The Stainless Steel Rat Joins the Circus

Chapter 11

I had to work very hard during the evening performance to put all the disquieting events of the day out of my head. I succeeded—but it was not easy. Still the audience liked it, so I had not done too badly. We cleaned off the makeup, changed, and caught a cab back to our hotel. The message light in the room was blinking so I touched the button for the voice mail recording.

"Hi folks James here. I hope that all is fine with you. I've got my tickets and I'm on my way. I couldn't get a direct flight to Fetorr so I'm not sure when I will get there. But my spacer leaves in a few minutes, bound for Helior. And I'm bringing a new and much improved computer with me. I'll let you know my ETA as soon as I get it. "

"The reinforcements are on their way," I said as I reached for the booze bottle. And stopped. Things were getting very complicated and I did not need to complicate them even more with a thick head. I had a small dry sherry and a cigar instead. Gloriana rattled her quills enticingly, so I reached down and scratched her behind the ears. I felt a sense of impending doom and I did not like it. Angelina must have seen my expression because she sat on the couch next to me and took my hand.

"You are looking pretty grim, dear husband. Want to tell me about it?"

I gave her a hand an appreciative squeeze and polished off the sherry.

"If I look grim it is because I feel grim. I am possessed by the feeling that events are out of my control. When, as you know, I am used to being in charge of things, being in control of my own destiny at all times. That is not happening now. Just look at the disasters and near-misses that have occurred since we arrived on this depressing planet. First Kaia's bank is robbed and Bolivar is charged with the crime. Admittedly we did spring him from the hoosegow-but now he has to hide out in the freak show until James gets here. Then the second bank heist, on a bank we know that Chaise secretly owns-with a planted stainless steel rat left at the scene of the crime. Next the police are investigating me and have pinched every bit of my almost-legal identification. All in all the back of my neck feels quite warm and I am sure that it is from hot breath. So I ask myself. Is all this aggro worth a measly four million credits a day?"

"And what does myself tell you?"

"It tells me to cut and run."

"Will you?"

"You betcha. There are a lot of other ways to earn money-both legal and illegal. I would feel a lot better if we pursued some of the other possibilities rather than having ourselves in hock to Chaise."

"Shall I pack the bags?"

I shook my head no.

"Not until after tomorrow's matinee. In the midst of all this rushing about I have come up with one solid fact. Puissanto, the suspect we have come here to investigate, is not as simple as he pretends to be. I want to find out who or what he is. When he is onstage tomorrow I'll be tapping into his computer.

As soon as I know that, we get offplanet—and take Bolivar with us."

"Two things that bother me about this. The police have your papers-and Bolivar has none at all, as well as being a . refugee from the local disgusting form of justice."

"You are speaking to the master forger himself. Not a problem. I'll get new papers done in the morning for both of us. And the second thing?"

"Do we leave James here to carry the can after we are gone?"

"No way!" I poured another sherry, downed it in a gulp. "With our new and accelerated schedule we may be gone before he arrives. If we forget the complicated plan of him theoretically taking his brother's place in the bank-why then there is no reason for him to come here at all. We stop him before he gets here. I am afraid that the fourmillion-credit-a day job is turning into a nightmare. What did he say his first stop was?"

"Helior."

I grabbed up the phone. "I'm going to get a message to him to stay there until we arrive. There are enough people in the soup now without adding another one."

"I couldn't agree more." A bubbly porcine snore sounded from the direction of Gloriana's basket. "Let us emulate that dear creature and get a good night's sleep. I think we are going to need it."

We did. And after breakfast next morning Angelina went off with a purse filled with cash to find a crooked travel agent. Or is that an oxymoron? I used some of the portable radio's hidden talents to fake up our identification documents. I had prepared the ones that we had used to reach this planet; it was easy enough to alter the standard forms to effect a safe exit. I was finishing this task when Angelina returned and waved a thick envelope in the air.

"Done. The most time-consuming part of it was fighting off all the types who found me attractive. Six of them are sleeping peacefully but one, I'm afraid, is in the hospital."

"I am sure that he deserves to be there."

"You don't know how right you are. A bent taxi driver took me to a bar where he assured me the local mafia hung out. He was right. The one in the hospital is the ex-bodyguard of the local capo. He was so impressed that he offered me the bodyguard's job. It is nice to be appreciated. When I assured him that I was not a police spy, and that my fondest ambition was to shake the soot of this planet off my shoes, he contacted associates who specialize in the transport business."

"Transporting what?"

"I hesitate to think. But in the end a deal was done. There are three tickets here on the midnight hovertrain to Mtumwaport. An industrial city known for its pollution and high death rate."

"Wonderful! And why are we visiting this holiday city?"

"Because it is right beside the industrial spaceport for that area. And we are listed as crewmembers on a steel freighter that leaves the following day."

"Sounds a winner. Our jobs?"

"I'm an assistant cook. You and Bolivar are engine-room artificers."

"Will we have to work our way to the stars?"

"Not after I have given the captain the second half of his bribe."

We packed a single bag each; everything else would be left behind. Gloriana watched all this with close attention, then made an interrogatory grunt. Angelina frowned.

"Do we take her with us?" she asked.

"When they discover that we are missing-why a couple traveling with a porcuswine would be, how should I phrase it, pretty memorable."

"You are right, of course. But if leave her here, why her fate is pretty certain."

It certainly was. I looked down at this endearing creature and saw in my mind's eye a vision of a side of bacon.

We will put the decision off until later," Angelina said.

"No-we cannot! Call a pet supply, get a dog carrier. We'll put her in that, take her with us. We cannot leave her behind."

