The Stainless Steel Rat's Revenge

by Harry Harrison

  "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 Otrov 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 the 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 lockpick 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 lockpick 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 curies 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, realizing that my thoughts still hadn't a firm grip on reality, and let myself be led to a room where there was a very enticing army cot. I dropped onto it.

  "Clothes," I said, "and drink, and not necessarily in that order." I tucked a corner of the blanket coyly over me. Not out of shame, rather that these alert amazons should not be subject to temptation. And besides, my wife was
there. She knew very well what I meant by drink and pushed aside the glass of water one of the ladies was trying to force on me and passed over a small flask of potent brew. It burned sweetly down my throat and sent tendrils of fire into my brain.

  "I'm afraid my thoughts . . . my sense of reality is still a little confused," I admitted, and from the look on Angelina's face I knew that she was already aware of it. "They did something to me, don't know what, but it'll wear off soon I'm sure."

  "I'll kill them, every one, terribly," Angelina said through tight clenched teeth and there was a murmur of agreement from all the listeners. I closed my eyes for a moment to rest them and when I opened them again the room was empty except for Angelina; a light had been lit and the window was dark. It was like a spliced break in a film with a chunk left out. I respected Kraj's mental diddling techniques and roundly loathed him for it.

  "Hungry," I told Angelina and she came over and sat by me and held my hand.

  "You've been asleep--and talking. Some awfully strange things."

  "I feel better for it. When we get back to base I'll have the medics vacuum out all the dark corners. But there are more important things for the present. We have to organize the resistance here before the Cliaand get a tight grip on everything. And . . ."

  "No."

  "What do you mean no?"

  I had the feeling that I had missed some important part of the conversation. Was this more results of the brain fiddling--or just female conversation?

  "I mean no, we won't do that. While you were sleeping I sent a long report to Inskipp, everything you told me about the Cliaand plans and how they work their invasions and how they are out to get the Corps, everything."

  "Did you at least sign my name?" I asked, petulantly.

  She patted my hand. "Of course, darling. It was your work and I wouldn't think of trying to get credit for it."

  I was filled with instant regret for speaking like that, and apologized, then she apologized because my ill temper probably had to do with the brain business, and we had a drink and that was settled and I tried to get back to the business at hand.

  "So you sent the report. And then--?"

  "Then it went to a relay ship on the other side of this sun and was sent out as a psi gram to Inskipp. His answer came in and he said 'message received, congratulations, return at once.' So you see you will have to go back."

  I snorted through my nose, then sipped my drink.

  "Do you think I'll go back?"

  "You're not well, you need medical attention, you've done what you came to do--"

  "That's not what I asked. Do you think I'll go back now?"

  Angelina tried to look fierce, which she cannot do unless she really means it--then shrugged her shoulders in a very resigned way.

  "Of course not. If you did you would not be the man I married. So now we wipe out these fiends and save Burada and stop the invasions."

  "Not quite all at once, but that is sort of what I had in mind. A resistance movement will have to be organized, with our advice and material help Taze should be able to handle that, but there is one thing that takes priority over even that. We must capture Kraj or one of IBS gray men."

  "What a wonderful idea! If they think they know about torture they will soon learn a thing or two. I remember . . ."

  "Angelina! That is not what I had in mind. For a moment there a lot of the old reconstructed you was shining through."

  "Nonsense. I admit I could use one or two techniques I learned in those days, but my motives are the purest. Lioness defending her mate and that sort of thing. Perfectly justified."

  "Yes, that might be so, but it is not quite what I was talking about. I want one of those gray men in a laboratory and I want exhaustive tests run on him. When you were beating up on that bunch earlier today did you notice anything strange about them?"

  "Nothing particular, I was otherwise occupied you might say. Just the fact that they weren't wearing enough clothing or something, because their skins felt so chill."

  "Exactly so. And they never laugh or show emotion, they don't gossip or talk unless there is something important to say, and have a number of other little traits that draw the attention."

  "Just what are you trying to say, darling, that they are zombies or robots or something? I thought that sort of thing appeared only on space operas for the kiddies."

  "Laugh now, while there is still time. Not robots or such, these types are alive enough. I just don't think that they are human, that's all. There are aliens among us."

  "Perhaps you better have some more sleep. I'll turn down the light."

