The Stainless Steel Rat is Born

by Harry Harrison

  When I came around the last bend in the road and turned onto the causeway I had full sound and steam effects going again. I trundled slowly down in clear sight of the guards. They had the partially repaired drawbridge raised long before I reached it, and peered out suspiciously at me as I stopped before the gap.

  "Don't shoot! Me friend!" I called out. "Member of your army and a close associate of the Capo Dimonte. Send for him at once for I know he wants to see his new steam cart." He did indeed. As soon as the drawbridge was lowered he strode across it and looked up at me.

  "Where did you get this?" he asked.

  "Stole it. Climb aboard and let me show you some interesting things."

  "Where is the sleeping gas?" he asked as he climbed the rungs.

  "I didn't bother with it. With this cart I have developed an even better and more foolproof plan. This is no ordinary steam cart, as I hope you have noticed. It is a new and improved model with some interesting additions that will capture your attention. . . ."

  "You idiot! What are you talking about?" He slipped his sword up and down in its scabbard; such a quick temper.

  "I will demonstrate, your caponess, since one action speaks louder than a thousand words. I also suggest that you sit there and strap that belt about you as I have done. This demonstration, I guarantee, will impress you." If not impressed already, he was at least curious. He strapped in and I backed the length of the causeway to the shore. Going slowly with all attendant wheezing and clanking. I stopped the car and turned to him.

  "What about the speed of this thing? What you are used to?"

  "Speed? You mean how fast it moves? This is an excellent yoke and goes with greater alacrity than my own."

  "You have seen nothing yet, capo. First-notice this." I turned off the sound and steam and he nodded with understanding.

  "You have banked its fires and it rests and does not move."

  '"Quite the opposite. I have simply silenced it so no one can hear its approach. It is raring to go-and go it will. After you answer one question. If this cart belonged to an enemy and it appeared here-would your soldiers have time to raise the drawbridge before it reached them?"

  He snorted with derision. "What sort of fool do you take me for with questions like that? Before a cart could crawl its way there the drawbridge could be raised and lowered more than once."

  "Really? Then hold on and see what this baby can do." I floored the accelerator and the thing shot forward in almost perfect silence. There was the hum of the motor, the rustle of the tires on the smooth stone. Faster and faster towards the gate, which expanded before us with frightening speed. The guards who were standing there dived aside just in time as we hit the rough boards of the repaired wooden drawbridge with a crash, bounced, and rocked through the gate.

  And shuddered to a halt inside the keep. The capo sat there with round eyes, gasping, then struggled to get his sword free.

  "Assassin! Your attempt to kill me has failed. . . ."

  "Capo, listen, it was a demonstration. Of how I am going to get you and your soldiers through the gate of Capo Doccia's keep. Right through the open gate into the courtyard where you can kill, loot, murder, torture, maim, destroy..."

  This got his attention. The sword slid back into its scabbard and his eyes unfocused as they looked at the wonders I had summoned for him.

  "Right," he said, blinking rapidly and coming back to the present. "You have an interesting idea here, soldier, and I want to hear more about it. Over a flagon of wine- for that ride was something I have never experienced before."

  "I obey. But let me first get this cart hidden and out of sight so it cannot be observed. The attack will only succeed if there is complete surprise. "

  "In that you are correct. Put it in the barn and I will post guards over it."

  The wine he gave me was a good cut above the acid the troops were issued and I sipped it with pleasure. But not too much for I was going to need a clear head if the game were to proceed as planned. I had to find reasons that would make sense to him; to convince him to get cracking with his war plans at once. Because if we didn't move quickly Prof. Lustig would be swarming over us with his gas bombs. I am sure he was most unhappy about my pinching his buggy. And there were not that many keeps in the area where it could be hidden. It was time for action. I slid out a rook along a mental rank and spoke.

  "The keep of the foul Capo Doccia is no more than a five-hour walk from here-is that correct?"

