The Stainless Steel Rat Joins the Circus ssr-11

by Harry Harrison

  I opened my mouth to protest. Shut it again when I realized the futility. A holiday in friendly Swartzlegen seemed to be very much in order. Chaise drove me to the station himself. Gave me anther bundle of money and a telephone. And issued more orders to which I nodded, but didn’t listen. I knew what had to be done. Something dangerous, possibly deadly, in the sunny south.

  It started to rain as soon as the train reached the southern plain. The landscape became darker and more dismal, black wet rock piled on more black wet rock, with black clouds scudding across the dismal landscape. Quite depressing-but only to me. Everyone else on the train seemed to be working hard at getting drunk. The men at least. Not the women. There were very few of them, even fewer children. There was a bar at the end of every car, and they were doing very good business indeed. Not much of a family outing. Just a way for the lads to let off steam and spend what credits they had before returning to the joys of industry.

  A few hour later we reached the worker’s paradise.

  The end of Swartzlegen Station opened right onto the sea. An elevated promenade ran along the seafront, stretching out to the horizon in both directions. I leaned on the railing in the driving rain and watched the waves rush high up on the blackpebbled beach. When the waves ran back again they carried some of the stones along with them, grating and grumbling like underwater thunder. There was a good bit of that in the sky too. Sudden flares of lightning followed by earsplitting claps of thunder.

  Lightning flared again out to sea. Giving me a quick glimpse of pale land against the black clouds. And the forms of low, clustered buildings. Sikuzote Island and the atomic generator. I turned my back to the ocean and scanned the row of buildings that lined the other side of the promenade. Amusement arcades, bars, restaurants, bars, squalid-looking hotels, bars, electronics, bars, souvenirs, bars, telephones, bars. I got the message. I had not drunk anything on the train. I would head for the nearest bar and get a beer. But not before I contacted Bolivar.

  The automated electronic shop was having a sale on detectors. I pushed in enough money for one. Turned it on and swept it over my body. It bleeped like an electronic pinball machine. Chaise sure didn’t trust me. I dug out the coins, buttons, discseven a nail in my new shoes. And of course the new phone he had given me. I was getting very tired of this constant attention. I went and threw the whole lot into the ocean before buying a new phone. I put this into my bag and headed for the adjacent bar. Where I bought a beer and found an empty booth. Easy enough to do since the place was deserted. Took out the phone and tapped the buttons. Bolivar answered on the third ring.

  “Good to hear from you. No luck yet on finding Kaia’s place in Sunkist-by-the-Sea, but James is beavering away at it. How are you doing? ”

  “Traveling on a new assignment.” I told him about the planned sabotage and my starring role.

  “Sounds dangerous. Could you use a little help?”

  “Not really-but thanks for offering. If I can’t do it alone it probably can’t be done. What you can do is take this phone number and call me if there are any developments.”

  “Got you. Stay safe. “

  Safe. I appreciated the thought but doubted very much of it could be done. I turned the phone off. Changed it from ring to vibrate. Drank the rest of the beer, picked up my bag and went to get more.

  “Pretty rainy today,” I said to the head barman. He was polishing a glass and keeping a keen eye on his staff of robot bartenders.

  “It’s always rainy today.” A real cheery soul.

  “Not too full.’

  “Not this time of day. The rain drives them in after dark.”

  “I hear that there’s a tour of the electricity works.”

  “Volt City. Boring stuff. But at least it’s dry.” He put down the well-burnished glass, took up another one. Pointed his thumb. “Down there. Next to the pier. Tours every half an hour all day. By ferry.”

  “Sounds like a winner,” I said with little enthusiasm.

  “Or stay here and drink. Your choice.”

  “Can I leave my bag here?”

  “Ten credits,” he said. I took the telephone out of the bag before I passed it over. He stowed it behind the bar. “We never close.”

  Cheered on by this hearty interplay I went out into the rain again. Was it stopping? Hard to say with the wind blowing water in all directions.

  Tied up by the pier, bobbing ominously, the small ferry Miss Kilowatt did not actually inspire confidence. At least the rain was letting up, though not the wind.

  “Welcome aboard Miss Kilowatt for your grand electrical tour,” a very bored girl in an electric blue uniform said. She handed me a booklet. “We cast off in ten minutes and thus will begin the tour of your lifetime.” Her nasal and uninflected tone made it sound like the end of a lifetime. I went to the bow and sat down on a wet bench. I was soaked through already and this would make no difference. I leafed through the booklet, then sat on it. I was still wet. A little while later there was a rumble in Miss Kilowatt’s bowels and she moved slowly away from the pier.

  As the rain let up I could make out our destination more clearly. A low island with the waves breaking into white foam on its rocky shore. A long cluster of white buildings attached to a larger and more formidable building. A very tall chimney rose up from this, thin smoke blowing inland from its top. No doubt spreading atomic debris over the town. From the farthest end of the buildings thick black wires emerged and stretched out to a massive tower. Swung long catenary loops across the water to another tower on the mainland. Marched away on more towers, vanishing inland, transporting all those amperes and joules to the industry of Fetorrscoria. Inspiring.

