The Stainless Steel Rat for President ssr-5

by Harry Harrison

  “Stop!” I ordered-and they obeyed. “I can understand how you feel. But you are going to see justice done. I am going to prefer charges against this man in a court of law and we will see if the law of the land is still observed in this fair city. “ As soon as we were clear of the press of the crowd we picked up speed, then did not stop again until we got to the hotel. The main reason that the Hotel Gran Parajero had been picked was because of its underground garage. Our little convoy hurtled down into it, and all the other cars circled about mine until the area was declared safe. While this was going on I had gone through the gunman’s pockets and had found his identification. He was so stupid that he had actually gone out on this assassination mission and taken this along. I read aloud.

  “This says that he is a member of the Federal Health Alteration Committee. What in the world is that?” The marqu6z nodded grimly.

  “You would not know. But that is the official name of the Ultimados. Killers!” “But not too good at it.” As though to prove my words the unconscious Ultimado came to life and pulled a large knife from his belt. I kicked him in the head and he dropped it and sank back again. I bent and seized him up and threw him over my shoulder. “I’ll carry him, de Torres, you bring the gun. The press will be waiting and we will really give them something to write about. “ We made an impressive sight as we barged into the main ballroom which had’ been set up for the press meeting. Cameras whirled and flashed and the crowd of newsmen buzzed and stirred like a hornet’s nest. They were all there, newspapers, radio, TV, everything. Now the campaign would really begin.

  I dropped the Ultimado onto the floor at my feet, then turned to face the press. I raised a clenched fist over my head and glared out ominously as I leaned close to the waiting microphones.

  “Do you know what is in my hand? Bullets. Bullets that were fired at me just a few minutes ago.” I threw the slugs down and pointed to the limp figure. “And this is the man who fired those bullets at me-from the very gun that the Marquez de la Rosa is waving angrily over his head. He is as angry as I am. We have just begun this peaceful and democratic campaign when we have been shot at. And not by any common assassin. I have this creature’s ID here. Do you recognize it? He is an Ultimado, one of the criminals employed by the dictator Zapilote. Now you know why you must reject this evil dictator at the ballot box and vote for me!

  “For I will bring peace and freedom to Paraiso-Aqui at last. Vote for me and this planet will finally live up to its name. Vote! Vote! Vote!” The campaign had begun. And when the news came out the entire world would know what was really happening.

  Chapter 21

  “Not a mention of any kind!” Angelina famed. “Nothing in the evening papers, nothing on television-not a single word on the radio. There is a complete news blackout.” “Of course,” I said, nodding sagely as I brushed bits of dinner from my beard. “We expected nothing less. Did you have any doubts at all that the press was compromised? But doubts are one thing, proof another. And now we can prove it. We’ll see if we can make tomorrow’s news just a mite more interesting. But for the moment we must think about the rally. How is it going?” “The stadium has been filled to overflowing for the last hour and we are running out of bean sandwiches. Viewing screens and loudspeakers have been set up all around the stadium for those who couldn’t get in.” “Any tourists in the crowd?” “A lot of them. They seem to think that the whole thing is a lot of fun. “ “It would be a lot less fun if they weren’t there. Zapilote must be getting desperate by now. I doubt if he will do anything drastic during the rally with the tourists present. But afterwards...” “You watch your step.” “My love, I have every intention of doing just that. Shall we go?” We went. With all the defensive screens of the votemobile full on. And other precautions as well. We remained inside the garage until a spotter in the hotel above gave us the go-ahead signal. As soon as this arrived the car gunned out into the street-to slip into the gap between two tourist buses. The ofiworlders were still my best insurance. When we left the highway at the stadium we picked up an escort of pink outrider cars and continued in convoy as we worked our way through the crowds. There was something new outside 116 the entrance. A flexiglass tent with a dozen or more disgruntledlooking men inside it. A jeering crowd surrounded them and pelted the tent with empty wine bottles and stale bean sandwiches.

  “And the significance of this?” I asked James, who came forward to greet us.

  “We had an empty stadium to start with because there was this gang of police spies stationed just outside the entrance. They were taking pictures of everyone coming to the rally, which meant a decided drop in public interest. This was cutting down on the attendance as you can well imagine. Bolivar and I convinced them that they should give us the cameras and then get into that tent.” “Don’t tell me how you did it-I’m a man of peace. Was this the only hitch?” “The only one. Are you ready for your grand entrance, Dad? I mean Sir Harapo.” “Never felt more ready. And you, Marquez?” “The same. This meeting will go down in history. Proceed!” I did. Down the aisle through the cheering crowd, shaking my hands over my head, smiling for the tourists’ cameras, blowing kisses at the babies-but not the babes, for I knew Angelina’s steely gaze was upon me. Climbing to the platform and waiting for the shouting to die away. There was a splendid fanfare of recorded trumpets and the marquez stepped forward.