  "Five hours, four-hour forced march."

  "Good. Then consider this. He attacked you while you were away with the greater part of your army. His troops did great injury to the drawbridge and the fabric of the keep itself. Before you venture out to launch an attack you must have the drawbridge repaired, hire more soldiers perhaps. So when you begin your next campaign no advantage can betaken of your absence. Is that correct?"

  He slurped his wine and glared at me over the rim. "Yes, damn and blast your head, I suppose it is. Prudence, my officers always consul prudence when I want to behead that creature, rip out his entrails, flay him alive . . ."

  "And you shall, yes indeed, fine things lurk in your future. And unlike your other advisers I do not consul caution. I think that fiend in human guise should be attacked-and at once!"

  This appealed to him all right and I could see that I had his undivided attention as I explained my plan.

  "Leave the keep here just as it is-and take all your men. If everything goes as planned you will have troops back here long before anyone knows we have gone. We march at midnight, silent as vengeful spirits, to be in positions of concealment at dawn, as close to Capo Doccia's. keep as is possible. I know just the spot. When the drawbridge is opened at dawn I shall use your new machine to see that it stays open. Your troops attack, take the keep by surprise-and the day is won. As soon as you have captured the keep you can send a strong force back here."

  "It could happen that way. But how do you plan to stop them closing the drawbridge?"

  As I told him the wicked grin spread across his face and he whooped with joy.

  "Do it!" he shouted, "and I shall make you rich for life. With Doccia's groats of course, after I loot his treasury."

  "You are kindness itself to your humble servant. May I then suggest that all in the keep be persuaded to rest, for it will be a long night?"

  "Yes, that will be done. The orders will be issued." After that I slipped away. Other than my natural concern for the tired bodies of my comrades I had other reasons for wishing all of them in their beds. I had a few important tasks to perform before I could get any rest myself.

  "Tools," I told Dreng when I had rousted him out. "Files, hammers, anything like that. Where would I find them here?"

  He shoved a finger deep into his matted hair and scratched hard in thought. I resisted the urge to reach out and shake him and waited instead until the slow processes had crawled to a finish. Perhaps the fingernail rasping on skull helped his sluggish synapses to function. It would be best not to interfere with an established practice. Eventually he spoke.

  "I don't have any tools."

  "I know, dear boy." I could hear my teeth grate together and forced myself to keep control. "You don't have tools, but someone here must. Who would that be?"

  "Blacksmith," he said proudly. "The blacksmith always has tools."

  "Good lad. Now, would you kindly lead the way to this blacksmith?"

  The individual in question was sooty and hairy and in a foul mood, sour wine strong on his breath.

  "Hiss off, runt. No one touches Grundge's tools, no one." Runt indeed! I did not have to force the snarl and growl.

  "Listen you filthy piece of flab-those are the capo's tools, not your tools. And the capo sent me for them. Now either I take them now or my knave goes to bring the capo here. Shall I do that?"

  He closed his fists and growled, then hesitated. Like everyone else, he had seen me drive the capo into the keep and knew I was his confidant. He couldn't take any chances on cro
ssing his boss. He began to bob up and down bowing and scraping.

  "Certainly, master. Grundge knows his place. Tools, sure, take tools. Over here, whatever you want."

  I pushed past his sweaty form to the dismal display of primitive devices. Pathetic! I kicked through the pile until I found a file, hammer, and clumsy metal snips that would have to do. I pushed them towards Dreng.

  "Take these. And you, Grundge, can crawl over in the morning to the barn and get them back."

  Dreng followed after me, then gaped up in awe at the steam cart.

  "Close your mouth before you catch some flies," I told him, seizing the tools. "What I'll need next is a stout bag or sack of some kind, about this big. Scout one out and bring it to me here. Then get to bed because you will not be getting much sleep tonight."

