The Stainless Steel Rat Wants You ssr-4

by Harry Harrison

  “If you know—tell us,” I said. “Credit where credit is due.”

  “You are maturing as the years pass, aren’t you, darling!” She blew me a quick kiss, then raised her voice. “Gentlemen. The answer is obvious.”

  “Well, not to me,” Inskipp said.

  “It’s all in the mind, that’s what he said. Which can mean mind control…”

  “The gray men!” I shouted. “The Kekkonshiki brain kinkers!”

  “I still don’t see…”

  “Because you see only a physical battle, Inskipp old warrior,” I said. “What that time traveling twit was hinting at was an end to the war completely.”

  “How?”

  “By getting the aliens to change their minds. By having them learn to love human beings so they can turn their industrial might to war reparations and make this universe a model for all the others. And who are the master mind changers? None but the Kekkonshiki. They told me that their psychcontrol techniques work on all races. Let’s put them to the test.”

  “And how do you think they will do that?” an admiral asked.

  “The details will be worked out later,” I said, meaning I hadn’t the slightest idea at this time. “Order up a battle cruiser and see that there are plenty of space marines aboard. I am off at once to arrange the salvation of the galaxy.”

  “I am not sure about that,” Incuba said. “There is a question of morality in mind manipulation…” Her words died away and she slumped to the floor.

  “Poor thing, she’s fainted,” Angelina said. “All the stress, you know. I’ll take her to her quarters.”

  Fainted indeed! I had seen my wife in action before. As she spirited the unconscious girl from the room I moved fast, taking advantage of the time she had bought me.

  “The battle cruiser! Order it to the spacelook now for I am going to board her.”

  “Correct,” Inskipp said. “It’s on its way.” He was aware of the byplay too and just as eager as I was to get the project launched while the Morality Corps observer was accidentally indisposed.

  We made a fast and silent trip. For security measures I imposed a radio blackout from repeater stations and told the psiman to accept no messages directed at us. So when the frigid world of Kekkonshiki appeared on the screens ahead I still had not been ordered back. And, after giving the subject a good deal of concentration, I knew what had to be done.

  “Break radio blackout and contact the landing party,” I ordered.

  “They’re on now,” the operator said. “But they haven’t landed. Their ship is still in orbit.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Here’s the commander, sir.”

  An officer with a bandaged head appeared on the screen. He saluted when he saw all the gold braid I was wearing.

  “They insist on fighting,” he said. “My orders were to pacify the planet, not blow it up. So when all attempts at communication failed I withdrew. After neutralizing their spacers.”

  “They know they can’t win.”

  “You know that and I know that. Now try telling it to those madmen.”

  It should have been expected. The fatalistic Kekkonshiki would much prefer to die than surrender. In fact surrender was probably a word that they did not know, a concept alien to their Moral Philosophy of survival. Yet we needed their help. There was only one person on the planet—hopefully still alive—who could possibly arrange that.

  “Stay in orbit, Commander, and await instructions. This ship will join you after I have made contact on the planet. You’ll hear from me when it is time to land.”

  Within an hour I had issued all the orders, gathered what equipment I would need, and was floating down in a spacesuit towards the white planet below. The gravchute slowed my drop and the infrared scope let me see clearly through the driving snow. I steered for a familiar building and dropped, not too lightly, onto a roof where I had been before. It was all very cold and very depressing because I had hoped I had seen the last of this particular world.

  I suppose I could have landed on the ground and gone in through the front door, taken a squad of marines too to help me shoot up any opposition. But that was not what I wanted. A quiet contact with Hanasu first, before anyone knew I was back. The fact that it was well after dark had convinced me that retracing my old route might be the best way. I pried open the trapdoor and, after much wriggling and puffing, managed to get myself and the spacesuit through the opening and into the building. First step accomplished. Then I took off the cumbersome garment, unlocked the door for what I hoped was the last time, and walked silently down the corridor.

  “You are the enemy, you must be killed,” a small boy said in a toneless voice as he hurled himself at me. I stepped aside so he stumbled and fell, leaving me the perfect target. The needle from my gun easily penetrated the seat of his trousers and he sighed and relaxed. I tucked him under my arm and went on as quietly as I could.

  By the time I pushed open Hanasu’s office door I was carrying four of them altogether and beginning to stagger. He looked up from behind the desk and, if he were capable of smiling, this is the time when he would have.

  “It all worked as you planned,” he said. “The message was received. You escaped.”

  “I did, and now I’m back. With some small friends who were not happy to see me.”

  “They listen to the radio broadcasts from Kome and they do not know what to believe. They are disturbed.”

  “Well, these ones are quiet enough now. Let me make them comfortable on your floor.”

  “I will use the axion feed. They will remember nothing.”

  “Not this time. They’ll sleep long enough not to bother us. Now tell me—what has happened since I left.”

  “Confusion. It is written nowhere in our Moral Philosophy what to do at this sort of time. Therefore when Kome issued his orders to fight or die he was obeyed. Everyone can understand that. There was no way I could combat him by myself, so I have done nothing. I have waited.”

