The Stainless Steel Rat eBook Collection

by Harry Harrison

  ‘Clothes,’ I said, ‘and drink, and not necessarily in that order.’ I tucked a corner of the blanket coyly over me not out of shame, rather that these alert amazons should not be subject to temptation. And besides, my wife was there. She knew very well what I meant by drink and pushed aside the glass of water one of the ladies was trying to force on me and passed over a small flask of potent brew. It burned sweetly down my throat and sent tendrils of fire into my brain.

  ‘I’m afraid my thoughts … my sense of reality is still a little confused,’ I admitted, and from the look on Angelina’s face I knew that she was already aware of it. ‘They did something to me, don’t know what, but it’ll wear off soon I’m sure.’

  ‘I’ll kill them, every one, terribly,’ Angelina said through tight-clenched teeth and there was a murmur of agreement from all the listeners. I closed my eyes for a moment to rest them and when I opened them again the room was empty except for Angelina; a light had been lit and the window was dark. It was like a spliced break in a film with a chunk left out. I respected Kraj’s mental diddling techniques and roundly loathed him for it.

  ‘Hungry,’ I told Angelina and she came over and sat by me and held my hand.

  ‘You’ve been asleep – and talking. Some awfully strange things.’

  ‘I feel better for it. When we get back to base I’ll have the medics vacuum out all the dark corners. But there are more important things for the present. We have to organize the resistance here before the Cliaand get a tight grip on everything. And …’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you mean no?’

  I had the feeling that I had missed some important part of the conversation. Was this more results of the brain fiddling – or just female conversation?

  ‘I mean no, we won’t do that. While you were sleeping I sent a long report to Inskipp, everything you told me about the Cliaand plans and how they work their invasions and how they are out to get the Corps, everything.’

  ‘Did you at least sign my name?’ I asked, petulantly.

  She patted my hand. ‘Of course, darling. It was your work and I wouldn’t think of trying to get credit for it.’

  I was filled with instant regret for speaking like that, and apologized, then she apologized because my ill temper probably had to do with the brain business, and we had a drink and that was settled and I tried to get back to the business at hand.

  ‘So you sent the report. And then—?’

  ‘Then it went to a relay ship on the other side of this sun and was sent out as a psigram to Inskipp. His answer came in and he said “message received, congratulations, return at once”. So you see you will have to go back.’

  I snorted through my nose, then sipped my drink.

  ‘Do you think I’ll go back?’

  ‘You’re not well, you need medical attention, you’ve done what you came to do—’

  ‘That’s not what I asked. Do you think I’ll go back now?’

  Angelina tried to look fierce, which she cannot do unless she really means it – then shrugged her shoulders in a very resigned way.

  ‘Of course not. If you did you would not be the man I married. So now we wipe out these fiends and save Burada and stop these invasions.’

  ‘Not quite all at once, but that is sort of what I had in mind. A resistance movement will have to be organized, with our advice and material help Taze should be able to handle that, but there is one thing that takes priority over even that. We must capture Kraj or one of his gray men.’

  ‘What a wonderful idea! If they think they know about torture they will soon learn a thing or two. I remember …’

  ‘Angelina! That is not what I had in mind. For a moment there a lot of the old reconstructed you was shining through.’

  ‘Nonsense. I admit I could use one or two techniques I learned in those days, but my motives are the purest. Lioness defending her mate and that sort of thing. Perfectly justified.’

  ‘Yes, that might be so, but it is not quite what I was talking about. I want one of those gray men in a laboratory and I want exhaustive tests run on him. When you were beating up on that bunch earlier today did you notice anything strange about them?’

  ‘Nothing particular. I was otherwise occupied, you might say. Just the fact that they weren’t wearing enough clothing, because their skins felt so chill.’

  ‘Exactly so. And they never laugh or show emotion, they don’t gossip or talk unless there is something important to say, and have a number of other little traits that draw the attention.’

  ‘Just what are you trying to say, darling, that they are zombies or robots or something? I thought that sort of thing appeared only on space operas for the kiddies.’

  ‘Laugh now, While there is still time. Not robots or such, these types are alive enough. I just don’t think that they are human, that’s all. There are aliens among us.’

  ‘Perhaps you better have some more sleep. I’ll turn down the light.’

  ‘Don’t humor me, damn it! I have been thinking about this ever since I first met Kraj, so it is no figment of a recently tortured mind. There is all sort of evidence. The Cliaand soldiers are deathly afraid of Kraj and his thugs and won’t even talk about them. The gray men are cut off from normal Cliaandian life and different in every way from them. Almost as though they were not the same people. I can visualize these gray men doing a survey of the human planets and finding Cliaand just ripe for their picking. A stratified, militarized way of life with everyone in uniform. All they had to do was take over at the top and they would be in control. And this they seem to have done. They appear in none of the tables or charts so dear to the military mind – yet they seem to be running things most of the time.’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘There. You’re not convinced but you are beginning to doubt. Then you’ll help me get a specimen gray man?’

  ‘Help?’ She clapped her hands with sheer girlish enthusiasm. ‘I am simply looking forward to it. Of course he might get a little damaged while I’m bringing him in, but as long as he still works that is really all that matters, isn’t it?’

