The Stainless Steel Rat Wants You

by Harry Harrison

  My fellow monsters were not really happy with work, but the sordid little secretary managed to drive them to it eventually. I memorized all the essentials of the various war plans and, being a newcomer, offered no suggestions. Though when I was asked how many combat troops we Geshtunken could field I gave in flated figures that got them all happy again. It went on like this for far too long and I wasn't the only one who cheered when the secretary announced that the meeting was adjourned. Gar-Baj writhed up and laid what I can only assume was a friendly tentacle across my tail.

  "Why not come to my place first, cutey? We can crack a crock of rotted slung juice and have a nibble or two of pyekk. A good idea?"

  "Wonderful, Gar-baby, but Sleepery is sleepy and must get the old beauty rest. After that we must get together. Don't call me--I'll call you."

  I swept out before he could answer, the robot rushing after with the end of my train. Down the rusty corridors to the door to my own place, hurrying through it happily to escape the passionate embraces of my loathy Lothario.

  But the door slammed shut before I could touch it and a blaster shot burned the floor next to me. I froze as a gravelly voice ground in my ear.

  "Move and the next one is right through your rotten head."

  EIGHT

  "I'm unarmed!" I shouted in a voice just as hoarse as that of my unseen attacker. "I'm reaching for the sky--don't shoot!" Was that voice somehow familiar? Dare I risk a look? I was trying to make my mind up when Bolivar made it up for me. He popped open the robot and stuck his head out.

  "Hi, James," he called cheerily. "What's wrong with your throat? And don't shoot that ugly alien because your very own dad is inside."

  I risked a look now to see James lurking behind a piece of furniture, jaw and blaster hanging limply with astonishment. Angelina, tastefully garbed in a fur bikini, stepped in from the other room holstering her own gun.

  "Crawl out of that thing at once," she ordered, and I struggled free of its plastic embrace and into her decidedly superior one. "Yum," she yummed after a long and passionate kiss was terminated only by lack of oxygen. "It has been light years since I've seen you."

  "Likewise. I see you got my message."

  "When that creature mentioned that name on the news broadcast I knew you were involved somehow. I had no way of knowing you were inside, which was why we came with the guns."

  "Well, you are here now and that is what counts, and I love your outfit," I looked at James's fur shorts, "and James's as well. I see you go to the same tailor."

  "They took all our clothes away," James said, in the same rough voice. I looked at him more closely.

  "Does that scar on your throat have anything to do with the way you talk?" I asked.

  "You bet. I got it when we escaped. But the alien that gave it to me, that's where we got the fur we're wearing.

  "That's my boy. Bolivar, crack a bottle of champagne out of our survival kit, if you please. We shall celebrate this reunion while your mother explains just what has happened since we saw her last."

  "Quite simple," she said, wrinkling her nose delightfully at the bubbles. "We were engulfed by one of their battleships--I'm sure you saw that happen."

  "One of the worst moments of my life!" I moaned.

  "Poor darling. As you can imagine we felt about the same way. We fired all the guns but the chamber is lined with collapsium and it did no good. Then we held our fire to get the aliens when they came to get us, but that was no good either. The ceiling of the chamber came down and crushed the ship and we had to get out. That was when they disarmed us. They thought. I remembered that little business you did on Burada with the poisoned fingernails and we did the same here. Even our toenails, so when they took our boots away it helped us. So we fought until our guns were empty, were grabbed, taken to a prison or a torture chamber--we didn't stay long enough to find out--then we polished off our captors and got away."

  "Wonderful! But that was endless days ago. How have you managed since?"

  "Very well, thank you, with the aid of Cill Airne here."

  She waved her hand as she said this and five men jumped in from the other room and waved their weapons at me. It was disconcerting yet I stood firm seeing that Angelina was unmoved by their display. They had pallid skins and long black hair. Their clothing, if it could be called that, was made of bits and pieces of alien skin held together by scraps of wire. Their axes and swords looked crude-but serviceable and sharp.

