Mission: Earth The Enemy Within Page 6

  I went out to the cool patio and sat in a chair. One of the small boys came tearing out of Utanc's room without any clothes on, spun about and vanished. He returned with pants on and tried to sneak by me. It was too narrow a gap. I tousled his head and smiled at him. He gaped back.

  I reached in my pocket and got a coin. I gave it to him. He stared at it suspiciously.

  I reached into my pocket and gave him a ten-lira note. He took it and looked at it in amazement.

  I reached in my pocket and gave him a hundred-lira note, almost a U.S. dollar. "Just tell Utanc, when next you see her," I said, "that the moon and sun together are dim compared to her."

  He didn't know what to make of it. He went off muttering the phrase so he could remember it. Suddenly he was back. "Sultan Bey," he said, "can we eat all the grapes we want?"

  I smiled indulgently. "Of course."

  A little while later, there was a roar of an approaching car. I got up and looked out toward the gate.

  A vehicle shot in, braked with a squeal of tires and slid exactly into the parking place.

  It was a white BMW road-rally car. A sedan with a low profile and a big trunk. Plastic no-see-through glass covers had been put over the inside of the windscreen and windows. You couldn't see who was in it.

  Utanc got out on the driver's side. She was garbed in a white cloak with a peaked hood, and veiled, and all that was visible of her were her sloe-black eyes and even these were shadowed by the hood.

  Daintily and modestly, she crept across the yard and when I would have stopped her, turned her body and slid past me, eyes downcast, and was into her room.

  I was in a state of alarm at once! Had I done something to offend her?

  Karagoz was getting out. He had some bundles. A small boy grabbed them and sped to Utanc's room. The door slammed behind him.

  I went over to Karagoz in alarm. "Is the car all right?"

  Karagoz said, "It's fine. They had one all ready to deliver to a rich official and, for a premium, they sent it right over this morning as soon as I relayed your note. Drives great. Awful (bleeped) fast, though."

  "Did she like it?"

  "Oh, yes! Drooled over it."

  "And when does she get her driver's test and all?"

  "Oh, we got the license. I only had to show her a few things the salesman showed me. Then I showed her how to steer and so on. In about ten minutes she had it. The test man said she was the best driver he'd seen for some time. Mysterious."

  "Well, of course anyone expert at driving camels would have no trouble learning to drive a road-rally, stick-shift car," I said.

  "That's true," said Karagoz.

  "Then what's she upset about!" I demanded.

  He thought and thought. Then he said, "In the store where they sell cassettes, she wanted some Tchaikovsky—he's some composer or other—and some piece called 'The Overture of 1812'—she said she wanted the one with real cannons in it—and they didn't have either one and said they'd have to send to Istanbul for it. But she really wasn't upset. She just told them she'd take the Beatles that they did have and they could order the rest." He thought a while longer. "Oh, yes. She said the high-frequency band was missing on the audio cassette deck they tried to sell her and that they better get some decent hi-fi equipment in if they wanted her for a customer.

  "But actually, she was very sweet about it. She's very shy and not forward at all. You can tell from her accent she's been raised amongst the wild nomads of Russia. Really, she's the most mannerly and demure person I ever met. Except, of course, when she gets behind the wheel of that car!"

  So I had no slightest clue of how I had upset her.

  The day dimmed for me.

  I could hear some laughter coming from her private garden, her own throaty amusement and the high-pitched little squeals from the two small boys. So she wasn't mad at them. She had drooled over the car. She had not been mad at the merchants. She had gotten her driver's license. She was not upset with Karagoz. There was only one conclusion I could reach.

  She was mad at me.

  I stared for hours unseeingly into a discarded pile of shriveled grass.

  I knew I could not live without Utanc.

  Chapter 9

  Now and then in a lifetime, somebody catches a glimpse of Heavens and then promptly plunges into Hells. And that was what was about to happen to me.

  That night, there was no messenger from Utanc. I fretted away the hours fruitlessly.

  In the morning, red-eyed and bushy-haired from lack of sleep and worry, I thought that if I could just speak to her and ask her what was wrong, it would all come out all right. At least I would know.

  Accordingly, realizing it would be fruitless to knock and fearing to just get the door slammed in my face, I conceived a cunning plan. I would lie in wait in the patio and when somebody came in or out, I would be able to go in and quietly put my question to her.

  Looking back on it now, it still seems sensible. Yet it was rash beyond belief.

  I took a position behind a high-backed wicker chair just outside her door. The tall and curving weave of the chair hid me rather effectively, yet, kneeling there, I could peer out and keep an eye on her door.

  Faintly, from within, I could hear water running and then splashes.

  After a bit, suddenly the inner bar of the door was being lifted!

  The door opened!

  One of the small boys, stark naked, came out of the door!

  He stopped!

  He yelled, "Melahat!"

  From within came Utanc's voice, musically calling to him, "Ask her for a back brush, too!"

  The small boy dashed through the patio and out into the yard, shouting, "Melahat! We need some towels!"

  My chance! He had left her bedroom door ajar!

  Out I came from behind the wicker chair.

