The Stainless Steel Rat for President ssr-5

by Harry Harrison

  “I do-and we’re going to use one right now. Let’s just squeeze that mortar down to size first.” I flipped the switch in the opposite direction and the mortar began to shrink as the whine built up. A steady stream of dust poured from an orifice on the MES’s side.

  “Steel molecules,” I said. “Ninety-nine out of every hundred being whipped away.” When the process was completed I put the miniature mortar away and took out a complex machine that rested lightly in the palm of my hand.

  “A tissue regenerator and4iealer, the kind that they have only in the big hospitals. Twenty-four hours in this machine and my arm will be as good as new. I am sure that we all agree I must be in tip-top sh"pe before we start this election campaign. “ The boys shoveled the molecular steel back into the hopper and the sturdy medical machine grew before our eyes. When it was life-size again it was but the work of a moment to pull out its power leads and plug them into the atomic generator of the touring car. Angelina carefully removed the bandages from my arm-it really was a mess-and I lay back in the beneficial embrace of the machine. It hummed therapeutically and industriously and I felt better already.

  I was almost sorry to leave our bosky dell a day later. The tissues of our spirits, as well as the tissues of my arm, had been restored by our stay here. The weather was perfect, the air clear, the pressures none. Angelina and I talked quietly while she knitted; she was using monomolecular fiber to make a bulletproof vest. The boys paid court to Flavia who basked in the warmth of their attention and forgot for the moment the ordeal that she had been through. But once my arm had healed the old itch for action began to scratch for attention. Angelina knew that the picnic in paradise was over when she saw me oiling up the needle guns.

  “Start packing things away, boys,” she said. “We’ll be leaving soon,” After that it was just a matter of steady driving. Flavia’s father had been an agricultural inspector and her early years had been spent traveling with him all over the interior. She knew it well. This enabled her to lead us by mountain tracks, along the escarpment and up through the foothills, staying away from farms and towns as much as possible. We passed the occasional smallholding or wood-cutting party, but little else. When we finally dropped down to the central plateau we were already within sight of our goal.

  “There,” she announced, “the terrain of the Marquez de la Rosa.” “Where?” I asked, gazing out at the horizon-to-horizon expanse of copse and field, hill and forest.

  “Everywhere. It’s all his. Hundreds of thousands of hectares. The nobility are feudal lords on Paraiso-Aqui, the main reason why Zapilote succeeded in his democratic revolution. While many of hereditary aristocracy are immensely cruel to the peasantry, the marquez is one of the few exceptions. Which is why it is so important to enlist him on our side,” “Consider that done,” I told her. “I’m the last of the big-time recruiting sergeants. Bolivar, kindly stop here, before we reach the entrance.” Impressive stone tiers stood before us on both sides of the road, the pair of them surmounted with an ornate arch deeply graven with a noble coat of arms. The shield was full of quarterings, an interesting bar sinister which hinted at lusty ancestry, plus plenty of griffins, lions and other heraldic beasts. I dug deep into the refrigerator and took out the ice bucket. It had a false bottom with even more ice concealed beneath.

  “For you, my jewel,” I said to Angelina, slipping a 400-carat diamond ring onto her finger. She made appreciative gasping noises which accelerated when I passed over the matching necklace. “A few items I have been saving for the right occasion.” “They’re gorgeous!” “Like to like. And a bauble or two for myself to impress our host. “ Such as a ring with a ruby the size of a bird’s egg, with matching ruby-studded band for my hat. The twins clapped appreciatively and Flavia could only stare in shocked silence. I hoped the marquez would be as impressed as well.

  “Onward to meet our destiny!” I ordered, and we rolled elegantly through the gates.

  The smooth road wound up through green meadows, which gradually gave way to a series of ornate gardens. A last swoop through flower-hung trees opened out into a vista of parkland set with fountains, before a last bend of the road that ended before the house. Or mansioncastle whatever. Most ininrassive, if a little gaudy. Turrets, pillars, mullions, towers, acres of windows and rows of crenellation. An ornately dressed figure appeared through the open front doors, and stood awaiting our arrival with great dignity. “The marqu6z?” I asked, greatly impressed.

