A Stainless Steel Rat Is Born

Chapter 26

He lay on the bunk, eyes closed as though he were sleeping. But never that still never. Dreng had drawn my blanket over him, up to his chin, combed his hair and cleaned his face.

"I could not move him when the attack came," Dreng said. "He was too heavy, too ill. The wound in his back was bad, black, his skin hot. He told me to leave him, that he was dead in any case. He said if they didn't kill him the 'fection would. They didn't have to stab him though..." My friend and my teacher. Murdered by these animals. He was worth more than the entire filthy population of this world gathered together. Dreng took me by the arm and I shook him off, turned on him angrily. He was holding out a small packet.

"I stole the piece of paper for him," Dreng said. "He wanted to write to you. I stole it." There was nothing to be said. I unwrapped it and a carved wooden key fell to the floor. I picked it up, then looked at the paper. There was a floor plan of the keep drawn on it, with an arrow pointing to a room carefully labled STRONGROOM. Below it was the message, and I read what was written there in a tight, clear hand.

I have been a bit poorly, so may not be able to give you this in person. Make a metal copy of the key - it opens the strongroom. Good luck, Jim, it has been my pleasure to know you. Be a good rat.

His signature was carefully written below. I read the name - then read it again. It wasn't The Bishop - or any of the other aliases he had ever used. He had left me a legacy of trust - knowing that I was probably the only person in the universe who would value this confidence. His real name.

I went and sat down outside in the sun, suddenly very weary. Dreng brought me a cup of water. I had not realized how thirsty I was; I drained it and sent him for more.

This was it, the end. He had felt the approach of darkness - but had worried about me. Thought of me when it was really his own death that was looming so close. What next? What should I do now?

Fatigue, pain, remorse - all overwhelmed me. Not realizing what was happening I fell asleep, sitting there in the sun, toppled over on my side. When I awoke it was late in the afternoon. Dreng had wadded his blanket and put it under my head, sat now at my side.

There was nothing more to be said. We put The Bishop's body on one of the little carts and wheeled it along the causeway to the shore. We were not the only ones doing this. There was a small hill beside the road, a slope of grass with trees above it, a pleasant view across the water to the keep. We buried him there, tamping the soil down solidly and leaving no marker. Not on this disgusting world. They had his body, that was enough. Any memorial I erected in his honor would be lightyears away. I would take care of that one day when the proper moment came.

"But right now, Dreng, we take care of Capo Doccia and his hoodlums. My good friend did not believe in revenge, so I cannot either. So we shall call it simple justice. Those criminals need straightening out. But how shall we do it?" "I can help, master. I can fight now. I was afraid, then I got angry and I used the ax. I am ready to be a warrior like you." I shook my head at him. I was thinking more clearly now. "This is no job for a farmer with a future. But you must always remember that you faced your fear and won. That will do you well for the rest of your life. But Jim diGriz pays his debts - so you are going back to the farm. How many groats does a farm cost?" He gaped at that one and shuffled through his memory. "I never bought a farm." "I'm sure of that. But somebody must have that you know." "Old Kvetchy came back from the wars and paid Widow Roslair two-hundred and twelve groats for her share of her farm." "Great. Allowing for inflation five-hundred should see you clear. Stick with me, kid, and you'll be wearing plowshares. Now get to the kitchen and pack up some food while I put part one of the plan into operation." It was like a chess game that you played in your head. I could see the opening moves quite clearly, all laid out. If they were played correctly, middle game and endgame would follow with an inevitable win. I made the first move.

Capo Dimonte was slumped on his throne, red-eyed and as tired as the rest of us, a flagon of wine in his hand. I pushed through his officers and stood before him. He scowled at me and flapped his hand.

"Away, soldier. You'll get your bonus. You did your work well today, I saw that. But leave us, I have plans to make..." "That is why lam here, capo. To tell you how to defeat Capo Doccia. I was in his service and know his secrets." "Speak!" "In private. Send the others away." He considered a moment - then waved his hands. They left, grumbling, and he sipped his wine until the door slammed shut.

