The Stainless Steel Rat Goes to Hell ssr-10

by Harry Harrison

  “I can answer that,” I answered. “With Professor Coypu’s help we will build a machine to travel to these distant universes. And we will get Angelina back.”

  “That is wonderful news. But let us not do any of that until after breakfast,” she added with womanly practicality. “I’m sure that we will need all our strength to do all of that.”

  Chapter 9

  I waited until James and Bolivar had joined us at the breakfast table, and had eaten their stringy eggs, before I brought them all up to speed.

  “Meeting come to order.” They all looked intently at me—with the exception of Professor Coypu who was muttering to himself as he scrawled mathematical equations onto a large scratchpad. “The professor will not mind if I simplify drastically what he revealed to me this morning. Heaven and Hell are in different universes and we can get to them. Plus there are other universes we can reach—and Angelina is in one of them. With a little help from us he can build a machine that we can use to get her back. Understood?”

  Everyone nodded and smiled. Except for Coypu, who sniffed miffedly. He could apparently do two things at one time because, while still noodling his equations, he spoke.

  “Your simplification is utter nonsense. These equations prove…”

  “That you know what you are doing,” I broke in before everything got murky again. “And we know what we are going to do. We are going to find one of the Slakey clones. Unless they used their machine to leave this planet, they must still be here. I had the Special Corps put the pressure on the local military to seal this planet tight. Like a roach motel they can come in but they can’t go out. An intense and thorough search has been going on at this moment…” “Let the Slakeys go,” Sybil said.

  Silence descended. Even Coypu stopped writing. Sybil smiled sweetly at her stunned audience. “Think latterly,” she said. “Think subtly. The trouble with you men is that all the testosterone and other hormones you have whizzing around your systems tend to make your actions very predictable. So try to be a little more devious, just this once. These men you are looking for, Slakey and Company, are just as masculine as the rest of you and will be expecting you to do what you are planning to be doing.” “Then what should we do?” I asked.

  “Ease up, allow for loopholes and human error. Let them test the doors until they find one unlocked. When they get out have them followed.”

  “That won’t be easy…”

  “Yes it will,” Coypu said. “I have been considering a new and unique theory about the effects of inter—universe travel;” he held up his pages of equations, “that I have now proved to my satisfaction is true. It is called entropic delimitation.”

  He smiled with scientific satisfaction, so pleased with himself that he tapped happily on his teeth with his fingernails, looked around at our glazed stares.

  “I will elucidate. When you were in Hell you observed that certain changes occurred to people there. Skin color became encarmined, new appendages grew, insanity progressed. These equations prove positively that the changes are not physical in the sense that they are made by chemicals in the atmosphere and so forth. No indeed. These changes are caused by entropic delimitation, the basic incompatibility of material taken from one universe to another. Once I had realized this it was simplicity itself to construct an E—meter. A machine that embodies immense possibilities while remaining simple in construction. Here it is.”

  He dug around in his shirt pocket, took out something small and placed it carefully on the table. We all leaned close.

  “It looks like a stone tied to a piece of string,” I said.

  “It is. When I analyzed your reports and saw the direction in which my researchers were going, I took the precaution of obtaining some Hell—matter. From your discarded clothing, Jim. There were bits of gravel in your pockets, from all that slithering about on the ground I imagine. Now—the proof of the pudding is in the eating.”

  He picked up the string by the loose end, stood and walked over towards me. Stopped and held this complicated scientific device out so that the stone was suspended just before my nose. I looked at it cross—eyedly.

  “Is it moving?” he asked.

  “It seems to be swinging towards me!”

  “It is. You were in Hell long enough for entropic delimitation to affect your body, if ever so slightly.” He held the thing out over Sybil’s hand and nodded happily. Then walked to the twins, held it in turn behind one head and then the other. He pointed at James.

  “You are the brother who operated the machine and did not pass through to Hell.”

  James could only nod in silence. Coypu admired his invention. “If I can get this strong a response after such a brief transit—1ust think how Jiving Justin will light up in the dark! As soon as I have manufactured a few thousand meters, simple enough to do, all the restrictions on free movement will be lifted. No attempt will be made to apprehend the miscreants or stop them from leaving—”

  “Great!” I cried aloud gustily. “They can run but they cannot hide. Every train, bus, spaceship, scooter, rickshaw, every form of transportation, will have a meter close by. We’ll follow them and they will lead us to another of their machines and we will grab it and the good guys will win!”

  Of course it didn’t happen that easily. Instead of—trying to run, Slakey and Slakey had apparently gone to ground. When they didn’t walk into any of our traps, the good Professor Coypu went back to the workbench and improved upon his original model. Which, all things considered, was pretty crude. He built larger ones with amplifying circuits that would work over greater distances. Then military jets quartered the skies over the islands—and had a trace within hours.

  “Here,” the Special Corps technician said, opening up a large map and tapping his finger on a red—marked site. We all leaned close. “The pilot of the search plane took off, circled for altitude—and all the bells went off.”

  “That is right in the middle of a city,” I said.