  “His butler,” Flavia said. “Give him your name, and titleif you have one. “ Do I have one! A dozen, or more, as many as my fertile imagination can invent. I thought swiftly as James opened the car door, then stalked forth to meet the butler who had descended the stairs to meet me.

  “I presume this is the residence of his excellency Gonzales de Torres the MarquBz de la’RosaP” “It is—..” “Good. I was concerned that I had the address right. One castle looks so much like another. Kindly convey to your master the good tidings that the Duke of diGriz is here with his retinue.” “Thank you, thank you. Follow me if you please.” As he ushered us inside he whispered to another flunky who hurried away. We paced through cool corridors, sinking deep into the pile of priceless carpets, to a pair of great wooden doors, which he threw open with a grand gesture while announcing me in a stentorian voice. Head high I swept by.

  The marquez came forward, hand extended. A handsome man with just a touch of gray at his noble temples, lithe and strong with an athlete’s walk. I took the preferred hand and bowed slightly.

  “Welcome, Duke, welcome,” he said with some sincerity. “Jim, if you please, on my world we are most informal.” “Of course, most intelligent. Then you are not of this planet? May I congratulate you on your perfect command of our language. I thought your title was an unfamiliar one.” “Yours however is known across the civilized galaxy. I would not have burst in on you like this had I not been encouraged by one of your relatives who gave me this letter of introduction. “ I passed over the note from Jorge, which put the final stamp of approval on our visit. Introductions were made all around, including to the marqueza, who made her appearance, her jewelry not half as impressive as Angelina’s I was happy to note. When the others cleared out de Torres, as he insisted I call him, and I settled down with a great flask of excellent wine. I got right to the point.

  “I assume that you know that your third cousin four times removed is part of the resistance movement?” “I didn’t know it but it gives me great pleasure to hear that Jorge is working against that monster Zapilote, that degenerate piece of offal that...” He waxed on enthusiastically in this vein for some time and I made mental notes of some of the more fascinating insults.

  “I gather from that that you don’t exactly see eye to eye with the General-President.” I sipped at the wine until he ran down a second time. I knew that we had a valuable recruit as I nodded unhappy agreement to his words and made my pitch.

  “What you say must be true, for tales of this monster’s crimes have even reached my home world of Solysombra, many light-years away. What we find most disturbing is that these crimes are committed in the name of democracy, a system we have come to appreciate. I know, sip some wine, that’s it, must think about the blood pressure, the two words are the same. Like you, people of our class had certain suspicions when the ballot box replaced hereditary rule. But in the long run it worked out all to the good. Particularly when those of noble blood and decent education ran for office themselves. And were elected.” The marquez lifted one aristocratic eyebrow but was too well-bred to doubt my word aloud.

  “It is true, de Torres, if you will think about it. The fact that the aristocracy rules before there are elections does not necessarily mean that it must stop ruling after elections. What it does mean is that the people of character and intelligence have a better chance of being elected than those of no character and pointed heads. I don’t know how it is here, but we have some so-called noble gentlemen on my world who aren’t fit to clean my pigsty.” He
nodded agreement. “We have this problem as well. There are well connected people here whom not only wouldn’t I admit to my house, I won’t profane the air in this room by speaking their names aloud.” “Then we are of a single mindi” I raised my glass as did he and we downed their contents, and I watched with pleasure as they were refilled. “Therefore I volunteer my experience in politics to aid you and your people. There will be two candidates in the next presidential election-and I shall use my considerable professional knowledge to see that there will be a fair election and that the better man will win.” “Can you do that?” “Guaranteed.” “Then you are the savior of Paraiso-Aqui.” “Not me. Salvation will be the new president’s job.” “And who will that man be?” “It is obvious. None other than your noble self.” He was stunned by the words and sat for long moments with his head lowered. When he finally raised his eyes to mine they were filled with sorrow.

