"L Ron Hubbard - Mission Earth 08 - Disaster" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hubbard L. Ron)

His Empire), am now forwarding the eighth and final part of my confession.
I will now be able to relate how it was that I came to be in your fine prison. Your Lordship may
have been shocked to learn that Fleet Officer Jettero Heller was killed at that roadhouse in
Connecticut. Yes, I ordered Agent Raht to kill him, but it was still Heller's fault. After all, he
was the one who bought that desolated roadhouse where the Mafia once smuggled illegal liquor, who
had befriended the old blind woman and who had posed as a "whitey engineer" for the Maysabongo
delegation. He was the one who had hired those two deputy sheriffs and made them "Maysabongo
marines."
My reaction at the time was a strange sort of numbness. I had planned, plotted and dreamed of
Heller's death for months and I should have been elated. But I wasn't, for some reason.
I also felt no joy when I watched Ahmed drop the poison-gas bomb down the air chute to the
Countess Krak's cell.
My personal feelings did not deter me from my duty, however, when Agent Rant told me there were
diamonds at the roadhouse. I had ordered Rant to kill Heller, and all the bungling idiot could do
was whine about losing blood and bother me with radioed pleas for help. Typical riffraff. But when
he said he had found a bag of diamonds, duty called.
So it was a definite pleasure to take Tug One from Afyon with Captain Stabb and his crew of
Antimancos. The ship—Heller had named it the Prince Caucalsia—had been sitting dormant while
Heller was in the United States. I figured it was only fitting that I visit his corpse in the very
ship that he used to bring us to Earth. After all, that was when my troubles started. I told the
assassin pilots that they didn't have to worry—we weren't trying to escape the planet. (I never
figured out who started that idea, but it is the sort of thing Lombar Hisst, as the head of the
Apparatus, would have done.)
And speaking of assassins, it was a relief not to have to worry anymore about the one that Lombar
had assigned to kill me if I fouled up.
My plan was simple. We would go to Connecticut and pick up the diamonds, flash on down to Florida
and wipe out Heller's antipollution plant, zip up to Detroit and bomb the Chryster plant where he
was building the new carburetors, then come back to New York and blow up the Empire State
Building. I could then tell Rockecenter that I had succeeded—that Heller was no longer a threat to
his petroleum monopoly. Then with one last load of Lombard opium, I would return victorious to
Voltar and become the head of the Apparatus.
And so it was as I kissed my dear Utanc good-bye.

Chapter 1

We crossed the world to Connecticut smoothly in the dark. The Antimanco pirate crew were in high
spirits. Captain Stabb egged them on: A Royal officer was quite a score. They regarded me as a
hero and swatted me on the back.
"There ought to be more like you, Gris," said Captain Stabb as we stood behind the pilots in the
hurtling craft. "Just because we once stole a Fleet vessel and went pirating, them (bleeped) Royal
officers done us in—us, some of the best subofficers they ever had. They tried us and sentenced us
to death and if it weren't for the

The vocodictoscriber on which this was originally written, the vocoscriber used by one Monte
Pennwell in making a fair copy and the translator who put this book into the language in which you
are reading it, were all members of the Machine Purity League which has, as one of its bylaws:
"Due to the extreme sensitivity and delicate sensibilities of machines and to safeguard against


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