Mission Earth 07: Voyage of Vengeance Read online

Krak's viewer was very dark for a long time. Only the sound of traffic and the hum of the motor of their own car. I wished I knew what sort of a machine it was: Seemed very strange to have no windows in it. Well, I would keep alert. Sooner or later she would look at it in a lighted area and maybe even at its license plates. Those license-plate numbers were a vital factor in any police activity, so much so that you couldn't really harass citizens at all unless all vehicles were numbered. But these considerations were just to occupy the time. Good Gods, the Bronx was a long way by car from Manhattan.

  Then the vehicle slowed. It went for a little distance and then speeded up again. Bang-Bang's voice: "Miss Joy. I think somebody set us up again. I counted four security men as we went by that apartment house. All armed with riot guns. We was expected. I think I better take you back to the hotel."

  Silence. Then, "Bang-Bang, is there a police station near here?"

  "I'll look. But Jesus Christ, ma'am-beggin' your pardon-you bring cops in and they'll nab us sure. They won't never go up against security police like those. They looked TOUGH!"

  "Go to the police station."

  "I don't like this, Miss Joy. And I don't know where one is. Usually a proud type like me doesn't descend to hobnobbing with low-life cops."

  A light came on. She was sitting in a little compartment. It had a narrow bunk and a pile of clothes and a small door that went to what was probably the driver's chair. What was this thing? She was looking in a directory open to the section, Police.

  "Four thirty-five Grassy Meadows Lane," she said. "Go there."

  "What is it?"

  "Metropolitan Police Vice Squad, Bronx Division."

  "Vice?" said Bang-Bang.

  "That's what we're dealing with," said the Countess. "Drive!"

  A muttering Bang-Bang drove them many blocks and then stopped again. "All right, Miss Joy. But mark my words, rubbing elbows with police is just one step lower than mucking with the Army."

  "Come back here."

  The door opened and the diminutive Bang-Bang crawled back from the wheel. He hunkered down, watching her.

  The Countess Krak had a small package in her hand. It said:

  Eyes and Ears of Voltar

  Follow Compeller: When Unit A is worn by the operative and Unit B has been placed on or into the subject, Unit B will compel the subject to follow the operative by inducing a wrong feeling when he does not. For use in causing subjects to walk into embarrassing situations where divorce evidence can be obtained and subject executed.

  The Countess activated Unit A and pinned it on Bang-Bang. It looked like a lapel button-membership in some club? She handed him Unit B.

  Bang-Bang looked at it. It appeared to be a tiny piece of dark adhesive.

  "Now, Bang-Bang," said the Countess Krak. "You walk in there and look around and find a policewoman, put that patch on her and come back here. She'll chase you."

  "Hey, no," said Bang-Bang. "We used to do this when we were kids and we always got caught. I ain't throwing no rocks at any cop just to get chased!"

  Patiently, the Countess Krak started to explain it to him in more detail.

  I did not wait. Here was a new opportunity!

  I snatched at the phone. I scrambled through the directory. I dialled the Bronx division of the vice squad.

  The watch sergeant answered.

  Urgently, I said, "There's an extraterrestrial fiend right outside your station! She is sending a demon in to grab and rape one of your policewomen!"

  "Well, more power to her," said the watch sergeant. "Why don't you cranks stay off this line!" He hung up.

  It was no use. I had to sit there helplessly. But never mind, those security men at the apartment were on the job.

  Bang-Bang slid open a large side door. The police station across the street came into view. He stepped out and somewhat nervously crossed the street, went up the steps and in.

  He was gone for quite a little while. The Countess watched.

  Oh, it was very plain what the Countess meant to do. Bigamy, adultery and other crimes in the Confederation are punishable by death. And the only way you can get a divorce as such is to involve the marital partner in one of these and get him or her terminated by the State. She was going to kidnap a member of the vice squad, get Bang-Bang to rape her, take photographs and use these to blackmail the female officer into arresting the poor, innocent girls! That is what we would do in the Apparatus. And the Countess knew how the Apparatus operated: she'd been a victim of it herself.