  “That cannot be,” he said~’lt must be another. I regret that I cannot be president.”

  Chapter 12

  I was swallowing a mouthful of wine when de Torres spoke these fateful words. I coughed and choked, then finally pulled myself together. “You wqp’t be president?” I managed to finally gasp out. “I don’t understand.” “My reasons are simple. I have no experience with planetary rule and would not know where to begin. Nor could I leave my estates here in the hands of others. I have devoted my whole life to their development. All of these are sound reasons, but are secondary to my most important reason. There is another, far better qualified than 1. Though I cannot deny that I am tempted by the post, and the opportunity to bring down the despicable Zapilote, I must step down in favor of one more eminently qualified.” “Do I know this paragon?” “You do. It is yourself.” Now it was my turn to sit and think-and be tempted. And it was indeed a temptation! A suitable challenge for a man of my persuasion. But there were barriers.

  “But I am not a citizen of this planet,” I protested. “Does that make a difference?” “Usually. But...” I foundered and sank on that but. As an immense idea sprang ftillblown into my brain. It was all there, complete and shining, and presented with the compliments of my subconscious. Which must have been cooking up this masterpiece for some time. But there were details that had to be checked first.

  “May I ask a few questions before I give you my answer?” “By all means.” “Do you have any rustic relatives, well connected but shy by nature, stay-at-homes who prefer their own withdrawn company to those of the outer world?” “Remarkable!” The marqu6z shook his head in wonder63 ment as he refilled our glasses but again. “You have just described my grandnephew. Hector Harapo, in a most exact manner. He is Sir Hector of course, a Knight of the Beeday, a minor order. His small estate borders mine-yet it must be ten years since I saw him last. He does nothing but read scientific books in order to develop new strains of bizeocho berries. The truth is that he is not worldly-wise at all, and were it not for my aid he woukf have been bankrupt years ago.

  “He sounds ideal for our purposes. Of what age is he?” “Roughly yours. About the same build, though he has an immense black beard.” “The beard will be the easiest part. Now, one more question if I may. Would you agree to be vice-president if Sir Hector ran for president? He would do all the work, but you would add the weight of your authority to his campaign.” “Yes, I would be agreeable to that. But I must warn you, as fine a man as he is. Hector is not presidential material.” “I could argue that-1 have seen presidential elections where ancient actors and proven crooks have been electedbut that is not the point now. What we must do, if you agree, is that in the name of common decency we must commit what some might consider to be a crime. But you must judge for yourself. What I would like to do is to pull the wool over the voters’ eyes in the slightest manner. It will be as nothing compared to Zapilote’s electoral crimes. I think that it is possible to run another man in Hector’s place. A man of noble birth, shrewd, experienced, hard, determined...” As I talked his eyes opened wider and wider, his smile grew broader and broader, until he could no longer contain himself and interrupted me with a shout. “YourselfT “None other,” I said, humbly.

  “It is ideal! I can think of no one better suited.” “But there will be difficulties. We must agree on our political platform before we enter into any alliance. You may not like some of the reforms I intend to carry through if elected.” The marquez waved aside any possible disagreement with a flip of one noble hand. “Nonsense. All men of honor and standing agree on this sort of thing. I know by your title that we will have no problems.” “I don’t think it is going to be quite that simple. For instance, what if I were to advocate splitting up the large estates and giving them to the peasants?” “I would shoot you on the spot,” he said with cold simplicity.

  “Lucky that I don’t believe in that myselfl” Which wasn’t quite truthful. But I could see where land reform, all kinds of reform, would be a long and slow process on this planet. We would have to start with basics; the longest journey begins with but a single step, as the shoe salesman said. “No land reform, of course. I just said that to mention some of the political questions that we will be asked if this is an absolutely free election. Now there are one or two little reforms that we will have to consider in order to get the popular vote. They are things that I know we don’t like in theory, but we must make a few concessions in order to get people to vote for us.” “For example?” de Torres asked, most suspiciously, memory of those divided estates still in mind.