  I tiptoed into the room, taking great care not to make a sudden noise and frighten her.

  Water splashing was coming from the bathroom. Its door was wide open.

  Silently, I crept forward. If only I could say a word or two and see her smile back, I knew everything would be all right.

  Then, there she was!

  She was lying in the tub! The bubble bath was white froth clear up to her chin. Only her head and the tips of her fingers were showing. Her hair was tied high upon her head to keep it out of the water. She was in profile to me. Her eyes were upon her hands and a bar of soap she was lathering.

  I had passed by a low table. A small book was on it. My trousers must have brushed against it. It fell and made a small sound.

  Utanc must have heard it but she did not look in my direction. She said, "Did you get the back brush?"

  The sound of her voice sent a shiver of delight through me. How utterly sweet she looked, just her head and hands above the bubble froth.

  The sound of her voice and sight of her in her bath was making it almost impossible to speak. My love for her welled up. I fought for control of my vocal cords. "Utanc..."

  Her head whipped round toward me. She opened her mouth in shock. She turned bright red!

  I took a step forward to reassure her, trying to find my voice.

  She cowered back, trying to shrink into the bubbles. Suddenly she screamed, "Don't kill me!"

  I recoiled!

  I gazed in horror at how I had frightened her.

  I backed up out of the bathroom!

  Another voice! "Don't kill her!" It was the second small boy. He, too, was stark naked. He was standing by a dressing table that was covered with open boxes.

  Suddenly he exploded into action!

  With all his might he threw a powder puff!

  "Don't you dare kill her!" he screamed.

  He found another powder puff on the dresser. He pitched it as hard as he could throw!

  The powder trailed through the air!

  The puff hit my pants in a white explosion!

  "Don't kill Utanc!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

  He was scramblin
g through the boxes to find another powder puff.

  I got out of the room.

  I went across the patio, totally confused.

  The first small boy was racing back across the yard. He had dropped the towels and they were strewn behind him.

  He was carrying something—a long-handled back brush.

  Screams were still coming from the bedroom behind me.

  The first small boy rushed at me from the yard, blocking my way. "Don't you dare kill Utanc!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

  He struck at me with the bath brush!

  He wasn't very big. The brush could not reach

  higher than my arm. But he wielded it with all his might.

  I had had enough!

  It was his fault anyway! He had left the door open!

  I cocked my right fist.

  With everything behind it, I hit him in the face!

  He flew backwards about fifteen feet!

  He landed with a crumpled thud!

  Staff had come pouring out of other buildings, probably at the first screams.

  They saw the boy land.

  They saw me in the patio door.

  They stopped.

  They made a ring of people twenty feet back from where the boy lay.

  He was twitching, lying on his side, his eyes shut, blood gushing from his nose.

  The staff did not come forward to him. They knew better.

  The boy's own mother started ahead toward him. Then her arm was caught by Karagoz and she halted.

  The Turks were wringing their hands. They did not know what to do. But they knew me.

  One by one they knelt and, slowly, moaning, they began to pound their heads against the grass of the lawn.

  I stood there, glaring at the scene.

  There was a sound behind me.

  Something slipped past me.

  It was Utanc.

  She didn't look at me. She didn't stop to soothe me.

  She went out onto the lawn. She was covered with a white hooded cloak and she was veiled. Her feet were bare and had left a trail of water on the flagstones.

  She went straight to the small boy.

  She said, "Oh, you poor little boy. You were trying to protect me."

  She felt for his pulse. She looked at his limbs.

  Then she picked him up and carried him toward me. Then past me. Her eyes did not even flick at me.

  She took the small boy into her room.

  She closed the door.

  The staff melted away.

  I did not know what to do. I was in a spinning confusion. I could not add it all up.

  I went to a corner of the yard that was very dark and sat down under some bushes. I was sort of numb, like you feel when you are going over a cliff and are only halfway down.

  After a while a bearded old doctor from the town drove up. Karagoz showed him the way to Utanc's room.

  The doctor was in there a very long time.

  Finally he came out.

  I was instantly in front of him. I said, "How is Utanc?"

  He looked at me. "Is that the boy's name? Odd name for a boy."

  "No, no," I said. "Not the boy. The woman! How is she?"

  "Ah, she is very upset. You see, the boy had, she says, a very pretty face. His nose is broken and his cheekbone is pushed in. She offered me real money to repair it."

  I saw what it was all about now. She had some weird female concern for aesthetics. "Well! Can you? Can you?"

  He hesitated. Then, "The nose, somewhat. But the cheekbone..."

  "Fly him to Istanbul!"

  He shook his head. "No reason to do that. They can't do any more than I did, no matter their fancy equipment."

  He left.

  I went back and sat down behind some bushes in the dark corner. I was trying to think, trying to reach some conclusions. I felt as though somebody had died—the lingering, heavy grief you can't do anything about. The awful consequences of the events were boring into me harder and harder.

  Utanc would never talk to me again. She would never dance for me. She would never even look at me. I felt she was cut off from me forever.

  I couldn't live with that.