  “Very wise. But now that I am here there is something very important that you can do.”

  “What is that?”

  “Convince your people here that they must take up alien disguise again and go back and control the aliens.”

  “I do not understand. You wish them to encourage the war again?”

  “No. Quite the opposite. I want them to stop it.”

  “You must explain. This is beyond me.”

  “Let me ask you a question first. Could the synaptic generators be used on the aliens? To convince them that human beings are really very nice after all. We do have damp eyeballs and sweat a lot. Fingers aren’t too different from tentacles when you think about it. Could this be done?”

  “Very easily. You must understand that the aliens come from primitive cultures and are easily led. When we began infiltrating them to organize the invasion we were faced with indifference at first. To overcome this the leaders were treated and taught to hate humans. Then, through propaganda, they convinced the rest of the populations. It took a long time, but that is the way it was done.”

  “Can the indoctrination process be reversed?”

  “I would think so. But how can you convince my people to do a thing like this?”

  “That is the big question I was coming to.” I stood and paced the room, marshaling my thoughts, stepping over the snoring bodies of the boys. “What is to be done must be done through the teachings of Moral Philosophy as you practice it here. I was wrong, angry, when I told you that this culture must be destroyed. It should not be. It is a vital one, an important one that contains elements that should benefit all of mankind. It was just misapplied when it left the surface of this planet. Is there anything inherent in Moral Philosophy, MP, that says you must be galaxy conquerors?”

  “No. We learned to hate those who abandoned us on this world because we must always believe that they will never come back to save us. We must save ourselves. Survival is the beginning and the end. Anything that goes aga
inst that is wrong.”

  “Then Kome and his talk of racial suicide is wrong!”

  For a Kekkonshiki, Hanasu looked almost startled “Of course! His preachings go against the law. All must be told.”

  “They will be. But that is point one. Now think about the laws of MP again. You survive. You are superior to the rest of mankind. You hate the ones who abandoned you long ago. But the people alive today don’t even know about that abandonment, nor are they responsible for it. Therefore it is not necessary to hate them. Better than that, since the Kekkonshiki are superior to all other people, you are morally responsible to help them survive if they are threatened. How does that fit the MP rules?”

  Hanasu was wide-eyed and rigid, his mind in a turmoil as he considered these unusual ideas. Nodding his head.

  “It is just as you say. It is a novel thing to apply Moral Philosophy to a new situation. It has never been done before. There were no new situations. There are now. We have been wrong and I see now how we have been wrong. We simply reacted to other human beings. We were emotional. We violated the basic tenets of Moral Philosophy. When I explain all will understand. We will save the human race.” He turned to me and clasped my hand. “You have saved us from ourselves, my friend. We have broken the tenets by what we have done. Now we will make them right. I will go forth and speak.”

  “Let’s set it up. We must be sure that Kome doesn’t shoot first and debate later. If we keep him quiet do you think that you can convince the troops?”

  “There is no doubt. None will dare disagree with what I say for I will explain the law as it is written, as it is taught, as they have learned since they were small boys like the ones here.”

  As though right on cue some of these same small boys burst the door open. There were a lot of them there, filling the doorway, all heavily armed. Led by one of their teachers who pointed his gun directly at me.

  “Put down your weapon,” he ordered. “I will shoot and kill if you do not.”

  Twenty-One

  Of course my gun was pointing at the pack; my reflexes are still in good shape. I had drawn and crouched automatically as the door had crunched. Now I rose slowly and let the gun drop to my side. I was seriously outgunned, by deadly weapons held by nervous boys.

  “Don’t shoot, you’ve got me cold!” I called out.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Hanasu asked, standing and walking towards the door. “Lower those weapons. This is an order.”

  The boys obeyed instantly—they knew who the headmaster was—but the teacher wavered. “Kome has said…”

  “Kome is not here. Kome is wrong. I order you for the last time to put that weapon down.” The teacher hesitated for an instant too long and Hanasu turned to me. “Shoot him,” he ordered.

  Of course I did, and he thudded to the floor. With a sleep needle of course, though the boys did not have to know that. And I doubted if Hanasu cared. He was not used to his orders being disobeyed. “Hand me that gun,” he ordered the nearest boy. “And call an assembly of the entire school at once.”

  They handed over the guns and instantly left. I dragged in the teacher’s body and laid it next to his pupils. Hanasu closed the door, deep in thought.

  “Here is what we will do,” he finally said. “I will explain the differences to everyone in terms of Moral Philosophy. They have been troubled with internal conflicts over the application and this problem will now be resolved. After they have understood we will march on the spaceport. Kome and his activists are there. I will explain again and they will join us. Then you will call your ship down and we will proceed to the second part of the program.”

  “That all sounds very good. But what if they don’t agree with you?’

  “They will have to. Because it is not me they are agreeing with but the text of Moral Philosophy as it is written. Once they understand it will not be a matter of choice or agreement but of obedience.”

  He sounded very sure of himself so I crossed my fingers behind his back and hoped that he was right.