  “I am the Marquez de la Rosa, as everyone knows. It is my pleasure to run for vice-president of this world, under the leadership of my kinsman. Sir Hector Harapo, Knight of the Beeday, gentleman botanist and ftill-time recluse. Who has left the quiet of his laboratory and gardens to come to the aid of his planet. Without further ado, let me introduce to you the next President of Paraiso-Aqui ., . Sir Hector!” Screams, whistles, yells, you know the sort of thing. I waved until my arms were tired, then gave the signal for the fanfare again, while at the same time I pressed the floor button with my toe that sent a quick shot of subsonics through the floor of the stadium. This sound could not be heard, but it would produce a depressant effect on everyone present. The crowd was instantly silent, and I saw tears in more than one eye. Must remember to turn down the subsonic volume. I spoke into the waiting silence.

  “Men and women voters, welcome visitors from other worlds, I bring you news of great joy. “ I turned off the depressants and toed in the stimulants. The crowd began to smile with great joy even before they heard the news. “Within a few weeks we are going to have an election. At that time you will have a chance to vote for me for president. And why should you vote for me you might ask? Well I’ll give you one very important reason. I’m not Julio Zapilote, that’s why!” That produced a good deal of enthusiastic reaction and I took the opportunity to pour out some water-flavored gin from the carafe before me. I took a few good swallows before I carried on.

  “Vote for me and end corruption in high places. Vote for me and I’ll have the Ultimados working as swimming instructors on a shark farm. Vote-for me and see what honest government can really be like. I promise an ox in every pot, a gallon of wine in the cupboard, an abolition of all taxes, six weeks annual holiday with pay, a thirty-hour work week, retirement with full pay at the age of fifty for every registered member of the Nobles and Peasants and Workers Partyvolunteers will pass among you handing out membership forms-free bull fights every Sunday, off-track betting by licensed bookmakers, plus a few other things that I will think of soon...” My last words were drowned out by enthusiastic cheering that had no need of subsonics. If the voting were held at this moment-and the machines not rigged-1 would have received every vote. I sat down, still waving, then sipped at my restorative glass.

  “Didn’t you promise a few things you can’t deliver?” Angelina asked. I nodded.

  “No one believes election promises, particularly the politicians who make them. The purpose of the talk and this rally is just to stir up enthusiasm.” “Well you certainly have done that.” “Good. A few more speeches and we call it a day. Because we have a busy night
’s work ahead of us.” And busy indeed it was. The rally finally ended, we fought our way through the enthusiastic crowds to the cars, then moved out onto the highway with the other traffic. The return trip was happily uneventful and no sooner had we entered the hotel suite than the action began. “Are you ready boys?” I asked, tearing out great handfuls of beard in my enthusiasm to get into action.

  “We are!” they chorused.

  “Then report. “ I slipped out of my formal clothes and into my fighting gear. Bolivar read from his notes.

  “All major news items are issued by the Ministry of Information to the various media. Resident censors monitor the final copy at each newspaper and at the Broadcasting Center. Pre-recorded news goes from there to the satellites for rebroadcast on radio and television.” “How many satellites are there?” “Eighteen of them, in geostationary orbits. They blanket the planet. Their signals are either received by personal dish antennas or communal piped systems.” “That’s the news I have been waiting to hear,” I chortled as I zipped up my soft-soled shoes. “We will just have to forget the newspapers for the moment. It would be too much trouble to sabotage each and every one of them. In any case. I’m sure the broadcast media are the most popular. And vulnerable. What we need next are floorplans of the Broadcasting Center and a diagram of their technical setup. “ Bolivar handed me the first, James the second. It was almost too much. I coughed away what might have been a sob and hoped they didn’t notice the glisten in the old stainless steel rat’s eyes. What fine lads they were, how intelligent in the application of their benevolent crockery!

  “We’ve compared one to the other,” Bolivar said, flipping through the floorplans, then stabbing down his finger.

  “And are pretty sure that we have found the weak spot,” James said, finishing the sentence, a finger firmly planted on his diagram. I bent to look as they traced their way through the details.

  “These are the microwave transmitters that shoot the signals around the planet for rebroadcast to the satellites that are out of line of sight.” “And here are the two channels coming out of the program section, radio here-TV here...” “They go through these cables located in this conduit-which just happens to have an access door in the basement of the building...” “Here!” I added, stabbing down a finger and we all smiled and nodded like fools. “But this will need a sophisticated circuit interrupter that will be small and hard to spot, yet will still enable us to cut off their signals and substitute our own whenever we wish. Now where could we possibly find devices I;G,,bn,2’~ James took one from his pocket. Bolivar took out the other.

  “Boys, I’m proud of you,” I said, and I meant every word of it. The interrupters were flat cannisters, each small enough to fit on the palm of my hand, with a switch and a bundle of thin wires at one end.