  I tried futilely to dredge up anything I knew in psychology that would handle any part of this. There was nothing. The grief became heavier and heavier.

  All the rest of that day I sat there in the gloom. I sat there all through the night.

  The next morning, base commander Faht Bey entered the yard. He was going to go into the patio but Karagoz came over and pointed to where I was sitting under the shrubs.

  Faht Bey came over. "Sultan Bey," he said, "please do not murder that new girl you got. We have enough trouble without more corpses to explain away."

  Dully, I said, "I didn't try to kill her."

  "Well, the staff here thinks you did. And Karagoz told me that the girl is terrified for her life."

  "Terrified for her life?" I said. It was so far from the way I felt, it just didn't sink in right away.

  Faht Bey nodded. "Karagoz says she was already afraid she'd be attacked here. And actually, in my opinion, we ourselves are not well defended at all. We don't even have alarm systems to alert us in event of a major attack."

  He looked at me for a while. Then he said, "Will you please promise me not to kill that girl and leave her body lying about? If you want to be rid of her, why, just send her away."

  It was his parting shot. He left. But he might as well have used an 800-kilovolt blastick.

  The thought of Utanc going away made my blood freeze in my veins!

  That was the thought I had been trying not to think! That she would leave!

  Oh, it was one thing not to be talked to, to be shunned. But it was quite another for her not to be around at all! I could not tolerate the idea of it!

  My wits were churning.

  Somehow I got the thought to come straight.

  She felt undefended.

  Perhaps if she felt defended, she would not get the idea of leaving!

  Driven by this, I rushed to my office. I got out pen and paper.

  I began to design a defense alarm system.

  The more I worked at it, the more carried away I became. I would make it really good!

  I started with the gate. One of the numbers outside it could be pushed. That would call the whole staff to defend the gate!

  I put an alarm buzzer in her room so she would be able to press it and alert the staff if she was afraid.

  And then I got to thinking about what Faht had said about the base being not well defended. So I designed an alarm-signal system for it that would assemble all the base personnel into the hangar; they would have gun emplacements in the center and be able to shoot at every entrance.

  I put the signal buzzer for it in my secret office. By treading on just one tile and twisting one's foot, one could assemble the entire base to man the hangar and be ready to shoot.

  I finished it up. I marked it top priority. I wrote an order that the staff would be drilled and another order that the whole base personnel would be drilled.

  She would hear that the place was now defended.

  It was all I could think of to do.

  The heavy feeling of loss came over me again.

  I knew I had been parted from Utanc and I thought it was forever.

  I was crushed.

  PART TWENTY-ONE

  Chapter 1

  More to take my mind off my troubles than as a matter of concern, that afternoon I slouched into my secret office and turned on the viewer. After all, Raht and Terb were on the job and we would soon have the platen and could end Heller.

  Frankly, I was too far gone to pay much attention. But after a bit I came up to strong interest in what was going on.

  Bang-Bang was taking Heller down in the Gracious Palms elevator. Heller, I could see in the elevator mirror, was dressed in a white, V-neck sweater over a sea-green silk shirt. He was wearing slacks to match the shirt. His red baseball cap was on
the back of his blond head. I wondered dully how Heller always managed to look so neat and yet so casual. Maybe if I had looked like that, Utanc would have paid more attention to me.

  Bang-Bang was in a severely tailored black suit, black shirt and white tie—the typical gangster setup. But he was wearing an old, leather, taxi driver's cap that looked so out of place with his suit that it seemed to be an incomplete disguise.

  "But I tell you it IS important!" Bang-Bang was saying. He seemed very agitated. "I came right down here! There was your name, right on the bulletin board! It had a time and everything! PSYCHIATRIC CONSULTATION!"

  "I know," said Heller. "But is that really bad?"

  "Oh, Jesus Christ, yes!" said Bang-Bang. "They must think you're loopy! I see you just don't grab at the seriousness of it, Jet."

  So it was Jet, now. Must have gotten it from Izzy.

  "Well, I know," said Heller. "But..."

  "They're mind benders!" said Bang-Bang. "Shrinks! They can put you in the slammer the rest of your life with no charges. You can't even turn state's evidence or take the Fifth! They got no sense of legality but the law and fuzz is all behind them."

  They were down at the garage level now and walking through the garage.

  "But if..." Heller tried to say.

  "You don't get it," said Bang-Bang. "They just sign an order and put you away with the loonies. They jam you full of drugs and fry your brains! They even take your skull apart with an ice pick! They ain't happy unless you're a complete vegetable! And you don't have to have done nothing! The government depends on them completely to do away with birds they don't want around!"

  "Well, well," said Heller. "That sounds pretty bad."

  "It IS bad. And these shrinks are the looniest of the lot!"

  They had arrived at a car.

  It was the old, old Really Red cab! And it certainly looked different! It was a shining orange. It was all groomed up. It had no chipped windows. As Heller opened the door to get in back, a dome light came on and I could see shiny new leather upholstery. It looked like a brand-new antique!

  Bang-Bang slammed the door behind Heller and then jumped under the wheel in front. He started the cab up. The engine roared into life and then purred as he backed it out of its stall.