  "Don't humor me, damn it! I have been thinking about this ever since I first met Kraj, so it is no figment of a recently tortured mind. There is all sort of evidence. The Cliaand soldiers are deathly afraid of Kraj and his thugs and won't even talk about them. The gray men are cut off from normal Cliaandian life and different in every way from them. Almost as though they were not the same people. I can visualize these gray men doing a survey of the human planets and finding Cliaand just ripe for their picking. A stratified, militarized way of life with everyone in uniform. All they had to do was take over at the top and they would be in control. And this they seem to have done. They appear in none of the tables of organization or charts so dear to the military mind--yet they seem to be running things most of the time."

  "Well..."

  "There. You're not convinced but you are beginning to doubt. Then you'll help me get a specimen gray man?"

  "Help?" She clapped her hands with sheer girlish enthusiasm. "I'm simply looking forward to it. Of course he might get a little damaged while I'm bringing him in, but as long as he still works that is really all that matters, isn't it?"

  Before I could answer Taze ran in and threw an armload of clothing onto the bed.

  "Get dressed, quickly," she ordered. "The boots are the biggest we could find and I hope they fit." "Is there any reason for all this-rush?" I asked.

  "There certainly is. There are troops and heavy weapons on all sides. This building is completely surrounded by the enemy."

  Chapter 16

  The boot was tight and delicately pointed, but I squeezed my foot in as fast as I could. "Were we followed here?" I asked Taze.

  "No--of course not. I am no beginner at this business. Nor is the stolen car here any longer."

  I cudgeled my sluggish brain into thought while I struggled with the second boot. The telephone rang and I froze--as did the two women--staring at it like a poison snake. It rang just once more then the tiny inset screen lit up and Kraj stared out of it, as emotionless as ever.

  "You know that you are surrounded," he said. "Resistance is useless, diGriz. Surrender quietly and none of your friends will be hurt..."

  My boot hit the screen and Kraj's image flared and died; I ripped the entire instrument out by the roots and buried it against the wall. A fine cold sweat dotted my skin. I knew that most phones can be turned on from central with the right equipment, but this was a bad time to see the theory proven.

  "Don't panic!" I shouted, mostly to myself I imagine, because Angelina and Taze were perfectly calm. I hopped about the room getting on the other boot and tried to jar some clear thought into my tangled brain. The last hop ended me up sitting on the cot, panting, counting off on my fingers.

  "Let us forget that call for a moment and figure out what is happening. One, we were not followed when we came here. Two, our transportation is gone so that could not be traced. Three, Kraj knew that I was here, which means they may have planted a directional radio transponder in me. In which case the services of a surgeon and a good x-ray machine will be needed as soon as we get out of here."

  "You are forgetting a simpler explanation," Angelina said.

  "Don't keep it a secret. If you can think better than I can--which is no compliment right now--let's have it."

  "The torture box. You said it was radio controlled."

  "Of course! A directional apparatus is probably an int
egral part of the mechanism. Is the thing still here, Taze?"

  "Yes, below. We thought there might be a use for it."

  "There is now. When we leave the box stays here. Maybe this will keep their attention on the building--and once away they won't find me this easily again. Now brief me, Taze, what kind of a building is this--and how do we get out of it?"

  "It is a factory, owned by one of our members. And there is no possible way out, we are doomed to fight and die, but when we do we will sell our lives well and take many of those swine-pig-dogs with us . . ."

  "That's fine, yes indeed. But we'll sell our lives dearly only if we have to. DiGriz can find escape routes where others only despair. Is your factory owner here? Good, send her up as quickly as possible."

  Taze left on a run and I turned to my wife.

  "I assume you brought the usual equipment with you? The sort of thing we had on our honeymoon."

  "Bombs, grenades, explosives, gas charges, of course."

  "Good girl. With you for a wife I have a growing sense of security."

  Taze ran back in followed by another uniformed amazon. A little older perhaps, with a very attractive touch of gray to her hair, yet full-bosomed and round-limbed in a maturely fascinating way . . . I caught the cold look frosting in Angelina's eyes and quickly put my thoughts on more pressing matters.

  "I am James diGriz, interstellar agent and spy."

  "Fayda Firtina of the Guard," she barked and snapped a salute.

  "Yes, very good Fayda, glad to meet you. At ease. I understand that you own this building."

  "That is correct. Firtina Amalgamated (construction) Robutlers, Limited. The finest product on the market."

  "What is?"

  "Robutlers."

  "You wouldn't think me dense if I asked what a robutler is?"

  "A luxury product that is a necessity for the proper home. A robot that is programmed, trained, articulated and specially designed for but a single function. A butler, a servant, a willing aid around the house that makes the house a home, relieving the lady of the establishment of the chores and cares and stresses of modern living . . ."