By ten o' clock "thousands and thousands" of people have swarmed in through the wide-open gates to the Apparatus hangar, with snapping banners and marching bands and tup by the tankard. But the ceremony formally begins with a barrage of "daylight fireworks" which creates the image of a planet, before it bursts into a fireball.
I'm not sure that's the sort of imagery you want for your mission to save a world from self-destruction. Maybe their stock was limited and the planet-go-boom fireworks were all they had.
Gris notices a crane lifting a platform covered with Homeview cameramen to get good shots of the festivities, along with nearly a dozen newsvans' worth of reporters crowding in to get pictures of Jettero Heller. The agent watches Heller shake hands and pose for the cameras without any sense of concern. Everything's under control, everything is wonderful.
Then an Officer Bis from Fleet Intelligence, who I don't remember appearing in a previous chapter but refuse to check, enters the scene and leads a trio of reporters over to Gris. There's no dialogue, but Gris describes how Bis helps him pose for some pictures of his own, scenes of Gris scowling at Heller from behind, or clenching his gloved fists with fury, or chewing on a jam-smeared bit of cake sculpted like a nymph's hand. Gris is happy to go along and look dangerous and powerful for them. Then he admires the hundred dancing girls drifting along the tup bars.
A limo pulls up to disgorge the King's Own Astrographer, Captain Tars Roake, who refuses to reveal where Mission Ea... ah, The Mission is headed. Even though reporters speculate that due to Tug One's distinctive and explosive engines it must be leaving the galaxy, possibly to go back to the "old home galaxy" to recover "some ancestral monument from the ruins of our racial planet?" Presumably the reporters are referring to the Voltarian race as a whole, and not just the Mancos... so is hundred and something thousand years long enough for an extragalactic race to develop into distinct planet-based subraces? Or were the Mancos discovered by the Voltarians and incorporated into the Confederacy?
Anyway, Gris notices everyone craning their necks to look skyward, and looks up to see, three miles overhead... wow, he has good eyesight, and a natural rangefinder. Well there's a good two hundred and fifty starfighters doing formation flying overhead. They end by discharging their weapons, "Mile-long, eighth-mile wide" trails of flame that spell out "GOOD LUCK, JET!" Which is a pretty neat trick, getting those lines of weapons fire to spell that instead of making a big plaid mess, or hitting each other in the crossfire. After the shockwave fades, the pilots all land to join the celebrations.
And then the crowd goes bonkers when Hightee Heller shows up dressed like an angel. A special effects crew duplicates her image into a hundred and fifty foot hologram, which steps towards Tug One to christen it. "Little ship, I give thee life!" And a smooch. "THY NAME IS NOW PRINCE CAUCALSIA!"
And it is this that finally penetrates the methamphetamine haze surrounding what passes for Gris' brain, as a part of him realizes that anyone watching the broadcast of the christening can now do a search for that name, which will lead them to Folk Legend 894M, which will lead them to Blito-P3, aka Earth. After making this observation, Gris... has no further reaction. No sudden burst of cold sobriety, no giddy, manic laughter. He doesn't even shift in his seat, assuming he's sitting down. He watches the fireworks and takes a carrot when Bugs Bunny appears to comfort him that "They'll never use those pictures, doc. No violence."
So did Hubbard have to shell out money to Warner Bros. to use Bugs? Or is it okay because this is a "satire?" Did Warner Bros. even notice, or were they browbeaten into compliance? Did they think this was good publicity instead of dragging a beloved icon into a wretched story?
I am now more interested in the ramifications of a character's cameo than the story that he appears in.
Snelz' company does some marching and shooting "flitter" into the air over the crowd. And then someone yells "Yeah, yeah! So you Fleet guys think the Apparatus troops can't drill!" And then It Is On, and the two branches start brawling and food goes flying and the cameras get nice footage of a pleasant ceremony turning into a riot. Heller commands that the choruses start up with "Spaceward, Ho!" as he clambers aboard what is now Prince Caucalsia, a name that I'm already tired of typing.