  “Well, for example, we must allow universal suffrage, one man, one vote, and that includes women .,,” “Women! They can’t have the same rights as men!” “Would you care to say that to my wife?” “No.” He rubbed his jaw, deep in gloomy thought. “Nor my wife either. These are dangerous and revolutionary thoughts, but I suppose we must entertain them.” “If we don’t the other side will. In order to win we must support the habeas corpus, abolish torture and the secret police, support public health, give free milk to babies and divorces to alienated couples. We must recognize the dignity of man-and woman-and enact laws to protect those rights.” In the end he nodded agreement. “I suppose that you are right. All of my workers enjoy those benefits, so it might be argued that the public at large deserves them too. I can see where this political business can get very complicated.” “You can bet your sweet title it is. So let us get down to work and prepare a party platform.” “Are we having a party on a platform?” “No. A platform is a statement of the things we intend to accomplish after we have been elected. A party in this context is the political organization that we will form to see that we will be elected.” “That sounds reasonable. And what is the name of our party?” As he asked the answer sorane fullblown to mind.

  “It shall be called the NPWP, the Nobles and Peasants and Workers Party.” “Nip-wip; has a nice ring to it. So let it be.” It was the beginning of a memorable evening. Another bottle of priceless wine was cracked and we sat, heads together like the conspirators that we were, making our detailed plans. The marquez was no dummy about life on Paraiso-Aqui, and he knew everyone worth knowing as well. He had food sent in when we became hungry and the session continued far into the night. By morning we were thick as thieves, with all the details worked out, and we retired with feelings of virtue at a job well done.

  I told Angelina what had b"en accomplished while we breakfasted in bed in regal style. But de Torres was no slugabed like me. By the time I appeared he already had the wheels well in motion. He had dispatched his estate manager at dawn to take over operation of Sir Hector’s estate-and had the befuddled knight returned in the same car. You could only admire energy like this. I could see that de Torres would be quite an asset during the election, I met Hector, who had little idea of what was happening, and just sat stroking his great black beard and muttering to himself. A good beard and easy enough to duplicate from photographs. I hoped he would appreciate what good works I would be doing in his name!

  It was then that our first emergency stru
ck. I was actually considering a morning drink, to give me an appetite for lunch, when de Torres came stamping out of his study.

  “Something is happening,” he said. “An emergency message is on its way. Come with me.” I hurried after him to the elevator, where I had my first look at one of the mechanical artifacts I would soon learn to appreciate. The operator closed the bronze gate behind us, and turned to his valves.

  Valves? I must have spoken aloud because de Torres smiled and waved proudly in their direction as the ornate cage of the elevator shuddered slightly, then began to smoothly rise.

  “I see you are impressed-nor do I blame you. In the cities you see nothing but shoddy electronics and weak little motors. But in the country we know how to build things better. The forests supply our fuel, the steam plant produces the unleashed energy to pump the water. Hydraulic systems are indestructible. See how smoothly we mount on the piston that supports this cage!” “A wonder!” I said, and meant it. The cylinder must be buried deep in the foundation, the piston at least a hundred meters long. I hoped their metallurgy was up to it. I watched the water drip slowly from the row of valves and sighed with relief when the gate finally opened.

  I had more mechanical joys in store. No simple radio or telephone room awaited us. Instead there was an exhausting climb up a circular staircase to a turret room that stood high above the rest of the castle. A half-dozen men labored here, amidst the hot smell of metal and the hiss of escaping steam. Thick pipes came up through the floor to feed a hulking black engine studded with wheels, levers and gauges. This machine was silent for the moment and all attention was upon the man who stood squinting through a powerful telescope, shouting out numbers.

  “Seven... two... niner... four... unsure... end of line. Send a repeat for that last phrase.” The machine operator began industriously working his handles. The device groaned, hissed and clanked as tall pistons pushed shining steel rods up and down. I followed their movements upwards through the wrought-iron-framed glass roof, and farther up still to the top of the spire where great metal arms jerked and waved.