  With proper tools I could have done the job in no time at all. But I had a feeling that tolerances wouldn't be that exact here and as long as I was close to the model it would be all right. The metal siding next to the drivers seat was roughly the thickness of the wooden key. I cut and filed and hacked a portion of it into shape. It would have to do.

  Dreng-and hopefully everyone else-was now asleep and I could begin Operation Great-groat. With the key in my pocket, the bag tucked into my waist, silent as a shadow-I hoped-I made way into the depths of the keep. I had memorized The Bishop's map and his spirit must have been watching after me for I found the treasury without being seen. I slipped the key into the lock, crossed the fingers of my free hand, and turned.

  With a metallic screech it clanked open. My heart did its usual pounding-in-chest routine while I stood rooted there. The noise must have been heard.

  But it hadn't been. The door creaked slightly when I opened it and then I was inside the vault and easing it shut behind me.

  It was beautiful. High, barred windows let in enough light so I could see the big chests against the far wall. I had done my fiscal research well, getting a look at a braggard's store of groats, so I knew just what to look for.

  The first chest was stuffed with brass groats, my fingers could distinguish their thick forms in the darkness. In logical progression I found silver groats in the next chest and I shoveled my bag half full of them. As I did this I saw a smaller chest tucked in behind this one. I smiled into the darkness as I groped and felt the angled shapes within. Golden groats-and lots of them. This was going to be a very successful heist after all. I only stopped shoveling when the bag became too heavy. Beware of greed. With this bit of advice to myself I threw it over my shoulder and let myself out just the way I had come in.

  There were guards in the courtyard but they never saw me as I slipped into the barn. I turned on the instrument limits of the car, which provided more than enough illumination for me to see by. I opened the storage locker below and put the money bag into place. As I closed it I was overwhelmed by a great sensation of relief. In my mind's eye I slid out another rook to join the first. The chess game was going as planned and mate was clearly visible ahead.

  "Now, Jim," I advised. "Get your head down and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be an exceedingly busy day. "

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I muttered and slapped and rolled over but the irritation persisted. Eventually I blinked my grimy eyes open and growled up at Dreng who was shaking my shoulder. He stepped away in fear.

  "Do not beat me, master-I am only doing as you instructed. It is time to waken for the troops are assembling now in the courtyard. "

  I growled something incoherent and this turned into a cough. When I did this a cup appeared before me and I drank deep of the cool water, then dropped back onto the bunk. Not for the first time did I approve of the knave system. But I was beat, hushed, fatigued. Even the stamina of youth can be sapped by adversity. I shook my head rapidly, then sat up on my elbows, angry at myself for the brief moment of self-pity.

  "Go, good Dreng," I ordered, "and find me food to nourish my hungry cells. And some drink as well since alcohol is the only stimulant these premises seem to have." I splashed cold water over my head in the courtyard, gasping and spluttering. As I wiped my face dry I saw in the clear starlight the ranks of soldiers being drawn up as the ammunition was being issued. The great adventure was about to begin. Dreng was waiting when I returned. I sat on my bunk and ate a pretty repellent breakfast of fried dinglebeans washed down by the destructive wine. I talked between gruesome mouthfuls because this was the last private moment I would have with my knave.

  "Dreng, your military career is about to end."

  "Don't kill me, master!"

  "Military career, idiot-not your life. Tonight is your last night of service and in the morn you will be off home with your pay. Where does your old dad hide his money?"

  "We are too poor to have any groats."

  "I am sure of that. But if he had any-where would he put it?"

  This was a complicated thought and he puzzled over it while I chewed and swallowed. He finally spoke.

  "Bury it under the hearth! I remember he did that once. Everyone buries their money under the fire; that way it can't be found. "

  "Great. That way it certainly can be found. You have got to do better than that with your fortune."

  "Dreng has no fortune."

  "Dreng will have one before the sun rises. I'm paying you off. Go home and find two trees near your home. Stretch a rope between them. Then dig a hole exactly hallway along the rope. Bury the money there-where you can find it when you need it. And only take out a few coins at a time. Do you have that?"

