Everything almost ended at that moment as all of my weight came on the metal collar about my neck. That’s the way they kill people, you know, by hanging. Not by suffocating them. By giving that sudden jerk to the noose that breaks the spinal cord.
This thought was uppermost in my mind as I clutched and scrabbled at the cable and managed to grip it before the snap came. And it came on the front of my neck, not the side, or I might very well have heard that sharp crack that signals the end. It hurt and everything went around in circles for a minute and when I said Wow! it was in a whispered voice because I had not done my vocal cords any good either.
Eventually I sat up and drank some water and felt a little better – and wondered why no one had come to investigate all the recent nonsense. I was sure they had the room bugged to watch me, but perhaps they were not impressed by my acrobatics. Or maybe they were so busy with the invasion that they did not have time to keep that careful an eye on me. If this latter supposition were correct, then perhaps I might be able to capitalize on it.
The food wrappings and the water bottle wadded together to make excellent padding for my hands. Around this I wrapped a double loop of the cable, close against my neck. Then, clutching the cable tightly, I jumped as high as I could and let my weight crash down on the cable.
And on my arms. By the tenth time I had done this I was beginning to feel as though my arms would be torn off at the sockets before any vital part of my imprisoning mechanism gave way. The theory was certainly sound enough. A metal box, a cable, a handle, a hook, a number of components the failure of any one of which might grant freedom. Though my components were failing much faster. I panted a bit, wiped my forehead with my fore arm, and jumped up for try number thirteen.
Lucky thirteen! Something snapped with a sharp metallic crack and the box came down and bounced off my head.
I was out, how long I don’t know, probably only a few moments, and came to shaking my head and trying to stand. Move was the pressing thought, get out of here before they came for me. But first I had to deactivate the torture box since it could be worked by remote radio control. I turned it over and saw that the metal loop by which it was suspended had fractured. There was a control section here with about 50 small red buttons arranged in a grid. I shivered at the thought of pressing any of them. Above the grid were two large buttons, one red, one black. The red was depressed. This seemed obvious enough. Logically I should push the black one and turn the box off, but memories of the pain kept intruding. Finally I stabbed down on the black button.
Nothing happened. That I could feel. With this security I lightly touched one of the small red buttons, then another and another. Nothing. The box was now so much dead metal. I hoped. I coiled up the extra cable until the box dangled handily. Then tried the door. Which proved to be unlocked. Inefficient warders or great faith in their torture machines. Putting my eyes close to the edge of the door I opened it a crack.
And closed it even more swiftly. Coming down the corridor towards me were two of the gray men carrying a sinister looking object between them. I had not seen enough of it to capture any details, though what I had seen had given me a definitely crawling sensation. The next step in the diGriz pacification program? This seemed highly probable when the door handle started to turn.
There was a surprise in store for this pair and I wanted to keep it from them as long as I could. As the door opened I stepped behind it and waited while they struggled with the bulky torture machine. Only when I heard one of them gasp in alarm did I put my shoulder to the door and ram it into them with all my weight and strength. As soon as they crunched and howled I jumped around the door, the metal control box swinging at the end of its cable.
One of them was bent over, more interested in the weight of the machine on his foot than in anything else and I let my weapon bounce off the top of his skull. While it rebounded the second man tried for his gun and actually had it halfway out of its holster before my knee caught him low in the stomach and he folded on top of his associate. I plucked the gun from his limp fingers as he went down and now I was armed.
During most of my stay in the building I had been conscious and I thought I knew my way out. Back through the main entrance which was sure to be guarded. It was one flight down and in the opposite direction from Kraj’s chambers. The gausspistol had a full charge of power and a filled magazine as well. There was no time to check what kind of ammunition it was loaded with, but it was surely something lethal which was fine by me. I was in a lethal mood. I wrapped the cable up close to the box so it wouldn’t swing and get in my way, took a deep breath – and dived out of the door.