Let's enjoy more of L. Ron Hubbard's songwriting, shall we? ...Look, I had to read it. It's only fair.
Spaceward, ho!To the stars we go!Upward, upward, upward!
High, high, high!
Roll the blast! Roll the blast!
Close all locks! Grab sky!
Spaceward, ho!
The planet flees below!
Thunder, thunder, thunder!
Flame, flame, flame!
Feed the fuel! Feed the fuel!Correct the course and aim!
Spaceward, ho!
Some other land to know!
Target, target, target!
Drive, drive, drive!
Bore the black! Bore the black!
Fasten belts! G Five!Space is a mistress!
Space is a whore!
Space is a spell
No spacer can ignore.
So burn, burn, burn!
And shove, shove, shove!
We're into space another time,
Lured from home and love
Into hope and terror,
Into stars above.
Here we go!
Here we go!
Spaceward, HO!
Yes, that's the spacing and punctuation, with no discernible pattern or melody or rhythm or anything. Just a bunch of words repeated in triplicate. I can't imagine how you'd sing it. And this is how the author rewards us for enduring six hundred pages of his book.
So the riot police descend on the brawl, while Heller... this is just weird. Heller hits some switches to trigger some special beams, because "Tugs have beams that, in space, which is silent, fasten to hulls of ships and conduct sound along them." The question here is not how, because the answer is "magical sci-fi technology." The question is why. Do spaceships not have, you know, radios, communicators, a guy in a spacesuit standing on the hull waving semaphore flags? Why would you develop this revolutionary Sound Beam technology for tugboats?
For trolling, evidently. Heller hits all the other ships in the hangar with these Sound Beams, setting off a clamor of sirens and alarms as The Deathtrap Formerly Known as Tug One takes off. I guess he likes loud noises and wants plenty to accompany his grand departure. Gris' shaking hands have trouble closing the airlock (he's finally coming down from his high), but Heller helps him get in and close the door. Meanwhile two hundred feet below one "guardsman" is blowing kisses to the departing spaceship before standing dejectedly (good eyes, Gris, spotting the Countess in a huge crowd from that high, through the air lock and the engine backwash). And they're off.
We were on our totally advertised, totally certain to be shown on every planet, secret way.We were headed for Earth.But Gods only knew what would happen now!
Which gods, Hubbard? Clarence the God of Chutney? Shan-Dao the Spinning Turtle? mwaDngane the God of Fleecing Tourists? Tizi-Nochi the Spider-Lizard? It's been over six hundred pages and you never made an effort to explain the theology you've made half-assed references to throughout this stupid book!
One thing's for sure, though - whoever Gris is talking about, they're probably woods gods.
Will Earth discoverit is the targetof an alien invasionin time to fight back?ReadMISSION EARTHVolume 2BLACK GENESIS:Fortress of Evil
You know, some books are nice enough to give the reader a choice in the matter, Hubbard.
BRAVO!!! Not for Hubbard of course, but for you for successfully navigating the first 10% of this revol...er, riveting series. Although I guess a nod to ol' Hubbabubba is ok, since he gave you the raw material to produce another wonderful spork.
ReplyDeleteCouple things: I guess the subtitle of this book, The Invader's Plan, was horribly accurate, since that was the entirety of the book. Ugh.
Also, Hubbabubba wrote in one of his many Scientology writings that when doing advertising, particularly of books, the consumer is to be TOLD to buy it, and to specifically NOT offer a choice. Something about "projecting intention" and people responding to "easy decisions"...amazing how those doing these things never realized (or ignored realizing) the very real possibility that this same tactic could be/was being used on them...
Lastly, quick addition in my head equals 141 days to do this book. Rounded to 600 pages, that's 4.25 pages/day. The next volume is only 477 pages, and rounded to 470 means you'll only have to endure 110 days digesting and excreting it!
I certainly hope you're willing to do so; it's a heavy burden to bear, but this is one gift to humanity which is priceless. May you have safe passage through the next installment.
On behalf of the entire population of Earth, thank you and congratulations! We await part 2 in earnest!