  Here came Bang-Bang. He sauntered elaborately down the steps of the Vice Squad building. Behind him the door sprang open. A tall policewoman was getting into a dark blue uniform coat.

  Bang-Bang strolled across the street toward the vehicle.

  The tall policewoman gave her cap a tug and followed.

  Bang-Bang paused beside the open door, inspecting his fingernails.

  The policewoman crossed the street toward him. She was an athletic brunette, rather handsome-featured in a hard-bitten sort of way.

  Bang-Bang sprang into the door and got behind Krak.

  The Countess lurked in the dark.

  I wanted to scream to the policewoman, "No, no! Don't enter that vehicle. Dishonor or death await you there!" But I was miles away and had to watch the awful tragedy unfold.

  The woman stepped in through the wide side door.

  There was a hiss.

  Gas! The Countess had used a gas capsule! Oh, this was Apparatus work indeed! (Bleep) her, why hadn't I prevented her from stealing that Zanco kit!

  The vehicle door slid shut.

  There was movement in the dark interior. Bang-Bang was going back into the driver's compartment. A flash of light as he opened and closed that door to go through it.

  The vehicle started up.

  Click, and the overhead light was turned on by Krak. There lay the policewoman, out cold.

  Swiftly, the Countess stripped off the victim's uniform. She laid the woman out on the couch. She tied her hands and feet with cord.

  I waited for the expected halt of the vehicle and rape.

  The Countess was taking off her own clothing.

  What horror was I about to witness? What perversion? Was the Countess a lesbian? I had never suspected that. There were no lesbians in the Confederation. If anything like that were detected, those involved would have been executed. There lay the policewoman, naked now. Maybe I could get the Countess for this crime under Voltar law. Or Earth law, for that woman was a member of the New York Vice Squad and would not be slow to strike back when she became aware she had been violated.

  Something was wrong.

  The Countess was not touching the woman!

  Krak was simply putting on the woman's clothing!

  She even threw a blanket over the female police officer.

  I thought, what a waste. If that had been I, I would have raped the victim just to go by the textbook. Was it possible that I did not quite understand the motives and standards of the Countess Krak? (Bleep) her, I couldn't figure her out.

  She was doing something to her own face. She turned off the light.

  The vehicle stopped.

  "We're here," said Bang-Bang.

  What in the name of the Gods was the Countess Krak up to? That policewoman would only be unconscious five or ten minutes. Time to rape her and take photos was nearly gone.

  Yet the Countess Krak was simply opening the door!

  Oh, this Manco fiend was quite beyond me!

  Chapter 4

  When the Countess Krak left the vehicle she did me the disservice of not looking back.

  She walked along a broken sidewalk under broken trees, poorly lit by broken lights. She was carrying a case.

  She went a block.

  The apartment house!

  Two security guards in gray before the door. They were holding rifles or riot guns. They were very alert.

  The Countess Krak walked straight up to them. They eyed her suspiciously.

  S
he flashed an I.D. folder in their faces. "Officer Maude Trick," she said, in a voice quite unlike her own. "Metropolitan Vice Squad. Those three (bleepches) and their lover-boys get here yet?"

  "Yeah," said a tough security man.

  "There was trouble at a disco. One left without paying for his pot. I got to interrogate."

  "Well, maybe so," said the tough security man. "But I'll have to check on you. This place is under threat and we got orders to shoot to kill. Stand right there."

  He went inside.

  Suddenly I got her plan! I grabbed the phone and dialled. It answered, "Dingaling, Chase and Ambo. If you want to sue somebody for slipping on their sidewalk or other vital actions, state details and your address when you hear the tone."

  An answering machine! They were closed for the night!

  How could I phone those security men?

  I had the address. If you had the address you could get the phone number. Frantically, I demanded directory service. I identified myself as a Fed and pleaded for the phone number. I kept my eye on the viewer.