  The passage was rough and blissfully short. I was happy to join the small crowd at the exit. Followed them down the pier towards the building complex. A wide entrance flashed a dazzling array of lights and emitted scratchy music.

  “Welcome.” The canned voice said. “Welcome to your grand electrical tour. Your guide is waiting inside to tell you just how AtomGen is making your world a finer place to live in.”

  We had to go single file through the narrow entrance. Past a uniformed guard with a counter in his hand, clicking it for every visitor. No, not every one. A mother and the little girl with her did not merit a click. Just the male visitors, I noticed idly. I paid more attention when I passed him. He clicked and looked at the readout.

  “Number fifty,” he said aloud, and smiled. “This is your lucky day and you have won a valuable prize worth two hundred credits. Please follow me to that room over there where it is waiting for you.”

  He handed me a golden disk with a lightning bolt inscribed on it. Pointed to the door with the same symbol.

  I did not like being singled out. But did not dare protest. I meekly took the disk and followed him through the door. It locked behind us with an all too solid sound.

  “Last one for the day, Geuka,” he called out to another guard. Who unlocked a barred door. Through the bars I could see into the room beyond, could see some dejected-looking men lolling miserably in chairs.

  “What’s going on?” I protested. “I’m not going in there.”

  As I spoke I felt what could be a gun grind into the small of my back. Geuka unclipped an electric prod from his belt. “In,” he said very firmly. “You and these other gentlemen have volunteered for only an hour’s work on the night shift. For which you will be paid two hundred credits.”

  “Work? What kind of work?” Should I make a grab for the gun?

  One of the incarcerated men was now standing at the gate holding onto the bars, enjoying the show.

  “Simple labor, you’ll see,” the guard behind me said. He had moved aside, out of reach now. With the gun still leveled.

  The man clutching the bars laughed what could only have been called a dirty laugh.

  “Believe that and you’ll believe anything. It’s cleaning up radioactive waste. You’re gonna get a lifetime’s worth of radiation in that hour.”

 
Chapter 19

  “Just shut your mouth over there-or you’re in big trouble,” the guard said, waving the electric prod in his direction.

  The man laughed. “How much bigger trouble is there than getting nuked?”

  He shook the gate angrily but it was solid.

  Distraction.

  I turned my head just a fraction so I could see the guard beside me out of the corner of my eye. There was more shouting now from the other men locked in the room. The gun was steady-but I saw him look at the other guard.

  The edge of my hand sliced down hard on his wrist.

  He yiped in pain and the gun dropped to the floor. He dropped after it as I continued the turn so my rigid hand next caught him in the neck.

  I had turned completely about and was facing the door we had just come through. Seized the handle and tore it open, went through it and pulled it shut behind me. This had taken only a few seconds.

  The entrance hall was almost empty because the tour was leaving. The last of the people on the tour were filing out into the hallway. No one was looking my way. I walked fast, not running, towards the exit from the building. There was safety outside, the dock, the ferry. No, that was not a very good idea. Any moment now armed thugs would be coming out of the room. Heading towards the exit door. There had to be a better way to avoid them. I turned and joined the tour as it left the room.

  If I went outside I was sure to be caught. There would be no way to escape on the ferry, even less running around on the island. This was the only other option. It would take them awhile to discover that I had not fled the building but had continued deeper inside it.

  I walked behind the other visitors. The hall widened into a chamber, the lights dimmed and the wall before us glowed with golden light. The tour guide produced a weary monologue.

  “The first thing you will notice about this fascinating display is just how much the nuclear generator dominates the life of our little electric generating family here, dedicated to bringing you your electricity at the lowest possible price. Clean power and how very efficient this is will be seen…”

  Our guide droned on through her monotonous speech while the tour members gaped at the models and flickering lights. I looked over my shoulder after I had moved along the back of the tour, putting bodies between me and the entrance hall. Someone was running towards the outside door; there were loud shouts. Some heads turned to look as I worked my way farther into the room.

  There-on the far wall-was the exit the tour would be taking soon. I moved slowly in that direction. Turned as though I were looking at the display. And shuffled backwards at the same time. Until I was in the hallway. No one was looking in my direction, and the crowd hid me from sight of the entrance hall. I turned and walked calmly around a bend and out of sight.

  “Think fast, Jim,” I muttered as I walked. The hallway was empty-but how long would it stay that way? Anyone I met would be an employee and they would know that I did not belong here. If I were seen, stopped, found-that would be the end of this little escape.

  No doors. Just backlit panoramas set into the wall visualizing the glories of nuclear power. Mighty machines, stalwart builders, sizzling electrons. I hurried past them. The hall ended in an escalator that was grinding silently upwards into the depths of the building. Should I take it? Hide behind it? A stupid action-I would be easily found. I had to keep moving. I got onto the escalator-then ran back down it as quickly as I could. From above I had seen that there was a door at the very end of the hallway.

  With a discreet sign on it saying EMPLOYEES ONLY.

