The Stainless Steel Rat Joins the Circus ssr-11

by Harry Harrison

  “1 did.”

  “Capital! If you would be so kind as to don it now, we will proceed.”

  I was left alone. Grissini was working, Angelina was dressing, I was drinking. Just enough to mellow me after Kaia’s grim financial machinations. I had really begun to enjoy my morning calls to the bank.

  “Do you like it?” Angelina said.

  “Divine!” And it was-floor-length, black and velvety, fascinatingly low-cut above, flaring out when she turned.

  “It will do,” the Great Grissini said from the doorway. “Let us begin. I must instruct Angelina in her role.” He looked at his watch. “Jim, you will join us in exactly a half an hour.”

  “Good as done,” I said, looking at my own watch, then at the bottle. Well, maybe a small one while I marked the passage of time.

  I was feeling remarkably mellow when I entered our home theater and took my seat. Dark curtains were drawn at the back of the stage. Which was empty save for three large cubes. Music welled up at Grissini’s entrance and the maestro himself came on stage. He bowed to the audience and I clapped like fury.

  “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, thank you. You must now prepare yourself for a magical thrill that will amaze, entrance and mystify you. Let us begin.”

  He walked over to the white cubes and tapped them with his wand; good, solid wood. Then he ran his fingers along his wand-and it vanished. Reaching down he turned the cubes, one by one, to face the audience, showing that they were foursided and open at both ends. Black outside, white inside and on the edges. His wand reappeared in his hand and he ran it through the opening of each one.

  “Empty as you see. Simple, four-sided constructions, empty as you can see. I will now place them-so.”

  The wand vanished again to free his hands. He picked up the first box and walked over and placed it in the center of the stage. Then placed the others on each side of the first to make a platform. The wand reappeared to be tapped on their solid surfaces, passed through their open ends. This done he turned and bowed.

  “Now, ladies and gentlemen and honored guests, I ask you to welcome my assistant, the lovely Angelina, who will assist me in this display of magic.”

  I clapped as loudly as I could, as any audience certainly would as my Angelina made her entrance. Slowly and seductively, smiling warmly and waving to the enthusiastic crowd of one.

  Soft music welled up as Grissini took her hand and led her forward to bow. Then back to the row of cubes. Slowly and carefully, she sat down on the center cube, then swung her legs up and lay down on the cubes. She smiled at the audience, her right hand supporting her chin, her fill black skirt draped over the white edge of the cubes. Grissini was making magical passes over her in time with the music and his wand vanished yet again.

  Then he bent over and pulled the center cube out from under her.

  I gasped in awe, as any good audience would gasp, because she still lay there, unbending and straight as a die even though the center of her body was no longer supported.

  Then I gasped even louder as he slowly pulled the supporting cube out from under her elbow so that she was floating in midair.

  Floating totally in midair when he pulled away the third and last support.

  She smiled and waved at me when Grissini looked away. I applauded until my hands hurt. The music crescendoed as he held up a large metal hoop, bounced it on the floor to prove its solidity—then slowly slipped it over her head. Moved it down the entire length of her body. Even around her feet to show that that she was truly suspended invisibly in midair. My hands were numb with unceasing applause.

  The ring moved back the length of her body and was thrown, clanging, into the wings. Now the sprightly music accompanied the magician as, one by one, he slipped the white cubes back under her floating body. Then helped her down to join him in a bow. She came forward: I jumped to my feet to embrace her.

  “My magical wife!” I cried aloud. “Didn’t the wires hurt?”

  “No wires. You saw the ring go the entire length of my body.”

  “I did-and I didn’t understand it. Real magic?”

  “Let us rather say real illusion.”

  Grissim exited-towards the atrium I noticed; magic can be exhausting. Or perhaps he did not want to be there when his magic secrets were revealed.

  “I still don’t understand how it is done. Something about the cubes maybe?”

  “No. They are exactly what they seem to be. Solid wood. Placed in a row you will remember. Then I made my entrance, you will remember.”