  The security man came back. "Yeah," he said to the Countess Krak, "your chief said you just stepped out. But maybe I ought to go up with you. Those five young guys looked pretty crazy."

  "What sort of a threat is this place under?" said the Countess Krak in her altered voice.

  "A foul fiend dressed as a flower seller with brass heels," said the security guard. "We're supposed to shoot on sight. But we'll be on the lookout for anyone else that's suspicious. Our company is known for its efficiency."

  "Good for you," said the Countess Krak. "With a menace like that around, I wouldn't think of distracting you. I may be a while. These pot users don't never answer straight."

  "Ain't that a fact," said the security guard. "But if I hear anything that sounds strange, I'll be up."

  She went in. She got in the elevator. She went up. She got out into a hall.

  Another security guard!

  He was standing outside the door. "You can't go in there," he said.

  She flashed her I.D. "Your man down at the door verified me. Step in and call him if you don't believe it."

  "They're raising hell in there," he said. "Sex orgy. But all right. I'll call." He shifted his riot gun and opened the door.

  A blast of sound came out. Neo Punk Rock! Passionate cries!

  The guard went in. Krak followed. They entered a hall. The living room beyond, was visible through another door.

  Directory service gave me the number I needed. I dialled it urgently. If only I could get that phone to ring before the guard made his call, I would be victorious and the Countess Krak dead!

  The guard picked his way through the living room. And the picking had to be careful.

  The floor was carpeted with writhing, entwined bodies. Cries and groans punctuated the shattering Neo Punk Rock.

  The guard's expression was diffident as he stepped over and amongst the writhing bodies.

  The phone sat unringing on the table.

  My finger was flying on the dial.

  The Countess Krak was looking into her pocket. I could not see what the security man was doing. She was getting something out.

  I connected with the number!

  The Countess Krak was reaching for the inner door. She pitched something into the living room, remained in the hall and closed the door on the scene.

  I heard the phone ring in there!

  I was in time. He had not yet placed his call.

  My phone went live. The Neo Punk Rock was pouring through it with the cries and yells. "Eagle Eye Security," came the voice.

  "This is a Fed. For Gods' sakes, that policewoman ..."

  WHONK!

  The sound came through my phone.

  A streak of blue appeared around the cracks of the inner door she had closed on the scene.

  A BLUEFLASH!

  "Hello!" I screamed into the phone.

  Only Neo Punk Rock came back. "WHEEEEEEEOOOOOOO!"

  Chapter 5

  The Countess Krak opened the living room door.

  The record player was stuck in the last groove, just scratching.

  She counted the bodies on the floor, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

  The security man was collapsed across the phone taboret, the instrument fallen from his drooping hand. A twinge of fear gripped me. She had heard that phone ring!

  She walked over to it. She plucked the instrument from the floor. She put it to her ear!

  "Who is this?" she said.

  I went into total shock!

  I was in direct communication with the Countess Krak!

  She was talking to me!

  Oh, Gods, my blood pressure went out of my head and splattered all over the ceiling.

  I was on the verge of discovery by the deadly Countess Krak!

  "Who is this?" she repeated. "I can hear you breathing."

  Jesus! I quickly held my breath!

  Could she hear my heart beating, too?

  Maybe she could trace the call! She was posing as a policewoman. Maybe she would arrest me for vice!

  Believe me, it was real terror. I had her on the viewer. She had me on the phone!

  I was suddenly terrified that I might start babbling.

  A brilliant idea hit me! I should put down the phone and hang up.

  I couldn't unlock my arm muscles.

  With the violent concentration that comes sometimes in threats to life, I made my muscles work.

  I got the instrument down on the cradle and, with superhuman effort, unlocked my fingers.

  I sank back, staring at the viewer with glazed eyes. She had almost had me!

  What would she do now that she knew I was in New York? What would she do when she realized that it was I who was hounding her?

  SHE WOULD KILL ME!

  My hands began to shake. The corpse of the yellow-man she had killed back on Voltar was where the viewer should have been. He was staring at me with sightless eyes. He said... No, it was Torpedo. He was saying...