  “It certainly is. In fact it is the center of the capital of this planet, Hammar City. The first reading we had almost blew the needle off its bearings. And it hasn’t moved since we spotted it. But there are two other, weaker traces in the city—and one of them is moving.”

  “Is it possible that there could be another machine, which would explain the strong trace? And the other contacts might be a couple of Slakeys?”

  “Professor Coypu is of the same opinion. He says if you plan to take any offensive actions you must speak to him first.”

  “No problem. Where is he?”

  “In the nightclub downstairs doing research.”

  “Research …?” It was mind—boggling time again. “But which club? There are seven in this hotel.”

  “The Green Lizard. Very ethnic.”

  I wondered what could be ethnic about lizards; I soon found out. The sound of jungle drums filled the hot, moist air, while the screams of nocturnal animals cut through the semidarkness. I ducked under the low leaves of the trees and almost choked myself on a vine.

  “May I be of service, human visitor?” a large green lizard said, smiling faugedly before me. While the head was that of a lizard the green body was human and enthusiastically female. Painted green I realized, this fact was visible even in the dim jungle light. Also visible was the even more interesting fact that paint on skin was all that she was wearing; nothing else. I wondered just what kind of research the professor was doing here. “Coypu,” I said. “I’m joining him. Small man, gray hair, good teeth…” “This way, please, dear human visitor.” She led me through the jungle—a fine figure to follow to a log table. Coypu sat on a chair stump just as naked, though not as attractive, as my leading lizard. He was sucking at the straw of a tall drink in a section of bamboo while he scribbled equations on a large leaf. “I’ll have whatever he has,” I said, then forced my gaze back on the professor when she slithered away. “Ahh, Jim, sit down.” “I don’t want to interrupt your work.” “You’re not. I have just finished with all o
f my research. So that tomorrow I’ll be able to finalize my scientific paper titled ‘Saunan Substitutions for Reenhancing Subliminal Sexual Inhibitions. ‘” “Sounds fascinating.” “Indeed it does. I’m also writing a shorter and more popular version for the Internet called ‘Chicklist for Hungry Hunters. ‘” “You’re onto a winner. What did you want to talk to me about?” “Plans. We must find a fail—safe way of getting our hands on an intact model of Slakey’s universal differentiator. My research cannot proceed until that has been done. Twice now his machines have gone up in flames before they could be examined. Let us try not to let that happen again. I have constructed a device that will make that possible.” “What is it?” “A temporal inhibitor. An intellectual offspring of my temporal helix. Which you will remember, since you traveled on it, when you traveled back in time and had some interesting adventures while you were busy saving the world. You deserve some credit in this invention as well. You will also remember that when you saved the Special Corps from time attack you met those time travelers from the future, who gave you a machine. It froze everyone around you with a time stasis. Once I knew it could be done the rest was easy.” “You’re a great man, Professor” “I know that. Finish your drink and sally forth. You’ll find the temporal inhibitor, or TI for short, on the table in my room. It works just like the one you used before. Turn it on and everything around you freezes in time. Except for you, of course. Go, Jim, go forth with the TI and use it to get the dimensional machine. Leave me now for I have important research to do here and you are a married man.” I went. Picked the lock on his suite and looked at the flashlight on the table. I picked it up and turned it on. Instead of lighting up it hummed industriously. Nothing else appeared to have happened that I could see. I turned it off, dug a coin out of my pocket and threw it into the air, turned on the flashlight. The coin hung in midair, dropped only when I turned the TI off. “Next stop Hammar City!” I used the room phone to call the suite where the boys were staying. There was a recorded message for me suggesting that I join them in Waterworld, the most popular nightspot in the hotel. I slipped the TI into my pocket and left, and found the nightspot easily enough, following the sound of wet music and splashing waves. But I hesitated at the entrance, having had more than enough of nightclubs after the Green Lizard. This one was better lit and provided more clean—cut fun. With the lighting effects and almost nul gravity field, the illusion of being underwater was very good. The waitresses had mermaid tails and swam laden trays of drinks and food to the floating tables. The happy customers danced a few feet off the floor, twining themselves sinuously about to the happy beat. I could see Bolivar dancing with Sybil, both enjoying themselves greatly. He didn’t seem to mind when James cut in—or was it the other way around? Not that it mattered. They were young and in high spirits and deserved every bit of relaxation they could get. I could take care of getting the machine myself while they danced the night away. I was picking up some needed devices from my room when the phone pinged and turned itself on. Inskipp glared out of the screen at me.

  “What do you think you are doing, diGriz?” “Just running a little errand. Picking up something for Professor Coypu,” I said innocently. A scowl replaced the glare.

  “No you’re not—at least not alone. I know everything, remember. Including exactly what it is you are getting for Coypu. There have been too many mistakes made of late. Sloppy work. That practice ends now. Captain Grissle of the Space Marines has his squad waiting for you in the lobby at this very moment.”

  “Thank you, thank you, you are kindness itself. I’ll join him right away.”

  I would of course exit from the back entrance of the hotel and avoid the noxious military presence of the marines. There was a loud hammering on the door.

  “While the squad is waiting in the lobby that will be the captain coming for you now. Go.”

  I seized up the TI and thought of using it on the marine, but the snarl from the phone changed all that.