  “Unforgettable!”

  “But distracting. Grissini walked across the stage to greet me and the spot stayed on him as he moved. Distraction. That is when the magic happened-not later when he took the boxes away.”

  “Of course! Many magic tricks occur well before the trick is seen to be happening. The audience was looking at you and him. And not looking at the boxes. That was when the illusion occurred.”

  I went to look at the spot where the boxes had been placed close to the black curtains at the rear of the stage. The illusion was so good that I was a foot away before I saw it.

  A thin black platform, floating in midair, that had supported Angelina.

  “But that is magic as well! That can’t just float there.”

  I looked closely at it, under it, then ran my hands along it.

  To find the strong black steel beam that protruded from the curtains. Undoubtedly supported by a strong frame hidden by the curtains. Understanding struck.

  “Of course! That platform wasn’t there when he walked around the stage, then put the boxes into place. Only when he went to greet you and the spotlight followed him. In the darkness, radio-controlled undoubtedly, the beam came forward and slid the platform into place atop the boxes. Invisible from the audience because it was black like the tops of the boxes. But the ring-it went the length of your body, even past your shoes-”

  “And back,” she reminded. “The loop was big enough for the back of the loop to stop when it reached the supporting bar. Big enough for the front of the ring to go past my feet and even behind me.”

  “Of course! It had to come back the way it came on because the bar was stopping it from going all the way. What a wondrous effect!”

  We went to join Grissini and to congratulate him. He shrugged it off as his accepted due. And shook an admonitory finger.

  “You have little time left and very much more to learn.”

  He was right, of course. I had only a week to go.

  I worked even harder. Drank nothing and slept only a few hours a night. And I practiced. By this time I was adroit at producing large birds from apparent thin air, and could draw hundreds of flags from an empty tube. I practiced with the floating apparatus, which Angelina greatly enjoyed, until I had the illusion under perfect control.

  I could even read written questions from the audience by pressing the papers with their questions to my forehead.

  I was most happy when I learned to do this. It had always impressed me on stage. And the illusion was so simple. I read the name of the first questioner and he responded from the audience. After answering his written question, I opened it and read his name aloud again. Discarded the paper and took another one. Which I read aloud as the audience gasped.

  But the first question had been a plant, the man in the audience my accomplice. When I glanced at his question to verify it-it was not his question at all. But the first real question. Memorized and read out while the second real question was on my forehead. I was one question ahead all of the time. Illusion! Misdirection!

  The week was over, our bags packed, tickets bought. It was time to go-and begin earning money again. It hurt to spend my own money as I had been doing since Chaise produced his microscopic contract.

  We all shook hands and the Great Grissini was not looking that great.

  “It was nice to be working again,” he said, then sighed heavily.

  “I will be ever grateful for your aid. Sorry it had to end
so quickly.” I turned away, trying not to see the pathos in his eyes.

  “Take care of yourself,” Angelina said. He grimaced.

  “It will be Happy Hectares that will be doing the caring,” he said. No pleasure in his voice.

  I got ready to plant the prepared spear-but I could not.

  “Look,” I said. “It was a privilege to work with you, to bring some happiness into your life. And it is going to continue, I promise that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The bank. They’ll send you a check every week. Enough to buy better food and decent drink and all the little pleasures of life that make it worth living.”

  He was shocked at the thought. Then his eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch? Why you doing this?”

  “Because he is a nice man,” Angelina said.

  “Not that nice,” I said. “I had not planned to be so uncommonly generous. Let us say I have had a change of heart.”

  “Jim-what in the world are you talking about?” She looked puzzled.

  “I just couldn’t go through with it. You see, I was going to arrange for the payments to continue, but only in exchange for … the secret of the Vanishing Boy Sprout. But I have to look at myself in the mirror every day. And the one crime I have suddenly realized that I have never committed is blackmail. I’m a little too old to start that kind of thing now. So enjoy your retirement. And think of me every night when you celebrate the cocktail hour.” I whistled to our luggage and tiny motors hummed as they followed after us.