  "Estas granda plezuro renkonti vin," I said, but they were unmoved. "If they don't speak Esperanto what do they talk?" I asked Angelina.

  "Their own language of which I have learned a few words. Do gheobhair gan dearmad taisce gach seoid," she added. They nodded in agreement at this, clattered their weapons and emitted shrill war cries.

  "You made quite a hit with them," I said.

  "I told them that you were my husband, the leader of our tribe, and you had come here to destroy the enemy and lead them to victory."

  "True, true," I said, clasping my hands and shaking them over my bead while they cheered again. "Bolivar, break out the cheap booze for our allies while your mom tells me just what the hell is going on here."

  Angelina sipped at her champagne and frowned delicately. "I'm not sure of all the details," she said. "The language barrier and all that. But the Cill Airne appear to be the original inhabitants of this planet, or rather settlers. They're human enough, undoubtedly a colony cut off during the Breakdown. How or why they came this far from the other settled worlds we may never know. Anyway, they had a good thing going here until the aliens arrived. It was hatred at first sight. The aliens invaded and they fought back, and are apparently still fighting back. The aliens did everything they could do to wipe them out, destroying the surface of this planet and covering it, bit by bit, with metal. It didn't work. The humans penetrated the alien buildings and have lived ever since hidden in the walls and foundations."

  "Stainless steel rats!" I cried. "My sympathy goes out to them."

  "I thought it might. So after James and I escaped and were running down a corridor, not really sure where we were going, this little door opened in the floor and they popped out and waved us inside. That's when the last alien guard jumped us and James dispatched him. The Cill Airne appreciated this and skinned him for us. Perhaps we couldn't talk their language, but mayhem speaks louder than words. And that's really about all that happened to us. We have been lurking around in wainscottings and putting together a plan to capture one of their spacers. And to free the admirals."

  "You know where they are?"

  "Of course. And not too far away from here."

  "Then we need a plan. And I need a good night's rest. Why don't we sleep on it and do battle in the mom?"

  "Because there is no time like the present and besides, I know what you have on your mind. Into battle!"

  I sighed. "Agreed. What do we do next?"

  That was decided when the door burst open and my paramour Gar-Baj came charging in. He must have had love on his mind, if the pink nighty he was wearing meant anything, so he was a little off his guard.

  "Jeem, my sweet--why do you stand there unmoving with your neck open? Awwrrk!"

  He added this last when the first sword got him in the hams. There was a brief battle, which he lost quite quickly, though not quickly enough. He was not completely in the room when the fight started and when his tail was cut off, the last bit, equipped undoubtedly with a rudimentary brain of its own, went slithering back down the corridor and out of sight.

  "We had better make tracks," I said.

  "To the escape tunnel," Angelina cried.

  "Is it big enough for my alien disguise?" I asked.

  "No."

  "Then hold all activity for a few moments while I think," I said, then thought. Quickly. "I have it. Angelina--do you know your way around this monsters' maze?"

  "I do indeed."

  "Wonderful. Bolivar, if s your chance to walk. Out of the robot and let your mother get
in. Brief her on the controls and then go with the others. We'll meet you at whatever place it is you have been staying."

  "How considerate," Angelina beamed. "My feet were getting tired. James, show your brother the way and we'll join you later. Better take along some chops from this creature you have just butchered since we have a few more coming to dinner."

  "Meaning?" I asked.

  "The admirals. We can free them with all this weaponry you have imported and I will lead them to safety in the subterranean ways."

  There was instant agreement on the plan. In the diGriz family we are used to making up our minds rather quickly, while the Cill Airne had learned to do the same in their constant war against the enemy. Some moldering floor coverings were thrown back to reveal a trapdoor that was levered up. I was beginning to think that the aliens were not very bright if they let this sort of thing happen under their very noses, or smelling tentacles or whatever. Bolivar and James dropped into the opening followed by our allies who exited with many shouts of Scadan, Scadan!