"What do you know," he ordered. "Speak quickly for I am in a foul humor." "As are we all. What I wanted to tell you in private does not concern Doccia - yet. You will attack, I am sure of that. But in order to assure success I am going to enlist Capo Dinobli and his secrets on your side. Wouldn't the attack be more better if they were all asleep when we came over the wall." "Dinobli knows no more of these matters than I do - so don't lie to me. He is tottering and has been bedridden for a year." "I know that," I lied with conviction. "But it is those who use his keep for their own ends, who cause the Black Monks to make war on them, these are the ones who will help you." He sat up at this and there was more than a glint of the old schemer in his eyes. "Go to them then. Promise them a share of the spoils - and you will share as well if you can do this. Go in my name and promise what you will. Before this month is out Doccia's head will be roasting on a spit over my fire, his body will be torn by red-hot spikes and..." There was more like this but I wasn't too interested. This was a pawn move in the opening. I now had to bring a major piece forward to the attack. I bowed myself out, leaving him muttering on the throne, splashing wine around as he waved his arms. These people had very quick tempers.

Dreng had packed our few belongings and we left at once. I led the way until we were well clear of the keep, then turned off towards a stream that ran close by. It had a grassy field at its bank and I pointed towards it.

"We stay here until morning. I have plans to make and we need the rest. I want to be sharp when I knock on old Dinobli's door." With a night's rest to refresh my brain everything became quite clear. "Dreng," I said, "this will have to be a one-man operation. I don't know what kind of reception I will get and I maybe busy enough worrying about myself, without having you to care for. Back to the keep and wait for me." There was really no door to knock on, just two heavily armed guards at the gate. I came down through the field, past the mounds of junked machines already smeared with a red patina of rust, and crossed the drawbridge. I stopped before I reached the guards and carefully kept my gun lowered.

"I have an important message for the one in charge here." "Turn about and quick march," the taller guard said, pointing his gun at me. "Capo Dinobli sees no one." "It's not the capo I care about," I said, looking past him into the courtyard. A tall man in rough clothes was passing. But beneath the ragged cuffs of his trousers I saw the gleam of plasteel boots.

"I wish the capo only good health," I called out loudly. "So I hope that he is seeing a good gereontologist and takes his synapsilstims regularly." The guard growled in puzzlement at this - but my words were not for his edification. The man I was looking at in the courtyard stopped suddenly, still. Then slowly turned about. I saw keen blue eyes in a long face. Staring at me in silence. Then he came forward and talked to the guard, though still looking at me. "What is the disturbance?" "Nothing, your honor. Just sending this one on his way." "Let him in. I want to question him." The pointed gun was raised in salute and I marched through the gate. When we were out of earshot of the gate the tall man turned to face me, looking me up and down with frank curiosity.

"Follow me," he said. "I want to talk with you in private." He did not speak until we were in the keep and inside a room with the door closed behind us. "Who are you?" he asked.

