The Stainless Steel Rat eBook Collection (11 page)

Now something in the judge’s voice caught my attention. He had finished his preamble at last. He cleared his throat and pointed at The Bishop.

‘Defendant will stand
for sentencing.’

All eyes were on the prisoner. He sat stolidly, unmoving. There was a growing rustle and murmur. The judge began to turn red and he hammered with his gavel.

‘I will be obeyed in this court,’ he thundered. ‘The defendant will rise or will be forced to do so. Is that understood?’

Now I was sweating. If only I could have told him not to cause any difficulties. What would I do
if he were held up by great ugly policemen? Two of them had already started forward at the judge’s signal. It was then that The Bishop slowly raised his eyes. The look of withering contempt he directed at the judge would have deterred anyone not as dense as his honour; it was a glare of repulsion that might have destroyed minor life forms.

But he was standing! The police halted as the large hands
went out and seized the solid railing. It creaked as he tugged on it and heaved his giant form up, to stand erect. His head was high as he released the rail and his arms dropped to his sides …

Now! I stabbed down on the button. The explosions were not loud – but their effect was dramatic. They severed the two bolts that held the edge of the trapdoor in place. Under the great weight of The Bishop
the door swung wide and he plunged down like a missile. I rushed up the ladder as he fell past me – but had time for a last glimpse of the courtroom on the screen.

There was silence as he vanished from sight. The springs slammed the trapdoor up into position and I pushed the heavy steel bolts into place beneath it. This had happened so fast that
the horizontal form of The Bishop was still bouncing
up and down oh the trampoline when I turned to look. I scurried down the ladder to his side as he finally came to rest, looking up at me with stolid gaze as he spoke.

‘Ah, Jim my boy. How nice to see you again.’ He took my proferred hand and I helped him down to the floor. Above us there was pandemonium, shouting and screaming that could be clearly heard through the floor. I permitted myself
one glorious look at the screen, at the pop-eyed judge, the scurrying policemen.

‘Very impressive, Jim, very,’ The Bishop said, admiring the scene on the screen as well.

‘Right!’ I ordered. ‘Look at it as you strip off your outer clothing. Very little time, explanations will follow.’

He hesitated not a millisecond but was hurling clothing from him even as the words were clearing my lips. The
great rotund form emerged, clothed in tasteful purple undergarments, and he raised his hands above his head at my shouted command. Standing on the ladder I pulled the immense dress down over him.

‘Here is the coat,’ I said. ‘Put that on next. Dress touches the ground, so don’t remove shoes. Large hat next, that’s it, mirror and lipstick while I unbolt the door.’

He did what I said without a
murmur of protest. The Bishop had vanished from sight and a lady of truly heroic proportions now emerged. There was a hammering above his head which he completely ignored.

‘Let’s go!’ I called out and he minced across the room in a most feminine fashion. I kept the door closed until he reached me and I used those few seconds to fill him in. ‘They’ll be at the cellar stairs by now – but they are
blocked. We go the other way.’ I pulled on the policeman’s helmet to go with the uniform I was wearing. ‘You are a prisoner in my custody. We are leaving – now!’

I took him by the arm and we turned left down the dusty corridor. Behind us there was much crashing and shouting from the blocked stairwell. We hurried on, to the boiler room, and through that to the set of short stairs that rose up
to the heavy exit door. With its hinges now greased and lock well oiled, it opened at a touch and we stepped out into the alleyway.

Not an arm’slength from the back of a policeman who was standing guard there. He was the only one.

It took only an instant to examine the scene. The narrow alley was open at the far end. There was a dead end behind us. People
– and safety – were in the street beyond
the police guard. Then The Bishop climbed up beside me and something grated under his foot. The policeman turned his head to look.

I could see his eyes widen – as well they might for the lady beside me was an impressive sight. I took advantage of his diverted attention to jump forward and reach out to keep his head turning even more in the same direction. He seized me in strong hands – which
quickly went limp since the Tongoese neck twist produces instant unconsciousness when the rotation reaches 46 degrees from full front. I eased him to the ground, then stopped The Bishop from striding forward with my raised palm.

‘Not that way.’

The door on the building across the alley said SERVICE ENTRANCE and was locked. It opened to my ready key. As I waved my portly companion inside I took
off my cap and threw it beside the policeman. I closed the door from the inside and dropped my uniform jacket as I did. The necktie went next as we strolled into the department store, until I was dressed simply in slacks and shirt. I put my moustache into my pocket and we joined the other customers. Occasionally looking at a display as we passed, but certainly never dawdling. There were a few amazed
looks at my companion, but this was a very proper store and no one was so rude as to stare. I went first through the exit, holding the door, then led by a few paces as we joined the passing throng. Behind us, getting weaker as we went, were shouts and cries and the sound of alarm bells and sirens. I permitted myself a small smile. When I glanced back I saw that my companion had permitted herself
one as well. She even had the nerve to let me have a brief wink. I turned back quickly – I couldn’t encourage this sort of thing – then turned the corner into the side street where the bread truck awaited.