We reached the Colosseo early. I was dressed for my performance and waiting in the wings when Puissanto started his act. I had timed him at exactly thirty-one minutes. Now I started my stopwatch and walked quickly to his dressing room. Once I had locked myself inside I took the documentation from my pocket and turned on his computer. It was a cheap production model with a security code that was very easy to bypass. Within ten minutes I was in. I put the stopwatch where I could see it and went surfing through the files. Mostly spreadsheets and financial returns. There were some mighty large sums being processed here-but no clue how our strongman had anything to do with all this.

Ten minutes to go. I sweated as I scrolled through another directory, it was time to get out of here. I felt the cool air on my neck.

Cool air!

I spun about and there was Puissanto standing in the open doorway. Terrifying little red eyes gleaming. Closing the door behind him.

This was a nightmare come true. Locked in a room with this monster.

"Kill," he said simply and reached out for me.

Covered with chunky muscle, he wasn't very fast on his feet. But then again the dressing room wasn't that big. There was a single window-but it was covered by thick bars. I jumped back, sprang onto the trunk-then did a diving roll over his head when his clasping fingers reached out for me. Hit the door with my picklock ready. Had it open-

When a hand as big as a ham slammed it shut. Cruel fingers closed on my neck. Lifted me into the air, shook me like a used rag. I choked and couldn't speak since my larynx was being slowly crushed. Then he dropped me. Put a heavy foot on my chest as I gasped in air. Bite steel rods in two, I remembered. Head through a brick wall.

"I can explain…" I finally choked.

"Tell."

"I am not what I seem …"

"Police spy!" The foot pressed down and I waited for the snapping crack of broken ribs.

"Never! I'm a … special investigator!"

"Who pay you?"

This was no time for lies or evasions.

"A banker! A very rich banker by the name of Imperetrix Von Kaiser-Czarski …"

"You lie!"

The pressure increased and darkness descended. At a great distance I heard a cracked voice saying "no" over and over again. Was that me?

Then the pressure ceased. A mighty hand lifted me and dropped me into the armchair. Vision slowly returned to reveal the monster sitting quietly before me. It spoke.

"The time has now arrived for you to be more truthful in your revelations, oh not so mighty Marvell. I have an undetectable detector concealed in this room. So I knew someone had been in here during my absence. Therefore I abbreviated my act today in order to see if the same mysterious invader might return."

"You suddenly talk a lot better."

"I do. And if you give me the wrong answers no one will ever hear about it from you."

The temperature in the room went down ten degrees. He smiled.

"Now that we understand each other, feel free to tell me all about your presence here."

I told him. Everything. Except of course any details of my career before being employed by Chaise. An interstellar private eye, that's who I was. He nodded and listened, steepling his fingers before him as he took it all in. When I had finished he appeared to stop and consider what I had told him-then nodded again.

"That is a preposterous story, Jim. Thousands might not believe it-but I do. Because in my investigative capacity on this planet I have also come across traces and trails of your employer. There are a lot of crooked business practices going on this planet. As far as I can determine, with really only a superficial examination, your associate Chaise is one of the most reprehensible. I have uncovered these facts in the course of my investigations. You see I am really a git."

"Never! I'll challenge anyone who calls you that! You are not a git."

"Not git—GIT!" he said with anger in his eyes. I shrank away. "That is a Galactic Inspector of Texas."

"A tax man!" Not in my wildest dream.

"I am. It is a profession much needed in these tax-evading societies. Without law and taxes we would have interstellar anarchy. And this planet, Fetorr, is home to some heroically greedy tax evaders. And high on my list of suspects is your employer."

I still found it hard to believe. "A tax man … no one would ever suspect."

"No they wouldn't. I have what might very well be called a perfect disguise. That of a simple-minded muscle-man. Bit of fun too, I must say. I was really tired of teaching at the university. Even though I had my own department of Fiduciary Intransigence. But when I began to get reports of the tax goings-on here on Fetorr I volunteered for the present assignment. My natural assets, of course."

"Natural assets?" I was beginning to feel that I was missing some vital facts.

"That is correct. You must have heard of my home planet, Trantor?"

"Sorry-there are thousands of inhabited worlds out there."

"Yes-but there is only one with the mass of Trantor. A little over three times the standard as expressed in planetary gravity. 3Gs in fact."

"No wonder you can do what you do!"

"I feel light as a feather on your tiny worlds. I dream that I am floating at times. But to more important things. The man you informally refer to as Chaise is an interstellar banker of great renown. And suspicion…"

He broke off when there was a sharp rap on the door.

"Locked. Go away," he growled in his Puissanto personality.

"I want to contact the Mighty Marvell," a muffled voice said. "Do you know…"

"No know! Go!" he roared.

The sharp rapping came again. Puissanto picked me up by the throat so I could not speak, held me out at arm's length behind the door when he opened it.

"Umph!" he said. "Who you?"

"Me Megalith Man," a grating voice said. "Need to find Mighty Marvell."

I struggled and writhed and managed to squeeze out a few words.

"Let-in-it's OK…"

I dropped when he opened his hand. Megalith Man came in and looked down at me where I sprawled on the floor.

"Are you alright, Dad?" he asked.

Puissanto closed the door and looked from me to Megalith Man. "If this is your son, then you have some really crunched recessive genes in your lineage," he said.

"A working costume," Bolivar said, talking off Megalith Man's head. "There is big trouble coming down the pike. Mom was worried when Puissanto here cut his act short. Told me to get to this dressing room-but didn't have time to tell me why because that's when the trouble started. The rest of the program has been canceled and the theater is filled with uniforms. I saw three of them going into your dressing room. The theater entrances are sealed except for one, and they are searching and checking the audience as they leave."

"Do you have any idea why?" Puissanto asked.

"There's no secret about it." He looked at me with a most unhappy expression. "They have pictures of you. And are asking everyone if they have ever heard of the Stainless Steel Rat."