The hallway was empty, a good beginning. I trotted to the stairs without seeing anyone, then went down them two at a time. The next floor would be the ground floor since they had only taken me up one storey. This memory was opposed by the reality that there was a rather large stairwell beside me that did not end at the next floor. When this fact finally registered on my tardy synapses I skidded to a stop and looked carefully over the edge of the railing.
There were at least eight more stories below this one.
They had been running through my cerebral cortex with their little leaden boots. This certainly proved my theoretical stance that a good deal of what had happened to me was illusion or false memory. What had been real? Was this ‘escape’ real at the present moment? This was a chilling thought; everything that was happening could be a generated series of unreal events to prove to me that I could not escape. I could keep going down these stairs forever or wake up at any moment back in my room still attached to my pendant box. Well, if this were true, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I had to treat this illusion like reality until it proved otherwise. Unless this was an endless dream building these stairs had to end somewhere, and I was going to find out.
Four floors down, just when I was beginning to get dizzy from the constant circling, I met another man coming up. A gray man with a rifle and a very surprised look. Since I had been expecting this encounter and he hadn’t I got in the first shot.
Quite a shot. The gausspistol was loaded with explosive slugs. They blasted a gaping hole in the staircase and hurled the gray man against the wall where he slumped, crumpled and unconscious. The echoes were still booming and the dust unsettled when I leaped the gaping hole and hurled myself down the stairs at a suicidal pace. It would be more certain suicide to wait around.
The stairs ended, I was at the bottom, and I slammed into the wall I was going so fast. There was much shouting from above me and the hammer of running feet. My gun at the ready I pushed open the door and walked into blackness.
It was a bit of a shock and I almost fired off a couple of rounds on general principle but, as my eyes adjusted, I saw a dim light in the distance. There were rough walls and dust and other indications that I had bypassed the ground floor and ended up in a cellar. Which was all right too since there was undoubtedly a warm reception waiting for me a flight above. If I could get out of the basement I was still one jump ahead of the competition. Gun ready, metal box swinging, shins bruised by unseen obstacles, I stumbled towards the far off light. I was not enthused when I reached towards the far off light. I was not enthused when I reached it after running the invisible obstacle course. It was a window.
But a small window, high on the wall, coated with insect corpses and dirt. And heavily barred.
Behind me in the darkness there were shouts, running feet, crashing noises and healthy curses. What to do?
Obvious. Get out. I stepped back, raised the gun, shielded my face, and blew the window out. And part of the wall around it and some of the street outside until my gun clicked empty. I dropped it, slung my box over my shoulder and used my free hand to help me scrabble up the slope of rubble and out into the street.
To start running again. Someone saw me and shouted but I did not shout back. I ran harder even though I was getting winded and more than a little fatigued by the effort. It is one thing to escape
, it is another thing altogether to stay free once out. Barefooted, dressed in totally transparent clothes with a collar and some meters of wire about my neck, not to mention the control box, I must have presented a rather unusual and unmistakable sight. I needed to hide, hole up, change, get rid of the collar, a lot of things. And I was getting very tired.
I went around a corner as fast as I could and slammed into someone coming in the opposite direction. We both went down and I rolled on my back like a bug, near exhaustion, gasping for air. Then I saw the face of the man I had run into and had a last little burst of hope.
‘Ostrov,’ I gasped. ‘Old friend, old roommate, old co-pilot. I am in trouble and need your help. The locals, you see …’
I saw Ostrov, a mild man at the worst of times, turn into a very angry animal. Twisted face, bulging eyes, the works. He dived on me and pinned me to the cold ground.
‘Locals nothing,’ he shouted. ‘Kraj has been asking after you. Kraj wants you. What have you done?’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I STRUGGLED A BIT, but it did me no good. My heart wasn’t in it and I was close to exhaustion. Though I did manage to catch my ex-friend Ostrov a good one on the side of the head with my torture box. His eyes crossed but he didn’t let go and by that time a small squad of gray men were upon us, peeling him off and prodding me to my feet with their rifle barrels. I prodded slowly. Sunk in dark despair and limp with fatigue I was certainly in no hurry.