  “I don’t believe it!” he called after us.

  “Believe it,” Angelina said. “Tough-as-nails diGriz is really an old sweetie at heart.”

  “I’ll blush if you keep that up,” I said as I kissed her on the cheek. I had reached the cab when the door opened behind us.

  “I’ll tell you,” he said. “My decision.”

  “Our spacer won’t wait,” Angelina said.

  “This won’t take a minute. You should have picked up on it when I said the boy walked behind me. Out of sight of the audience for a moment. Misdirection.”

  “Something happened then!” I shouted happily. “But what?” I muttered gloomily.

  “He stopped. Concealed by my cape. That’s why I always close with this illusion. When it is over the curtain comes down. He runs into the wings before the curtain comes up again and I take my bows.”

  “But-if he doesn’t climb the rope-who does?”

  “An image. That was not a rope that rose from the basket it was the image of a rope. At the precise moment that the boy walked behind me I actuated the holograph projector to continue with the recording. The rope apparently rising in the air before me is just a holographic image of a rope. Remember the real boy stopped and is hidden by my cape. Now the holographic image of the boy walks out from behind me so that it is his image that appears to climb the image of the rope-“

  “And disappears as only an image can. The image of the rope falls back into the basket and only the real rope remains.”

  “The curtain closes,” Angelina laughed, “and the crowd leaves, happily pleased. As we do, maestro. You are really great, the Great Grissini.”

  We left him bowing-he left us laughing. It really was a great performance.

  Chapter 5

  Once we were aboard the spacer that would take us to Fetorrscoria, the euphoria of the Great Grissini’s last great performance quickly wore away. One major problem still faced us. Angelina must have seen my scowl and she tried to jolly me out of it. It was no good. Thoughts of a porcuswine danced in my head. How could I make one of those fine creatures disappear-if I didn’t have one in the first place?

  “What do you say to a glass of champagne in the Star Bar before lunch?” I growled throatily and she patted my arm. “Yes, dear.”

  Before we could leave the cabin the message bell pinged and the comscreen lit up. “No doubt vital information about the next lifeboat drill,” I sneered as I grimaced-which is not easy to do-at my image in the mirror as I combed my hair.

  “Not quite,” Angelina said, going over to read it. “It’s from James. He’s found a porcuswine for us! Full details follow. He has arranged for us to be met as soon as we clear customs. By a man named Igor who has a truck. He knows where we have to go. He closes with best wishes and good luck.” She pressed the print button and a copy of the message rolled out of the machine. “He has arranged our entire schedule.”

  “That’s our boy!” I elated fondly. “And I’ll take you up on the champagne offer.”

  The Star Bar was just that. The ceiling was a vast crystal dome, beyond which the stars burnt down upon us from the blackness of interstellar space. Perhaps. I greatly doubted if a hole had been cut in the spacer’s hull just to let us see out. It was an illusion and a very good one. We sipped and smacked and plotted. I scribbled notes on the message from James.

  “If this spacer is on time, and it has to be due to the laws of celestial mechanics, we land on Fetorr just one day before we are due at the circus. The porcuswine ranch is about five hundred clicks from the spaceport. Then two hundred more to Fetorrscoria. We are cutting it very close.”

  “We are. But we have no other choice.”

  “Agreed. So we worry about it after we land.” I put the message into my pocket, drained my glass and pushed the bottle away. “I must make the most of this trip and practice every moment. Without booze to awake tremors in my hand.”

  “But a drink at bedtime?”

  “Of course. I don’t plan to become a teetotaler.”

  Thus the days passed quickly. I practiced until my fingers were supple as snakes. Angelina had been very busy shopping in the days before we left. I had been vaguely aware of this at the time, but too tied up with my magic to take any real notice. I was practicing a very complex card manipulation when she emerged from the bedroom.