  Before I could answer Taze ran in and threw an armload of clothing onto the bed.

  ‘Get dressed, quickly,’ she ordered. ‘The boots are the biggest we could find and I hope they fit.’

  ‘Is there any reason for all this rush?’ I asked.

  ‘There certainly is. There are troops and heavy weapons on all sides. This building is completely surrounded by the enemy.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE BOOT WAS TIGHT and delicately pointed, but I squeezed my foot in as far as I could. ‘Were we followed here?’ I asked Taze.

  ‘No – of course not. I am no beginner at this business. Nor is the stolen car here any longer.’

  I cudgeled my sluggish brain into thought while I struggled with the second boot. The telephone rang and I froze – as did the two women – staring at it like a poison snake. It rang just once more, then the tiny inset screen lit up and Kraj stared out of it, as emotionless as ever.

  ‘You know that you are surrounded,’ he said. ‘Resistance is useless, diGriz. Surrender quietly and none of your friends will be hurt …’

  My boot hit the screen and Kraj’s image flared and died; I ripped the entire instrument out by the roots and hurled it against the wall. A fine cold sweat dotted my skin. I knew that most phones can be turned on from central with the right equipment, but this was a bad time to see the theory proven.

  ‘Don’t panic!’ I shouted, mostly to myself I imagine, because Angelina and Taze were perfectly calm. I hopped about the room getting on the other boot and tried to jar some clear thought into my tangled brain. The last hop ended me up sitting on the cot, panting, counting off on my fingers.

  ‘Let us forget that call for a moment and figure out what is happening. One, we were not followed when we came here. Two, our transportation is gone so that we could not be traced. Three, Kraj knew that I was here, which means they may have planted a d
irectional radio transmitter in me. In which case the services of a surgeon and a good x-ray machine will be needed as soon as we get out of here.’

  ‘You are forgetting a simpler explanation,’ Angelina said.

  ‘Don’t keep it a secret. If you can think better than I can – which is no compliment right now – let’s have it.’

  ‘The torture box. You said it was radio controlled.’

  ‘Of course. A directional apparatus is probably an integral part of the mechanism. Is the thing still here, Taze?’

  ‘Yes, below. We thought there might be a use for it.’

  ‘There is now. When we leave the box stays here. Maybe this will keep their attention on the building – and once away they won’t find me this easily again. Now brief me, Taze, what kind of a building is this – and how do we get out of it?’

  ‘It is a factory owned by one of our members. And there is no possible way out, we are doomed to fight and die, but when we do we will sell our lives well and take many of those swine-pig-dogs with us …’

  ‘That’s fine, yes indeed. But we’ll sell our lives dearly only if we have to. DiGriz can find escape routes where others only despair. Is your factory owner here? Good, send her up as quickly as possible.’

  Taze left on a run and I turned to my wife.

  ‘I assume you brought the usual equipment with you? The sort of thing we had on our honeymoon.’

  ‘Bombs, grenades, explosives, gas charges, of course.’

  ‘Good girl. With you for a wife I have a growing sense of security.’

  Taze ran back in followed by another uniformed amazon. A little older perhaps, with a very attractive touch of gray to her hair, yet full-bosomed and round-limbed in a maturely fascinating way … I caught the cold look frosting in Angelina’s eyes and quickly put my thoughts on more pressing matters.

  ‘I am James diGriz, interstellar spy and agent.’

  ‘Fayda Firtina of the Guard,’ she barked and snapped a salute.

  ‘Yes, very good, Fayda, glad to meet you. At ease. I understand that you own this building.’

  ‘That is correct. Firtina Amalgamated (construction) Robutlers, Limited. The finest product on the market.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Robutlers.’

  ‘You wouldn’t think me dense if I asked what a Robutler is?’

  ‘A luxury product that is a necessity for the proper home. A robot that is programmed, trained, articulated and specially designed for but a single function. A butler, a servant, a willing aid around the house that makes the house a home, relieving the lady of the establishment of the chores and cares and stresses of modern living …’

  There was more like this, obviously quotes from a sales brochure, but I did not hear it. A plan was forming in my mind, taking shape – until the sound of firing broke through my train of thought.

  ‘They have made a probing attack,’ Taze said, a com-radio to her ear. ‘But were repulsed with losses.’

  ‘Keep holding them. They shouldn’t try the heavy stuff for a while since they hope to get me alive.’ I waved over the factory owner who seemed ready to go on with her sales talk. ‘Fayda, will you give me a quick sketch of the ground plan of the building and the immediate area around it?’

  She drew quickly and accurately, military training no doubt, indicating doors and windows and the surrounding streets.

  ‘What do your robutlers look like?’ I asked.

  ‘Roughly humanoid in form and size, the optimum shape for a home environment. In addition—’

  ‘That’s fine. How many do you have ready to go, field tested or whatever you call it, with their little power packs charged?’

  She frowned in thought. ‘I’ll have to check with shipping, but at a rough guess I would say between 150 and 200.’

  ‘That will be just perfect for our needs. Would you be terribly put out – your insurance might cover it – if they were destroyed in the cause of Burada freedom?’