  “Self-powered,” Bolivar said. “Atomic batteries. Run for years. This lead goes to an outside aerial, while these are spliced into the interior circuits. That’s all there is to it. When the correct signal is received the material that Zapilote’s technicians are sending out is cut off and whatever signal we are broadcasting will go out in its place. They will think that they are sending out their news reports-but instead they will be broadcasting ours.” .” “That’s good,” I said. “But only for a one shot. Once their broadcasts have been sabotaged they will shut down and search until they find these. We will have to go though the whole thing again when we make a second broadcast on election eve. And it will be much harder to set this thing up a second time.” James opened a box while I talked and took out two goodsized hunks of electronic apparatus. “We thought you might have that possibility in mind. So we put these together. They’re dummies, full of circuit boards and wiring, that we attach in a slightly more obvious location. They have only one function. If they are disturbed or examined in any way, a thermite device inside is actuated that will then burn them to slag.” “A neat bit of misdirection that will certainly work. Now let’s get out there and do the job so we can sleep peacefully tonight. “ “Dad, Bolivar and I can take care of this ourselves. You must be tired, .. “ “I am. Of being a politician. You wouldn’t deprive me of a chance for a little excitement, would you?” “They would if I could have my way,” Angelina said, speaking for the first time. “But I know you too well. So get out there with your delinquent children and crawl around in the sewers or whatever it is you enjoy doing. But don’t expect me to wait up for you.” I kissed her firmly for her understanding and we exited into the night. By way of the back stairs and an unmarked car. Nor were we followed. We parked a street away from Broadcasting Center, then made our way into it. I mean we didn’t exactly go through the front door, but we did penetrate without too much trouble from the alarm system. We shorted it out and entered unseen through a basement window. After that it was just a matter of Bnding the right doorway. The sub-basements were filled with fully automated machinery and empty at this time of night. There was one supervisor at his station, but he was easily avoided. The hookup was a simple one, with the dummy circuit boxes concealed by a partition, while the real bits of circuitry were put under the wire bundle and sealed into the flooring.

  “Perfect,” I said, dusting off my hands and admiring the result of our labors. “Let us now return for a refreshing drink and a look at the substitute programs that our minions are now preparing.” Getting out unseen was just as easily accomplished as had been our entrance. Our car was waiting and there was no one in sight.

  I opened the car door and the light came on.

  There was a man sitting there, pointing a large pistol at my head and smiling at the same time. Someone very disgustingly familiar.

  “So you are Hector Harapo now, and no longer a simple offworld tourist,” Captain Oliveira said, “I warned you at our last meeting not to return to this planet. Now that you have been so rash as to come back you can only blame yourself for the conseniiences.”

  Chapter 22

  As he spoke these words the street was bathed with eyesearing light. It was a trap-and well sprung. “There were searchlights on top of the buildings and troops pouring out of the doorways. All we could do was surrender.

  “Please don’t shoot!” I shouted. “We surrender. Surrender, my men, that is an order. Douchan qounboula!” I hoped that the boys would remember this repellent alien language-and they did! Although their hands were in the air, like mine, they could still actuate their smoke bomb releases by crossing their wrists-which I had just ordered them to do. The last thing I saw was the cheering sight of them vanishing in the roiling clouds that sprang up all around them.

  I buried myself aside just as Oliveira fired. The bullet whistled by so close that I felt my hair stir in the breeze of its passage. Before he could fire again I flipped one of my own smoke bombs into the car, following it instantly with a sleep capsule.

  I doubt if ten seconds had passed since the moment that I had opened the car door. In that brief time things had changed drastically. The street was filled with vision-obscuring smoke and loud with shouted orders, whistles blowing, the roar of engines and the hoarse cries of attacking men.

  “Add more smoke and mix it with sleeping gas!” I called out in the same alien language. “I’m going to start a diversion with this car-then you both make a break for it!” If I could draw all the attention to myself the boys might have a chance. I groped my way into the car, pushed Oliveira’s limp body aside, then started the engine. As I kicked it into gear I twisted the wheel away from the boys and stamped down hard on the accelerator. The car jumped forward, picking up speed, the smoke thinned-then vanished to be replaced 122 by searing light. I squinted against the glare and saw that I was about to run down a squad of terrified soldiers.

  I dragged on the wheel and missed them by centimeters, still moving at top speed, to plow headlong into an armored car.

  It made quite an impact in more ways than one. I found myself bouncing off the windshield and dropping back into the seat. My nose had taken a good knock and was bleeding ni
cely down the front of my shirt. My brains had been thumped just as well as my nose and I felt that my head was wobbling on my neck. Thinking was difficult and I had just about enough intelligence left to realize that more smoke and sleeping gas would be a good idea. I was hurling the bombs out of the window when the door to the armored car opened just before me. I threw a few smoke and gas grenades in there by reflex.

  And all the while I was holding my breath. I had stopped breathing the instant the rush of blood had washed out my nose plugs. If I took a single breath now I would be just as sound asleep as the soldiers and police. But unlike them I would probably wake up dead.

  The burning in my chest drove away the groggy sensations as I crawled out of the car on my hands and knees. As I stood up I banged my injured nose into something very hard. It took every effort of will not to gasp in a lungful of the gas-filled air. The object moved as I touched it and I realized that it was the open door of the armored car. Transportation. I climbed painfully into it, pushing aside the invisible body that was blocking the entrance. There were more slumped bodies underfoot and I had to climb over them.

  And I had to breathe. But I didn’t dare. I groped forward and slammed my head against hard metal. It took an endless period of running my fingers over it before I realized that it was the base of a seat. The driver’s seat, mounted high in the front of the car. My groping fingers found the floor-mounted gear shift. It was vibrating-the engine was still running!