  He nodded enthusiastically. "Two trees, halfway. I never heard of anything like that before!"

  "An earth-shaking concept, I know," I sighed. There certainly was a lot that he hadn't heard about. "Let's go. I want you to be stoker on my chariot of fire." I staggered to my feet and led the way to the barn. Now that the troops were lined up and ready the officers were finally appearing, scratching and yawning, with the capo at their head. I didn't have much time. Dreng climbed into the car behind me and squealed with fear when I turned on the instrument lights.

  "Demonic illumination! Spirit lights! Sure sign of death!" He clutched at his chest and looked ready to expire until I gave him a good shaking.

  "Batteries!" I shouted. "The gift of science denied to this dumb world. Now, stop quaking and open your bag. "

  All thoughts of death vanished and his eyes stuck out like boiled eggs as I shoveled silver and gold groats into his leather bag. This was a fortune that would change his entire life for the better, so at least I was accomplishing one good deed by my presence here.

  "What are you doing up there?" It was Capo Dimonte, glaring up suspiciously from below.

  "Just stoking the engines, excellency."

  "Kick that knave out of the way, I'm coming up." I waved the goggle-eyed Dreng to the back of the car as the capo climbed aboard.

  "You favor me with your presence, capo."

  "Damned right. I ride while the troops walk. Now, move this thing out. "

  The scouts had already gone on ahead when we rumbled across the drawbridge and onto the causeway. The main body of troops came behind us, a certain eagerness in their step despite the hour. All of them had lost valuables and possessions-even knaves-during the raid. All were eager for revenge and theft.

  "The Capo Doccia must be taken alive," Capo Dimonte suddenly said. I started to answer until I realized that he was talking only to himself. "Tied and left helpless, brought back to the keep. First a little flaying, just enough skin to make a hatband. Then maybe blinding. No-not right away-he must see what is happening to him. . . ." There was more like this, but I tuned it out. I had thoughts of my own-and even some regrets. When The Bishop had been killed, my anger had overwhelmed all of the clear thinking that I should have been doing. AH excuses vanished now-I was embarking on this expedition solely for revenge. And I couldn't dare to be doing it in The Bishop's memory because he would have been seriously opposed to violent action of this kind. But it was too late now to
turn back. The campaign had been launched and we were well on our way.

  "Stop this thing!" the capo ordered suddenly, and I hit the brakes.

  There was a dark knot of men waiting on the road ahead-our advanced scouts. The capo climbed to the ground and I leaned out to see what was happening. They were leading a man who had his arms bound behind him.

  "What happened?" the capo asked.

  "Found him watching the road, excellency. Caught him before he could get away."

  "Who is he?"

  "Soldier, name of Palec. I know him, served with him in the southern campaign."

  The capo walked up to the prisoner and shoved his face close to the other's and snarled. "I have you, Palec. Tied and bound."

  "Aye."

  "Are you the Capo Doccia's man?"

  "Aye, I serve under him. Ptook his groat."

  "You've spent that on wine a long time ago. Will you serve with me and take my groat?"

  "Aye."

  "Release him. Barkus-a silver groat for this man." These mercenaries fought well, but they also changed sides easily enough. Why not? They had no stakes in any of the capos' quarrels. Once Palec had accepted the coin they gave him his weapons back.

  "Speak, Palec," the capo ordered. "You are my loyal servant now, who has taken my groat. But you used to serve with Capo Doccia. Tell me what he plans."

  "Aye. No secret there. He knows that your army is intact and you will be coming after him as soon as you can. Some of us have been sent out to watch the roads, but he doesn't think that you will march for some time yet. He stays drunk, that's a sign he's not expecting a fight."

  "I'll put a sword through his belly, let out the wine and guts!" The capo cut off his dreaming with an effort and forced himself back to the present. "What about his troops? Will they fight?"