There were six of them and Ostrov, who had a look on his face of wishing to be elsewhere.
‘Kraj talked to me, you see. About Vaska here, said he wanted him …’ His voice ran down and expired when the stoney faced men completely ignored him. I didn’t.
‘What did you expect – gratitude? You rat. Starting your own bowb-your-buddy week, aren’t you?’ I tried to sneer but it turned to a gurgle when one of my captors jerked on my cable. One of my five captors. I blinked and looked again because I could swear there had been six there a moment ago.
While I was still counting a pair of hands reached up and closed around the neck of number five. His eyeballs bulged and his mouth gaped and I worked to keep my expression calm and not to bulge my own eyes in the same manner. The hands scrunched, the eyes closed, and number five vanished from sight. I struggled a bit so the survivors would keep their attention on me, even lashing out a foot and getting Ostrov in the ankle to keep him occupied as well.
‘You didn’t have to do that,’ he complained. I smiled as number four went the way of the others.
There was something to be admired in the efficient and quiet disposal of the enemy. It reminded me of a hunter I once worked with on a planet whose name I forget. He was a professional and very good at his job. He would go out at dawn when a flock of birds was going over and shoot the last bird in the flight. Then the next one and the next one. He could get four or five sometimes without the other birds even knowing what was happening. The same principle was being applied here in an equally professional way.
The system broke down with number four who thrashed a bit and drew the attention of one of the others, human beings being slightly smarter than birds after all. I waited until they had turned towards the disturbance then let the nearest gray man have it in the side of the neck with the edge of my hand. Fatigue weakened the blow so that he didn’t drop at once and I had to let him have a few more to quiet him. And while I worked I was aware of thuds and cut-off screams from the others.
When I straightened up I saw that Ostrov and all but one of the gray men were dozing happily in a heap, while my rescuers put down the final one. He was a big bruiser and fought well, but he was outclassed and soon unconscious. Which was interesting because both of his attackers were women – dressed in skimpy and colorful Burada shifts and high-heeled local shoes. The nearest one turned and I recognized Sergeant Taze and some of the pieces began to fall into place.
The other woman was smaller and quite neatly formed, with a figure I remembered and a face I could not forget. My wife.
‘There, there,’ Angelina said, patting me on one cheek and giving me a quick kiss on the other. ‘I hope you can run a bit darling, because more of these thugs are on the way.’ A projectile of some kind whined by to punctuate the statement.
‘Run …’ I said hoarsely and staggered off, still not quite sure what had happened but at least still bright enough to not ask any questions. Taze put her arm around me, getting me going in the right direction and pulling me along, while my Angelina relieved me of the weight of box and cable. We rushed away like that and I’m sure we made a charming sight, me in my transparent coveralls and the girls in their neat little frocks, except no one was on the street to appreciate the scene.
‘Keep going!’ Taze shouted as she dragged me around a corner. There were explosions close behind us. I ignored everything except putting one foot in front of the other as fast as I could and wondered just how long I would last.
Taze seemed to know what she was doing. Before we had gone very far in this new direction she turned, half carried me up a few steps and into a building. She threw the bolts on the heavy door and we staggered on, a little slower now, through deserted offices of some kind, to the rear where the windows faced on a courtyard. There was a good sized drop here and Taze went first, lithe as a big cat, then helped me down with Angelina lowering from above. I was as putty in their hands, and a very nice sensation it was too. Taze ran ahead to open a large door. Inside was a Cliaand command car with a general’s flag still flying from the antenna.
‘That’s more like it,’ I said, walking over on rubbery legs.