  "Wait a minute, Gris," I said. "This is no time to go crazy."

  "Who is this?" I said.

  "This is Officer Gris of the Voltar Coordinated Information Apparatus, on duty as Section Chief of Section 451, Blito-P3. How are things going?"

  "Terrible," I said. "How is Lombar Hisst these days?"

  "Oh, he's fine," I said. "Has hunting been good in the Blike Mountains?"

  "Only passable. Now that I have become Heller..."

  "SHUT UP!" I screamed.

  It didn't do any good. Another voice was in the room!

  "What in the name of Christ are you shouting about now, Inkswitch?" It was Adora. "You shouldn't be watching TV programs with violence in them if they're going to make you scream."

  Usually I hated it when she burst in on me. This time it was welcome. They were home.

  She shut the door.

  What little sanity I could rally mustered to my aid.

  I watched the viewer.

  The Countess Krak was searching the apartment, opening cabinets-looking for letters? Papers? Oh, was I glad to have never had anything to do with these women directly! She had apparently found nothing to tell her what she wanted to know.

  Then I noticed something absolutely horrible. The gloves! She had drawn on a pair of Zanco SURGICAL GLOVES! She was giving the cuffs a tentative tug as she approached the mass of entwined bodies. Was she going to cut them to pieces? Oh, the poor, helpless victims, lying there unconscious in the pitiless stare of this archfiend! I hushed my breathing. She was speaking.

  "My goodness," she muttered, "these primitives certainly can get tangled up on the subject of sex."

  She didn't seem to know how to go about straightening them up. Finally she plowed in. She grabbed a Hispanic's ankles and dragged him out and propped him against the wall. Then she got a black by the wrists and dragged him over to the row she was making. She kept at it in an orderly way.

  She got the head of Dolores out from betwe
en the legs of Toots Switch and propped the two of them in the line.

  "Ugh," she said, looking down at the last body left on the rug, Maizie Spread. "You primitives don't even bathe!" She dragged Maizie over and added her to the line. She stared at the three women she had now propped up at the end. "Oh, dear, how I wronged Jettero! He'd never even touch such carrion!"

  She reached out to get a chair. There was something on it and she started to toss it aside. Then she looked at it again.

  It was a peculiarly shaped pillow with straps on it. She whipped her gaze over to Maizie Spread slumped against the wall.

  "Why, you crooked slut!" she said. "You weren't even pregnant!"

  And sure enough, the stomach of Maizie Spread was flat as a table top!

  "Well, we'll soon find out," said the Countess Krak, "who put you up to this!"

  She reached into the case she carried. She was pulling something out.

  THE HYPNOHELMET!

  Oh, Gods, I was done for, for sure.

  What did these girls know?

  Oh, if only I had suspected this, I could have placed myself within two miles and, due to the relay breaker switch in my skull, that hypnohelmet would not have worked! But it was too late now to try to go rushing the miles and miles from where I was to the Bronx. On the other hand, I was quite sure that it would have taken far more nerve than I could muster to come any closer to the dangerous Countess Krak!

  She switched it on. She went to the first young man in the line and plopped it indifferently upon his lolling head. I was amazed. I had not realized a hypnohelmet would work through the unconsciousness of blueflash. Apparently it made no difference. She plugged in the microphone.

  "You will recall nothing of having seen or heard a policewoman this evening. You will forget everything connected to my visit. You will not awake until I snap my fingers three times."

  She lifted it off him and banged it onto the head of the black. She said exactly the same thing. She kept this up until she had completed all five of the young men.

  She had gotten to Dolores now and she sat down on a chair before the lolling Mexican girl. Something was dribbling from the poor thing's mouth. "Ugh," said the Countess and, taking a Zanco surgical pad, wiped the girl's face. Krak tossed the folded material contemptuously against the girl's bare stomach. "Too stupid to even get it in the right place. But we'll see if you're more informed about other things."