  ‘Every Firtina robutler would willingly die, happily, if it had any emotions, for the cause. Though of course they are incapable of bearing arms or of violent acts of any kind.’

  ‘They don’t have to. We can take care of that. Our robutler brigade will be the diversion that gets us out of here. Now come close, girls, and I’ll tell you the plan.’

  The old diGriz brain was really turning over at last. The firing in the background only stimulated me to grander efforts, while I was buoyed up on a wave of cheerful enthusiasm. Within minutes the preparations were being made, and within a half an hour the robots were ready to attack.

  ‘You know your orders?’ I asked the dimly lit shipping bay full of robots.

  ‘That we do sir, yes sir, thank you sir,’ they all answered in the best of cultured accents.

  ‘Then prepare to depart. What you do now is a far, far better thing than you would have ever done in an electronic lifetime of domestic service. When I say leave you will leave, each to its appointed task.’

  ‘Very kind sir, thank you sir.’

  There were over a hundred here in the shipping bay of the factory, our main diversionary attack. They stood in neat rows, humming and eager to go. The front ranks were dressed in the excess garments we had been able to assemble; some with uniform hats, others with jackets, still fewer wearing slacks. Most of the clothing had been donated piecemeal by the female shock troops, which fact was not doing me much good in my new marital status. There was entirely too much tanned flesh around for a man to completely ignore. It was almost a pleasure to be with the robots for a change. Their forms were sleek but hard, their dress inconsistent and revealing nothing of interest. And each of them clutched a length of pipe or plastic or some other object resembling a weapon. In the confusion that was soon to come my hope was that they would be mistaken for human attackers. I looked at my watch and raised the com-radio to my mouth.

  ‘Stand by, all units. Fifteen seconds to zero. Bombers stand ready. Keep away from the windows until the last second. Ready, keep low … trigger your bombs … THROW.’

  There was a series of dull explosions from the street outside that would be echoed on all sides of the building as the girls heaved the bombs from the upper stories. Smoke bombs for the most part, though there were some irritants and sleep gas mixed in with them. I gave the bombs five seconds to maximum density, then hit the garage door switches. The doors rumbled up to reveal little other than twisting coils of smoke that instantly began to pour into the garage.

  ‘Go, my loyal troops, go!’ I ordered and every left foot shot forward as one, and the ranks of my robot brigade surged forward.

  ‘Thanking you, sir!’ mellifluously sounded in perfect tones from those metallic throats, and I retreated as they ran by.

  There was firing now, from the windows above, echoed instantly by the troops outside. According to plan. I looked at my watch as I ran. Fifteen seconds from zero, time for the second wave.

  ‘All other robutler units – now!’ I ordered into the com-radio.

  At that moment, from the other doors and exits of the factory, into the shroud of smoke and gas, the remaining robots should be going into action. I had not taken the time to try and rig an eavesdropping circuit on the enemy’s command net, but I could just imagine what was happening now. What I hoped was happening now.

  The building was surrounded, all their troops alert, our stronghold visible in all details in the warm afternoon sunlight. Then the sudden change, smoke and chemical irritants shrouding the building on all sides. A breakout obviously – and there it was! Dim figures in the smoke, firing, get them, shoot to kill. Zoing, zoing! Take that, you rotten Burada guerrilla fink! What fighters these Burada are – men of steel! – shoot them and they don’t fall. Panic in the smoke. The word that there are other breakouts. Which was the real one, which a cover? How to mass the troops? Where should the reserves be sent?

  I figured that it would take about one minute for the first confusion to have reached its peak. After this the smoke
would begin to thin and the dead bodies would be discovered to be robots and the word would get out. We wanted to get out before this word did. Once the bombs had been thrown Taze and her troops would be hurrying to get into position – and one minute was not very much time to reach the back of the factory from the upper floors. Yet most of them were there before me with Taze checking them off as they ran past.

  ‘That’s the lot,’ she said, making a final tick on her list.

  ‘Now! Angelina, stand ready with the grenades.’

  The small exit was unlocked and dragged open and Angelina hurled her smoke grenades out to intensify the gloom before us. There was no more talking, and in the sudden silence the shooting and shouting could clearly be heard. I was sure that I could detect an occasional Thank you sir among the voices. Fayda led the way and we followed in line, hands on the shoulders of the preceding marchers. I was in the middle of the line and Angelina just before me, so I held on to her. The placement was accidental, I am sure, since she wouldn’t have cared if I clutched one of the half-naked Burada cuties.

  It was a little disconcerting moving helplessly like this through the darkness, particularly when the occasional missile whined past. By accident, I hoped. This street was narrow and blocked at both ends by Cliaand troops. If they knew what was happening they could sweep the street with a deadly crossfire. But hopefully they were involved with the robutlers for the moment. All we had to do was quietly cross the 20 meters or so of open road, to the apartment dwelling on the other side. If we reached this unnoticed we had a good chance of going through it to the mixed business and residential plaza on the other side. From here we would break up and scatter through the warren of streets and walkways and tunnels, hopefully merging into the civilian population and disappearing before our absence was noticed. Hopefully.