  “Do you like it?” she said. I turned around.

  “Zowie! “ I enthused and playing cards went in all directions. It was a shocking scarlet one-piece creation, cut high on the thighs, low on the bust and skintight everywhere. I rushed to embrace her but a friendly little fist to the jaw stopped me dead.

  “You don’t think that it is, well, too revealing for a woman of my age?”

  “Your age is the right age,” I enthused. “You are gorgeous and desirable and every male past puberty in the audience will be watching you, not me. I can hear the orgone sizzling already.”

  “The emerald tiara is not too much?”

  “Fine. It matches the thingumbobby at your waist.”

  “I’m not sure,” she said, pirouetting prettily before the mirror. “Maybe the green one…”

  “You have more outfits like this?”

  “Of course.”

  “Make my day! Let’s have a fashion show.”

  I scrabbled up the cards and put them away. Pulled up an armchair, lit a cigar, then poured a small glass of white wine. She had an outfit for every illusion. Green to match the rusty red of her hopeful porcuswine partner to be. Black and red when she passed me the playing cards. Midnight black when she floated in midair. And thus did a pleasant time ensue before the dinner gong bonged.

  The rest of the voyage passed this way. While I honed my magical talents she finalized her costumes. We ate well, slept well-and other than a glass or two of wine with meals the only booze I enjoyed was my evening libation.

  Our schedule was going to be tight when we arrived at our destination. I had to take more positive action rather than just wearing running shoes and elbowing past the rest of the passengers. This involved a little financial meeting with the chief purser. A smarmy type given to much dry hand-wiping and white-toothed grinning.

  “And how may I be of service to you, sir?”

  “You can advise me about my luggage. If we pack our bags the night before we arrive-would you be able to take them then?”

  “It will be my great pleasure.”

  “So if you have them the night before there is no
reason why they cannot be unloaded first?” I slipped him fifty credits as I said this.

  “As good as done, sir-you have my word on that.”

  “And some additional information, if you please. Who would you suggest that I should talk to, to insure that my wife and I are first to leave this admirable vessel?”

  “Myself, sir! Disembarking is at my discretion.” Another banknote vanished.

  “I imagine that you make this run very often. Do you have any suggestions about easing our way through customs?”

  “It is funny that you should say that, sir. My cousin is a customs agent at the spaceport and-”

  Much lighter in pocket, but much more relaxed about our arrival, I returned to our cabin to pack.

  Through all this not-too-subtle bribery we were first off the spacer when she landed. First through customs, courtesy of the purser’s cousin, where our untouched and unsearched luggage awaited us. Waiting there was a burly type in soiled and wrinkled coveralls who held a sign that read MISTUR DEGRIZZ. I signaled to him and he approached.

  “You deGrizz?”

  “Me diGriz. Who you?”

  “Igor. Come.”

  I whistled and our luggage followed us, as we followed him out of the terminal into the dusty, fume-filled street outside. Angelina sniffed.

  “I don’t like this place-nor do I like our monosyllabic friend, Igor. ”

  “I’m afraid it’s that kind of a planet. Mining and heavy manufacturing for the most part. Did you detect a certain tone of desperation in James’s last memo?”

  “I did. Let us see what kind of transportation he has provided. Uggh! ”

  Uggh, indeed. The truck was a great, scratched, filthy cubical thing with wheels on all four corners. It had once been painted pink, surely a mistake, and on its side, under a layer of dirt, a message could be read.

  IGOR VAN SERVICE-GO ANYWHERE

  I hoped that this was true. Igor opened a hatch and pitched our luggage in. Then climbed a ladder to the cab above. The engine rumbled to life and belched a fetid black cloud over us. Through watery eyes I saw his hand appear in the open door where it made a single gesture of invitation before vanishing from sight. We climbed after him, settled onto the scratched and patched seat, stared out of the filthy front window as gears ground somewhere below us. The thing lurched and vibrated, then rumbled forward onto the road.