "Now, I hope you gentlemen don't think you will be prostituting your art."
"Oh, no!" said the leading painter. "The proposition is too hard to refuse!" Behind him the others cried their assent.
"The name of the program," said Heller, "is Whore of the Week."
They all cheered.
The leading painter said, "Mister, whatever your name is, you're something out of this world!"
"Keep it to yourself," said Heller.
Izzy rushed around and got contract signatures from all eight painters on blank sheets he said he'd fill in. He scribbled a Memorandum Agreement In Principle and Vantagio signed it.
Then they left. As Heller walked out with Izzy, he said, "So that was my marketing project. Did I pass, Izzy?"
"Oy," said Izzy. "Just plain 'oy,' Mr. Jet!"
As they climbed into the cab, Izzy and Heller in back, Heller said, "Well, that was just fun mostly. But it also has its place."
"Fun?" said Izzy. "With neorealism in demand by the tops of every government, it will sweep the world! That project is worth millions! And every real revolution has to have its own art form. Neorealism! Things that look like what they are! Absolutely revolutionary in itself! Neorealism, the art of the people!"
Bang-Bang zoomed the cab out of the garage, heading back to the office. After a bit, Heller said, "Izzy. I've been checking it over and I think we can consider Phase One of the Master Plan complete."
I instantly went into a spin. Even my dulled senses could smell danger. WHAT plan?
In haste I prepared to go back through the older recorded strips. And a moment later, I stared at my equipment in horror. In all my recent travail, I had overlooked loading the recording strip reservoir! I didn't have any back track to look at!
WHAT PLAN!?!?!
Geological surveys and a legation and a diploma and Gods knew what else. I knew Heller! This would all come together some way with a huge black eye for me. Death, even!
A sort of savage feeling began to grip me. Heller and all this success with women. Wasn't it his fault that I had gotten into all this mess in the first place? And if he hadn't been distracting me, I wouldn't be in any trouble with Utanc!
A burning, bitter hatred of Heller began to sear through me.
Chapter 4
The following day, I was wandering about after a sleepless night and bitter morning and chanced to look at the viewscreen.
I was startled to see Heller was driving along in the cab! There was no sign of Bang-Bang and, as he turned to check a sign, there was nobody in the back seat!
He was driving in New York! It was illegal! By his license, he was not yet eighteen!
I looked at my watch. It was not yet 6:00 A.M. in Heller's zone!
With a savage curse, I sat down to watch and study this. He was off on some new tack!
I watched for signs. He was on Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive and by the horizon light of dawn, he was travelling north. I got out an Octopus Oil Company map of that area. Where was he going? Why?
The old cab was really purring. Heller seemed quite happy and relaxed. He was going faster than Bang-Bang drove but he didn't seem to be having any trouble.
By the signs, he was going to the Bronx. I tried to figure out what was in the Bronx that would interest him. I
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