  The tour group was still in the first hall. No one had seen me yet. I was about to become an employee. A quick twist of the picklock did the trick. I was looking into musty darkness: I hesitated.

  “Now if you will all follow me…”

  I slipped inside and closed the door behind me. Heard the lock click. Let out a deep and shuddering breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  I was safe for moment. The hunted animal gone to ground. And I had been like a fleeing animal up until this moment. Fleeing, not thinking, just escaping.

  “Well done, Jim,” I told myself in a hoarse whisper, a little spirit bolstering being very much in order. But it was time to put the brain into gear now. I tried to visualize what was happening outside.

  No alarms had gone off yet so it looked as though this was going to be a silent chase. After the first shouting someone with intelligence would take charge. They did not want to disturb the visitors who had not been drafted for radioactive duty. Someone in authority had realized that if the ferry were stopped from leaving, I would also be stopped from leaving the island. They would take care of the ferry first. After it had been searched and I wasn’t found, then someone would remember about the guided tour. That would take some time because the only person who had seen me clearly was the guard I had knocked down. He would have to be revived, sent after the tour to identify me. And I wouldn’t be there. The search would widen to the island. And more sinister, would extend through this building. What next?

  Get away from the door for openers, dummy. Anyone who comes through it will spot you at once.

  I was right. And by this time my eyes were getting used to the semidarkness. I looked around. Light spilled in through a series of holes and strangely shaped openings. I blinked at this-then realized I was looking at the rear of the dioramas I had passed in the hallway. This space was used to work on them, change them perhaps, dust them. I walked slowly back the way I had come, but this just ended in a dead-end wall. The other direction had better offer something far better or it was back to the hallway for me. I would be easily found if and when they decided to search in here. The workspace deadended again. But at least there was another door here. I opened it a crack and put my eye to the slit.

  There was a cavernous hall beyond, well lit. With people moving about. It had to be a workshop of some kind; I could even smell paint. There was scaffolding as well. Cables and ladders. And the distant clanging of a bell.

  “What’s up?” a man’s voice said a few feet from my head.

  I stood, frozen, clutching the edge of the door. He was just inside the door. He moved forward inside the room, almost close enough to touch. He was not looking my way.

  “Alarm of some kind,” another voice said. “They want us all out of the building.”

  “Not another one of their idiotic fire alarms? We are never going to get this display finished by Founder’s Day if they keep playing these kind of games.”

  He must have become aware of the partly open door because he grabbed the handle and slammed it shut. Moved off, still complaining.

  And he had not seen me!

  I waited what I thought was a respectable amount of time. Then waited a little bit more. Opened the door again ever so carefully. The workshop beyond was silent and empty. I went in slowly, listening. There was the sound of some voices in the distance, a door closed, then silence. I didn’t know how much time I had before they returned. Before that happened I had to have a plan, an escape, a hiding place. Something.

  The panorama they were building was life-size. A laboratory of some kind, hulking machines with dangling wires. A nude window-dressing dummy was working incongruously at a desk. Others dummies were stacked nearby, some partly clothed. In the rear was a white-coated figure wearing breathing apparatus. Blazoned on its chest was the tripartite red warning signal for radiation. Was there danger?! I jumped back.

  “Don’t be a dummy,” I scolded myself. “Like the rest of these dummies. They wouldn’t have real radiation sources in a display. Everything is a mockup.”

  I went behind the rear of the display and found cabinets, a paint locker, shelves of parts and models. Plenty of places to hide. Plenty of places that would be well searched. I had to move on.

  Or did I. Look. Think. Think like a magician. Always misdirection. People look for secrets, complications. They never notice the obvious.

  And the obvious was staring me in
the face.

  I lifted off the breathing apparatus carefully and stared into the painted eyes of the dummy inside.

  “You have been demoted,” I said.

  I noted its position carefully before I undressed it. Once it was naked I carried it over to the piled up dummies on the floor. There were seven of them there. By careful digging and rearranging they became eight, with the newcomer concealed at the bottom. They were dusty, had been there awhile. Hopefully the additional plastic corpse would not be noted. I pulled on the white clothing and leaned against the bench just as the original had. Put the breathing apparatus on and instantly began to suffocate. Took it off and found that all of the valves were closed. I opened them and tried again. Musty but bearable.

  I took it off and placed it down on the bench before me. Then I wriggled around to find a position where I could stand without moving, in some degree of comfort. When I had done that, I sat down on the nearby chair and waited.

  I had plenty of warning. Closing doors and loud voices. When they came back into the room I was immobile at the bench and looking at them through the dusty eyepieces.

  “Where are we on this plan?” the guard asked as he came into view. The same one that I had knocked down. He had a large and much-folded chart in his hand.

  “Right here,” one of the technicians said. “Right off the central hall.” There were a half-dozen more men with the guard.

  “Is there a door down this way?”

  “Just one to the workspace behind the hall displays.”

  “We’ll search there first.”

  They did. I had been right to get out of there. When they came back they began to methodically search the rest of the area. Opening and banging shut the cabinets and storerooms. When they returned, one by one, they walked behind me. I stood, rigid, my back tingling.