  “Maybe I should come with you. In case of trouble?”

  “You will wait here until you are summoned.”

  Hanasu exited on that line and I could do nothing other than let him go. The row of unconscious figures depressed me, so I unlimbered my radio and contacted my ships; to put them into the picture. They would stand by, in orbit above the spaceport, and await further orders. I broke the connection when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come with me,” a stern-faced little boy ordered. I obeyed. Hanasu was waiting by the open front door of the school while boys and teachers streamed by him on both sides.

  “We go to the spaceport,” he said. “We will reach it at dawn.”

  “No problems?”

  “Of course not. I could tell that they were relieved to have this conflict over interpretation of the rulings of Moral Philosophy made clear to them. My people are strong, but they get their strength from obedience. Now they are stronger still.”

  Hanasu drove the only car in the procession and I was glad to travel with him. The rest of the staff and the students slogged along on skis. Uncomplainingly, despite the fact they had all been sound asleep less than an hour before. There is a lot to be said for discipline. There is nothing to be said for the comfort of Kekkonshiki groundcars. Though this trip was a little smoother than the first one, since Hanasu drove slower so the skiers could keep up. Dawn was lighting up the first snowstorm of the morning as we reached the spaceport entrance. Two guards emerged from the shack and looked stolidly at the car and following skiers as though this happened every day.

  “Tell Kome I am here to see him,” Hanasu ordered.

  “None are permitted in. Kome has ordered. All enemy are to be killed. That is an enemy in your car. Kill him.”

  Hanasu’s voice was cold as the grave, although it rang with authority.

  “The Fourteenth Rule of Obedience states you will obey the orders of one of the Ten. I have given you an order. There is no rule that there are enemies to be killed. Stand aside.”

  A trace of emotion almost touched the guard’s face, then was gone. He stepped back. “Proceed,” he said. “Kome will be informed.”

  In line now, our juvenile and senile invading force swept across the spaceport towards the administration buildings. We passed antiaircraft implacements, but the men manning them only looked on and made no attempt to stop us. It was gray, chill dawn now, with sudden snow flurries blasting by. Our car stopped in front of the entrance to administration and Hanasu had just climbed, creaking, down when the door opened. I stayed in the car and tried to look invisible. Kome and a dozen followers emerged, all carrying guns.

  It must have been the cold that was chilling my brain because I realized, for the first time, that I was the only one in our party who was armed.

  “Go back to your school, Hanasu. You are not wanted here,” Kome shouted, getting in the first word. Hanasu ignored him, waking forward until he was face to face with the other man. When he spoke he spoke loudly so all could hear.

  “I tell you all to put your guns away for what you are doing is against the rule of Moral Philosophy. By that rule we must lead the weak races. By that rule we must not commit suicide by fighting all the other races who outnumber us millions to one. If we fight them as we are doing now we will all be killed. Is this what the Thousand taught us? You must…”

  “You must get out of here,” Kome called out. “It is you who break the rule. Go or be killed.” He raised his gun and pointed it. I slipped out of the door of the car.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said, my own gun pointing.

  “You bring an alien here!” Kome’s voice was loud, almost angry. “He will be killed, you will be killed…”

  His voice broke off and there was a loud crack as Hanasu stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face.

  “You are proscribed,” Hanasu said, and there was a gasp of indrawn breath from all the watchers. “You have disobeyed
. You are ended.”

  “Ended? Not me, you!” Kome cracked, his voice roared with rage, whipping up his gun.

  I dived to the side, trying for a shot, but Hanasu was in the way. There was the crackling roar of gunfire.

  Yet Hanasu still stood there. Unmoving as Kome’s ragged body fell to the ground. All of his followers had fired at him at the same time. The rule of Kekkonshiki Moral Philosophy had destroyed him. Calm and undisturbed, Hanasu turned to all those present and explained his newly discovered interpretation of the Law. They tried not to show expression, but it was obvious that they were relieved. There was solidity in their lives again, structure and order. Kome’s huddled body was the only evidence that there had ever been a schism and, from the way they stood, they obviously did not see it nor want to look at it. Order had returned.

  “You can come down now,” I ordered into my radio.

  “Negative. Priority override orders.”

  “Negative!” I shouted into the microphone. “What are you talking about. Get those crates down here instantly or I’ll fry your commander and eat him for lunch.”

  “Negative. Order issuing vessel on way ETA three minutes.”

  The connection was broken and I could only stare, popeyed, at the radio. What development was this? More and more men were coming up and listening to Hanasu. The situation was well in hand, a solution possible—and I got more troubles. A slim scoutship dropped down through the snowstorms and I was at the port when it swung open. Fire in my eye and my fingers twitching millimeters from my gunbutt. A familiar and loathsome form stepped out.

  “You!” I cried.

  “Yes, it is I. And just in time to prevent a miscarriage of moral justice.”

  It was Jay Hovah, boss of the Morality Corps. And I had more than a strong suspicion why he was here.

  “You’re not needed here,” I said. “Nor are you dressed for the weather. I suggest you get back inside.”