Mission: Earth "The Enemy Within" by Ron L. Hubbard Read Free Book Online Page A

commissar had just hung up his handgun when he saw his own plate and it was EMPTY!"
    The two small boys strained forward to get every word. Utanc leaned toward them. She continued, "So they spotted footprints in the snow and they got out their dogs and they trailed Goldilocks! They trailed her across mountains and ice packs on rivers and through forests. Wow! What a chase! And they finally got Goldilocks up a tree."
    Utanc sat back. She took another sip from the silver cup. She didn't seem to be going to go on. The two small boys strained forward. "Yes?" "Yes?"
    Utanc smiled dreamily. Then she said, "So they caught her and (bleeped) her and everybody had a lot of fun."
    The two small boys began to laugh. They laughed and laughed and so did Utanc. The little boys got to laughing so hard they were rolling around on the grass, holding their stomachs.
    Finally it calmed down. Utanc smiled at them prettily. She got the silver pot again. "Have some more tea," she said.
    It was such a charming scene! Of course, Utanc had been subjected to the Russian propaganda machine. And naturally she would not be timid talking to little boys. But it was so sweet of her to be taking her time to educate these two little Turkish brats. It showed a kind, indulgent heart.
    It was as she reached out with the pot that I caught sight of her naked armpit. I had not realized anything could affect me so much. I suddenly couldn't breathe.
    And then that excrement named Karagoz came around the end of the inner garden wall and coughed. I got up and pretended I had lost something and walked off.
    The husky, low sound of her voice haunted my ears. For the rest of that afternoon I couldn't think of anything else.
    Imagine the thrill when, at eight o'clock that night, one of the small boys came to me.
    "Utanc says to take a bath and get on your turban and go sit in the salon."
    And believe me, I was into the turban and caftan like a shot and into that lounge zip. I sat on the cushions and waited.
Chapter 7
    The yellow-orange flame light painted the room. She slipped quietly through the door. Like a shadow she flowed to her pillows. She sat cross-legged in the center of the room. She put down a large, silver, mirror-shiny tray, her cura irizva and tambourine. She wore baggy pantaloons of gray, a silver-embroidered short jacket that hid her breasts but exposed her stomach and arms. She had a silver band around her hair. She was veiled.
    Her head was down. She was not looking at me.
    She just sat there. From time to time she sighed.
    I was afraid to speak for fear she would run away. But after a very long time, I whispered, "Why are you downcast?"
    In a very low, husky voice she said, "O Master, I am sad because I cannot tolerate the thought of being without the bare necessities of life. I sigh for the deprivation of not having silk handkerchiefs, French bubble bath, antiperspirant and Chennel Number 5. I require only minor cash to buy them—a few hundred thousand lira."
    She looked so sad, slumped there. She was a wild, primitive nomad of the Kara Kum desert. It would not do to remind her she was now a slave. Naturally she needed money to buy necessities. How she must have missed them, tending camels in that sandy waste.
    "They are yours," I said in a lordly manner.
    At once she sat up straight. Her eyes flicked at me and then were demurely downcast.
    She picked up her little drum and began to beat upon it, slowly, timidly. Then she began to hum a wordless, plaintive tune.
    I knew she was encouraging herself.
    The drumbeat grew stronger. Then in midbar she changed over from the drum to the silver tray and began to beat upon it instead.
    The tune she hummed became stronger, faster, less plaintive.
    As she sat, her body began to sway. She came to her knees. Her body swayed more.
    Her bracelets were hitting the tray with a crash! The beat became faster. In a sitting position, but sitting on nothing, she began to kick out with her feet, one after the other!
    In that