Mission: Earth "Fortune of Fear" by Ron L. Hubbard Read Free Book Online

to ask for names in such a place. Such wealthy patrons must feel known.
    The Countess was looking over Mamie Boomp's list to see if she had missed anything important like the right color necklace to go with the breakfast, sea-green organdy, casual house wrap. Absently, she reached into a pocket of her cloak and handed him something.
    At first, I thought it was the necklace. I couldn't see as she was looking at the list, not him.
    The accounts manager said, "Jerome Terrance Wister, Empire State Building? That's an office." She must have given him the scrap on which I had written Heller's address.
    "Yes," said the Countess absently. "I suppose it is. My man is very important. He is here to make the planet run right so I suppose he has to have an office. Could
    I add an aquamarine necklace to that list here? I overlooked it."
    The accounts manager walked away. He had gone into another office to phone. They always do. It would be impolite, even nasty, to discuss money in front of a customer.
    I tried to turn my sound up and overhear. All I got was a jet plane taking off over at the airport.
    Oh, Heller, you might have been in trouble before, but you're really over your head now! $178,985.65 plus New York tax and an aquamarine necklace! You'll drown!
    After a bit the accounts manager came back. "Where did you just come from, Miss?"
    Oho, I bet that had been a surprise to Heller! He might even be feeling amazed. But he sure would shortly be sick if the accounts manager hadn't yet given him the total!
    The Countess Krak fished around in her pocket and came up with the messy ticket folder, now all ripped out. "Afyon, Turkey," she said. And she held out the folder with that on it.
    "The identity verifies, then," said the accounts manager. "I will add the necklace to this bill. They just called up the price. So, with your permission, I will total it."
    The Countess Krak was still reverifying her list.
    The accounts manager wrote a final figure on an invoice. He pushed it toward the Countess Krak and tendered her a pen. "If you please," he said, "your signature."
    "How do I sign this?" said the Countess Krak, taking the pen.
    "Why, just like this, of course. Don't change it in any way. It always causes a terrible row when they do."
    He put down the item I had written Heller's Earth name and address on. Then he turned it over.
    The Countess's eyes focused on Sultan Bey and/or Concubine. Roman Villa. Afyon, Turkey.
    IT WAS MY OWN SQUEEZA CREDIT CARD!
    I reeled. There must be some awful error! I yanked the pack out of my pocket and shuffled rapidly through them. The Squeeza card was GONE!
    Oh, Gods, in my haste to find something to write Heller's address on, I had lucklessly chosen the only credit card in the deck that had a totally blank back and was not in laminated plastic! And it was a credit company whose monthly interest charge, in one month of unpaid balance, would equal the original bill! The worst credit hounder of the mob!
    There was still a chance. She might bungle the signing! They still might detect she was not Utanc, not the "concubine," and sling her in jail for forgery. I held my breath.
    But the Countess Krak was obeying orders. Penmanship was a fitting part of her criminal talents. She signed it just like she had been told: "Sultan Bey and/or Concubine. Roman Villa. Afyon, Turkey."
    With a sickening surge, I suddenly realized that she had thought I had given her a credit card! She was so (bleeped) stupid she didn't even realize she was forging anything! She would have that as a defense if they detected it!
    But the manager took the finished product, compared it expertly to the card and nodded. All hope died within me.
    "Miss," he said to the Countess Krak, "according to the accounts and credit report I just got from the Central
    Credit Card Bureau, your master is always easy to locate. We can find him right down to the hour and minute at any time. But you, I am sorry to say, having a WATS phone line you use all over the