  "It's really quite cozy in here," Angelina said, slipping into place in the robot. "Is there a closed-circuit radio for communication?"

  "There is. Circuit thirteen there, a switch near your right hand."

  "I've found it," she said, then her voice spoke into my ear. "You had better lead the way and I'll give you instructions as we go."

  "Your slightest wish sends me forth."

  I stomped out into the corridor with the robot scuttling after. The severed section of tail had vanished. I kicked and buckled the metal door until it was jammed into its frame to confuse the pursuit as much as possible, then led the way down the metal corridor.

  It was a long, and frankly boring, trip through the metallic city. The aliens did not appear to be good planners and the constructions themselves seemed to have just been added on with little reference to what had come before. One minute we would be walking down a rusty, riveted corridor with a sagging ceiling--and the next would be crossing a mesh-metal field under the open sky. Sometimes the walkways were used as watercourses as well and I would thrash along at great speed propelled by my wildly waving tail. The robot was too heavy for this and could only roll along the bottom. We passed through warehouses, factories--have you ever seen a thousand things like decaying alligators all working drill presses at once?--dormitories, and other locales that defy description. And everywhere were the loathies, chattering away in Esperanto and giving me a big wave as I passed. Very nice. I waved back and muttered curses inside the head.

  "I'm getting a little tired of this," I confided to Angelina on our closed circuit.

  "Courage, my brave, we are almost there. Just a few kilometers more."

  A barred gate did eventually appear ahead, guarded by spear-bearing tooth-rattling creatures who began a great noise when I appeared. They banged their spears on the floor and shouted and chomped so strongly that bits of splintered teeth flew in all directions.

  "Jeem, Jeem!" they cried. And "Geshtunken forever! Welcome to our noble cause!" They were obviously all fans of the evening news broadcast and had caught my shtick. I raised my claws and waited until the tumult died.

  "Thank you, thank you," I cried. "It is my great pleasure to serve beside nauseating creatures like yourselves, spawn of some loathsome world far out among the decaying stars." They were prone to flattery and cried aloud for more. "During my brief time here I have seen things that creep, crawl, wriggle and flop, but I must say that you are the creepiest, crawlingest, wriggliest and biggest flop I have met yet." Time out for hoarse shouts of repulsive joy, then I got down to business. "We on Geshtunken have seen only one shipload of pallid-crunchies which we instantly butchered by reflex. I understand you have a whole satellite load of them here. Is that true?"

  "It is indeed, Jeem the Sleepery," one of them spattered. I saw now that it had gold comets screwed into the sides of its head, undoubtedly denoting high rank of some kind. I addressed my questions in its direction.

  "That is good news indeed. Are they in here?"

  "Indeed they are."

  "You don't have an old damaged one you don't need anymore for me to disembowel or eat or something?"

  "Would that I could to please one as cute as yourself, but, alas, no. All of them are needed for information purposes. And after that the roster is already full, highest rank first, with volunteer disembowelers."

  "Well, too bad. Is there any chance I can get a peep at them? Know your enemy and all that."

  "Just from here. No one is allowed closer without a pass. Just slip an eyeball or two through the bars and you'll see them over there."

  One of my fake eyeballs on stalks did have a TV pickup in it and I slithered it through and turned up the magnification. Sure enough, there they were. And a scruffy lot too. They shuffled in little circles or lay on the deck, gray-bearded and gaunt, the rags of their uniforms hanging from them. They may have been admirals but I was still sorry for them. Even admirals were human once. They would be freed!

  "Thanks indeed," I said snaking back my eyeballs. "Most kind and I'll remember you in my report to the War Council."

  I waved as we retreated and they all waved back and with all those flying tentacles it looked like an explosion in the octopus works.

  "I am depressed," I confided to my robot-wife as we rounded the next bend. "No way to get into them that way."

  "Be of good cheer," she radioed. "And let's try the next stairwell. If there is a level below this one then we can penetrate from beneath."