  “I’m watching you, diGriz—no games!”

  I muttered a few favorite profanities under my breath as I opened the door. A burly marine with nasty tiny red eyes and a jaw like an anvil was standing outside. He saluted a quivering tense salute. I touched the flashlight—TI to my brow~

  “Transportation to the airport is waiting,” he shouted. “After you, sir”

  It was all very well organized; at least the Special Corps could get this kind of thing right. Marines stamping, guns waving, sirens wailing; the usual. Captain Grissle briefed me on the way, ticking off the points with a raised finger.

  “One. The Hammar City police have the area where we are going under close observation. Investigation has shown that the machine you are looking for is in a meeting hail owned by an organization called the Circle of Sanctity. Very exclusive, bigwig politicians and industrialists. Some of the members of this group are being interrogated right now.”

  “Do you know what this whole operation is about?”

  “I do, Agent diGriz. I have been in on this investigation from the very beginning. Point two. Unlike the other churches involved in this investigation, this operation appears to be all male. Instead of looking forward to Heaven, this lot is into money—and power. An industrialist named Baron Krummung seems to be in charge.” “They get rich, he gets richer.”

  “That’s it.”

  “Identification?”

  “Positive. A bit older, fatter and balder. But he’s Slakey, no doubt at all.”

  Another incarnation. How many of them were there knocking around the galaxy? Depressing thought—there could be any number, armies of the same man, images clicked at different points in time. And all of them sharing, the same thoughts and memories. That didn’t seem possible—I decided not to even think about it.

  “How do you want to handle this operation?” the captain asked.

  “Am I in charge?”

  “Completely. Orders received from the highest level.”

  “Inskipp?”

  “None other.”

  “He’s getting mellow in his old age.”

  “I doubt that. We follow your instructions exactly. As long as I and my two sergeants are with you at all times.”

  Chapter 10

  The flight in the Balustic—Orbit SST did not take very long at all. Plenty of G’s at each end, acceleration and deceleration, with free fail in between. I slept when we were weightless, found it to be very relaxing indeed. And I had plenty of sleep to catch up with. Ground transportation, and another marine officer, a lieutenant this time, were waiting for us. There was a lot of snapping of stiff salutes, so dear to the military heart. I waited impatiently until all thumbs were back on seams on trouser legs.

  “Tell me. Lieutenant, has anything changed since the last report?”

  “Negative, sir. The detectors are keeping track of the two individuals just as before. They have not moved again and we have kept our distance from them. Neither of them is in the vicinity of the machine.”

  “Do they have any idea they are being tracked?”

  “Negative. We have never approached them—never even seen them in fact. Our orders were to keep distant observation until you had secured the machine.”

  “I’ll do that now. Lead the way.”

  I was keeping this operation as simple as possible since I didn’t want a third goof—up. The front door to the building was already open and secured; more marines were keeping out of sight inside. My armed guard trotted behind me when I trotted, stopped when I stopped.

  “Tell me again,” I whispered. The lieutenant pointed to high, double doors at the end of the hail.

  “That’s it, where they meet. It is a conference room, circular, about twenty meters across.” He handed me a small metal box with a collection of dials on it. “Your detector, sir.”

  “Give it to the captain to carry. Is the door unlocked?”

  “Don’t know, we haven’t been near it. But I have the key here.”

  “Good. Here’s what we do.
We walk quietly up to the door. You put the key into the lock. You try it. If it is locked then you unlock it. As soon as you are sure it is unlocked you give the nod—and pull the door open.” I held up the TI. “This is not a flashlight but is a temporal inhibitor. You open the door and I turn it on. Everything in that room will be fixed in time. Nothing there, human or mechanical, will be able to move until 1 turn it off again. Which I will not do until the machine is secured. Do you all understand?” Their eyes were glazed—and with good reasons. I shrugged.

  “You don’t have to. Are you all ready?” They nodded enthusiastically. “Then let’s do it.”

  They all saluted again and at least they were quiet about it with no stamping boots this time. Grissle and his two sergeants were breathing on my neck as we crept forward I readied the TI. The lieutenant put the key in the keyhole, turned it slowly—then pulled hard and the door flew open.

  “Zapped!” I shouted as I switched on the TI. It was pitch dark inside and I couldn’t see a thing.

  “Can you turn on the lights?” I asked. There was no answer. Frozen in time. The lieutenant was strangely off balance and still pulling on the door handle. My glassy—eyed squad were as still as statues. I stepped back a bit and as soon as the field enveloped them they could move.

  “We’re going in there,” I said. “But I can’t see a thing—and

  I don’t dare turn this device off to find a light switch. Suggestions?”

  “Battle torches,” Captain Grissle said, shifting the detector to his left hand and unclicking his torch from his belt. A bright beam flared out, followed by the others.

  “Stay close,” I said. “Hold hands, hold my arms—or you’ll look like him.” I pointed to the crouching and immobile lieutenant; they all cuddled together. We shuffled forward slowly like competitors in an eight—legged sack race, towards the far end of the room.

  “Reading steady,” Grissle said, “and the needle is pointing at that door over there.”