‘In the back, you two,’ Taze ordered, pulling on a military jacket and pushing her hair up under a Cliaand helmet. I did not ask what had happened to the original owner. Angelina was right behind me when I crawled into the back and collapsed on the floor, snuggling her warm round curves up against me. I felt very comfortable as the car bounced forward. I enjoyed a good hug and a kiss before I could get in any questions.
‘Your figure has improved,’ I managed to gasp when I came up for air.
‘You’ll be so happy to know that you are now the proud father of twins. Both boys. With big mouths and hearty appetites like their father. I’ve named them James and Bolivar after you.’
‘Anything you say, my sweet. I suppose you would not mind telling me how you came to be here at this most opportune moment?’
‘I came to take care of you, and as you can see I was right.’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said, and nodded dimly at this fine bit of female logic. ‘Mechanically, I mean. The last I saw you were headed for the hospital with a bulge in your midriff and the light of motherhood in your eyes.’
‘Well that all worked out fine as I’ve told you, weren’t you listening? Then I heard that these filthy Cliaand people were off to invade another planet and that you were probably taking part in the invasion.’
‘Inskipp told you all this?’
‘Of course not!’ She sniffed delicately at the thought. ‘I broke into his files and found the records. He was very angry but did not try to stop me when I came here with the follow-up team. I imagine he knew better than to interfere. In fact he promised to keep an eye on the nurse and the children for me. We went into orbit, received the message and I came down, that’s about all there is to it. Let me try this lock pick on that horrid collar thing you’re wearing. I don’t know why you ever let them treat you like this.’
‘There are one or two gaps in your story,’ I insisted. ‘Like what message?’
‘My message,’ Taze said, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping while she drove. ‘You forget that I am a sergeant in the Guard and I had seen the message you prepared, the one they took away. So of course I had memorized it as well as the radio frequencies. Those swine took me to a prison camp for civilians so I left it that same night.’ Taze was quite sure of herself and, looking back at the record, I realized she had cause to be.
‘I came down in a scout ship as soon
as the call was heard.’ Angelina diddled with the lock pick while she talked. ‘I had to shoot my way in which certainly was not hard to do. For galaxy conquerors these people are very indifferent pilots. Then I met Taze.’ Angelina touched her lips to my ear and hissed coldly. ‘How well do you know this girl?’ She twisted the collar at the same time.
‘Just met her that once,’ I gasped, and the pressure let off. ‘Not my type at all.’
‘You like them buxom like that, don’t lie to me Jim diGriz.’
I blinked rapidly and tried to restore the conversation to its original direction.
‘But then, how did you find me? What did you do?’
‘Simple enough.’ There was a click and the collar snapped open. I rubbed my sore neck with relief. ‘There is only one building where these men in gray uniforms operate. We watched it, trying to find a way in. Our only trouble was the soldiers, trying to pick us up all the time. But we extracted information from them. And this car.’
I had a vision of these two murderous cuties slowly decimating the Cliaandian invasion with their own secret weapons, and knew enough not to ask about the fate of the driver and his friends.
‘Now tell us what happened to you,’ Angelina said, and snuggled down to hear a good story. ‘I’m dying to find out what this thing is they had on your neck and why in heaven you are wearing that awful transparent suit.’
I told them all right, and was rewarded with a number of girlish gasps, and at least one screech when I got to the wrist part. Taze even stopped the car so she could look at the scars too. After that they listened in cold-eyed stillness and I almost felt sorry for any of the gray men they might meet in the future. By the time I had finished my fascinating and slightly repulsive story we had arrived at wherever we were going. A wide door opened at our approach and closed behind us. Other girls were there, well armed and attractive for the most part, and I wondered how the Konsolosluk party had ever managed to muster up a resistance to a government like this. Thank the Cliaandians for that. When it comes to governments and armies I’m pretty much of an anarchist and think least is best in both departments. But if you have to have them it sure helps if they are pretty. I shook my head, and let myself be led to a room where there was a very enticing army cot. I dropped onto it.
The Stainless Steel Rat eBook Collection Page 94