  "My genius," I said, and clattered my claws lovingly on her metallic shoulder. "That is just what we shall do. And I believe that dead ahead is just what we are looking for. But how will we know when we are under the right spot?"

  "We will know because I planted a sonic transponder while you were making your political speech to those slugs."

  "Of course! You had this in mind all the time. If it were anyone else I would be green with jealousy. But I writhe with pleasure at the ingenuity of my little wife."

  "Well, if you do, try not to phrase the praise in such male chauvinist pig terms. Women are as good as men; usually better."

  "I stand chastised, robot mine. Lead the way and I shall follow."

  We clattered and bumped down a slime-covered stairway into total darkness. Unused--even better. Angelina switched on some spotlights and we saw a massive metal door ahead that sealed off the foot of the stairs.

  "Shall I bum it down?" she asked, poking her head out of the robot for a bit of air.

  "No. I'm suspicious. Try out your detectors and see if there is any electronic life beneath the surface."

  "Plenty," she said, sweeping it carefully. "A dozen alarm circuits at least. Shall I neutralize them?"

  "Not worth the effort. Scan that wall there. If it's clear we'll go in around the door."

  We did. These aliens really were simpleminded. The burned-open wall led to a storeroom and the wall beyond this opened into the chamber the bugged door was supposed to guard. Easy enough to do for even an amateur cracksman and my opinion of the enemy IQ dropped a few more points.

  "So this is why they didn't want anyone cracking in here!" Angelina said, flashing her spotlight around.

  "The town treasure," I yummed. "We must come back and dip into it when we get a chance."

  Mountains of money stretched away in all directions, loot of a hundred worlds. Gold and platinum bars, cut diamonds, coins and notes of a hundred different kinds, money enough to build a bank out of, much less open one. My larcenous instincts were overwhelmed and I kicked open great bags of bullion with my claws and wallowed in the wampum.

  "I know that relaxed you," Angelina said indulgently. "But should we not get on with our rescue operation?"

  "Of course. Lead on. I am indeed refreshed."

  She beeped her subsonic beeper and followed the pointing arrow. It led us through the treasure hoard and, after burning down a few more doors and walls, we reached the indicated spot.

  "We're
right under a transponder," Angelina said.

  "Good." I took a careful sight. "Then the barred gate will be here, and the prisoners just about here." I paced off the distance carefully. "There were some chairs and debris right here, so if we approach from this spot we should be concealed when we come up. Is your drill ready?"

  "Whirring and humming."

  "Then that's the spot. Go."

  The drill arm extended and began grinding into the rusty ceiling. When the drill note changed Angelina switched off all the lights and drilled even slower in the darkness. This time when she dropped the drill a ray of light shone down through the hole. We waited silently-but there was no alarm.

  "Let me get one of my eyes through the hole," I said.

  By balancing on tiptail and tiptoe I got my body up high enough to extend an eye stalk up through the opening. I gave it a 360-degree scan, then withdrew it.

  "Really great. Junk all around, none of the admirals looking in our direction and the guards are out of sight. Give me the molecular unbinder and stand back."

  I climbed out of the alien outfit and up onto its shoulders where I could easily reach the ceiling. The molecular unbinder is a neat little tool that reduces the binding energy between molecules so that they turn to monatomic powder and slough away. I ran it in a big circle, trying not to sneeze as the fine dust rained down, then grabbed the metal disc as I closed the circle. After handing this down to Angelina I put a wary head up through the opening and looked around. All was well. An admiral with an iron jaw and a glass eye was sitting nearby, the picture of dejection. I decided on a little morale raising.

  "Psst, Admiral," I hissed, and he turned my way. His good eye widened and his jutting jaw sank in an impressive manner as he spotted my disembodied head. "Don't say a word out loud--but I am here to rescue you all. Understand? Just nod your head."

  So much for trusting admirals. Not only didn't he nod his head, but he jumped to his feet and shouted at the top of his voice.