"You know - I was about to ask you the very same question. Does the League know what you are doing here?" "Of course they do! This is a legitimate..." He caught himself, then smiled. "At least that proves you're from offplanet. No one can think that fast here - or knows what you know. Here, sit, then tell me who you are. After that I will judge how much I can tell you of our work." "Fair enough," I said, dropping into the chair and lying my gun on the floor. "My name is Jim. I was a crewman on a Venian freighter - until I got into difficulties with the captain. He dumped me on this planet. That is all there is to it." He pulled up a pad and began to make notes. "Your name is Jim. Your last name is .. ." I was silent. He scowled. "All right, let that go for the moment. What is the captain's name." "I think that I will save that information for later. After you have told me who you are." He pushed the pad aside and sat back in his chair. "I'm not satisfied. Without your identity I can tell you nothing. Where do you come from on Venia? What is the capital city of your planet, the name of the chairman of the global consul?" "It's been a long time, I forgot." "You are lying. You are no more Venian than I am. Until I know more..." "What exactly do you have to know? I am a citizen of the League, not one of the dismal natives here. I watch tri-D, eat at Macswineys - a branch on every known world, forty-two billion sold - I studied molecular electronics, and have a black Belt in Judo. Does that satisfy you?" "Perhaps. But you told me that you were dumped on this planet from a Venian freighter, which cannot be true. All unapproved contact with Spiovente is forbidden." "My contact was unapproved. The ship was smuggling in guns like this one." That got his attention all right. He grabbed the pad. "The captain's name is..." I shook my head in a silent 'no'. "You'll have that information only if you arrange to get me off this planet. You can do that because you as much as told me you were here with League approval. So let us do a little trading. You arrange for my ticket - I have plenty of silver groats to pay for it." Or I would have, which was the same thing. "You will also give me some small help in a local matter - then I'll tell you the captain's name." He didn't like this. He thought hard and wriggled on the hook, but could not get off it.

"While you are making your mind up," I said, "you might tell me who you are and what you are doing here." "You must promise not to reveal our identity to the natives. Our presence is well-known offplanet, but we can only succeed here tf our operation remains covert." "I promise, I promise. I owe nothing to any of the locals." He steepled his fingers and leaned back as though beginning a lecture. I had guessed right - as his first words revealed.

"I am Professor Lustig of the University of Ellenbogen, where I hold the chair of applied socioeconomics. I am head of my department and I must say that I founded the department, since applied socioeconomics is a fairly new discipline, an outgrowth, obviously, of theoretical socioeconomics..." I blinked rapidly to keep my eyes from glazing over and forced myself to keep listening. It was teachers like Lustig who made me run away from school.

"...years of correspondence and labor to attain our fondest ambition. Practical application of our theories. Dealing with the bureaucrats of the League was the most difficult because of the League non-intervention policy. In the end they were convinced that with the proper controls we be permitted to operate a pilot project here on Spiovente. Or as someone said with crude humor, we certainly couldn't make things worse. We keep our operation at the current level of planetary technology so it will be self-sustaining when we leave. " "What exactly are you trying to do?" I asked.

He blinked rapidly. "That should be obvious - that is the only thing I have been talking about." "You have been telling me theory, professor. Would you mind being specific about what you hope to accomplish." "If you insist, on layman's terms, we are attempting to do no less than change the very fabric of society itself. We intend to bring this planet, kicking and screaming if necessary, out of the dark ages. After the Breakdown Spiovente sank into a rather repulsive form of feudalism. More warlordism, in fact. Normally a feudalistic society performs a great service during an age of disintegration. It maintains a general framework of government as various localities protect and care for themselves." "I haven't seen much caring or protecting." "Correct. Which is why these warlords will have to go." "I'll help shoot a few." "Violence is not our way! In addition to being distasteful, it is forbidden to League members. Our aim is to bring into existence government independent of the capos. In order to do that we are encouraging the rise of a, professional class. This will bring about increased circulation of money and the end of barter. With increased funds the government will be able to institute taxation to purchase public services. To reinforce this a judiciary will need to be formed. This will encourage communication, centralization, and the growth of common ideas." Sounded great-although I wasn't wild about the taxes bit, or the judiciary. Still, anything would be better than the capos.

"That all sounds fine in theory," I said. "But how do you put it into practice?" "By providing better services at a lower price. Which is why the Black Monks tried to attack us. They are no more religious than my hat - the order is just a front for their monopoly of technology. We are breaking that monopoly and they don't like it." "Very good. Yours sounds a fine plan and I wish you the best of luck. But I have a few things to do myself before I leave this sinkhole. To help you in your task of breaking the technological monopoly I would like to purchase some of your sleeping gas." "Impossible. In fact it is impossible for us to aid you in any way. Nor are you leaving here. I've signalled for the guards. You will be held until the next League ship arrives. You know far too much about our operation to be permitted your freedom."