‘Stand here and look into your mirror,’ I said, unlocking the rear door. I busied myself inside, then barely had time to move aside as a great form hurtled by.

‘No one looking …’ he gasped.

‘Perfect.’

I climbed out, secured the door, went to the driver’s side, climbed in and started the engine. The van rumbled forward, slowly forcing its way through the pedestrians at the corner, then waited for a break in the traffic.

I had considered driving back and past the court house, but that would have been dangerous braggadocio. Better to simply slip away.

When the street was empty, I
turned in the opposite direction and drove carefully towards the city limits. I knew all the back roads so we would be away well before they could be blocked.

We were not out of danger yet – but I still felt smug satisfaction. And why not! I had done it! Committed the escape of the century to save the criminal of the century. Nothing could stop us now!

I drove, slowly but steadily, for the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. Avoiding all of the major highways by staying with the secondary roads. Though my route, by necessity, had to vary in direction, I nevertheless moved steadily south. Doing my best to add real feeling and emotion to Pi-r squared. Sounds familiar? It should be since it is probably the single geometry
theorem that anyone ever remembers. The area of a circle is equal to its radius times the value of Pi – squared. So each roll of the wheels of the bread van added an ever increasing area that must be searched to find the escaping prisoner.

Four hours of this should put us well ahead of the police. The fact had to be considered as well that The Bishop had been locked in the back of the van for
all of this time and knew nothing of my plans for the future. Explanations were in order – as was some food. I was getting hungry and, considering his girth, he would surely be feeling the same. With this in mind I pulled into the next suburban shopping centre, checked the quick-food restaurants as I drove by, then parked at the far end of the lot. Backed up close to a blank wall. The Bishop blinked
benevolently when I opened the rear door admitting light and fresh air.

‘Time for lunch,’ I said. ‘Would you like …’

I lapsed into silence as he raised his hand in a gesture of silence.

‘Permit me, Jim, to say something first. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart I thank you for what you have done. I owe you my life, no less. Thank you.’

I stood with lowered eyes – I swear I was blushing
like a girl! – and twisting my toe around and around on the ground. Then I coughed and found my voice.

‘I did what had to be done. But – could we talk of this later?’ He sensed my embarrassment and nodded, a regal figure despite the absurd garb he was still wearing. I pointed to the box on which he had been sitting. ‘There are clothes in there. While you change I’ll get some food. You don’t mind
junk food from Macswineys?’

‘Mind? After the loathsome sludge of the prison food, one of their Barbecued Porcuswineburgers would be untold paradise. With a large portion of sugarfried spamyams, if you please.’

‘Coming up!’

I closed the van door with a feeling of relief and trotted off towards the beckoning platinum arches. The Bishop’s enthusiasm for fast food was most encouraging in a way
that he could not suspect yet.

Loud munching and rustling sounded from the tables on all sides as I passed and made my way up to the serving counter. I reeled off my order to the plastic-headed robotic attendant, stuffed bills into the hopper – then grabbed the bag of food and drink as it slid out of the gate.

We sat on the boxes in the back of the van and ate and drank with enthusiasm. I had
left the reardoor open a crack which gave us more than enough light. During my absence The Bishop had discarded his dress and was now wearing more masculine garb – the largest size I could find. He wolfed down half of his sandwich, nibbled a few spamyams to hold it in place, then smiled over at me.

‘Your plan of escape was pure genius, my boy. I noticed the change in the flooring when I first
sat down in the chair in the courtroom and pondered long over its significance. I hoped it was what I thought it might be, and can truthfully say that when the ground opened under my feet, so to speak, I felt a feeling of pleasure such as I had never experienced before. The sight of that despicable judge’s face disappearing from my sight is a memory I shall always treasure.’

Smiling broadly he
finished the rest of the sandwich, then wiped his lips delicately before speaking again.

‘Since I do not wish to cause you greater embarrassment with more fulsome praise, perhaps I should ask you what plans you have made to keep me safe from the hands of the law? Because, knowing you as I do now, I am secure in the belief that you have planned ahead in precise detail.’

Praise from The Bishop
was praise indeed and I basked in the warmth of it for a few moments while I worried out a bit of swinish gristle from between my teeth. ‘I have done that, thank you. The bread truck is our vehicle of invisibility for it and its brothers trundle the highways and byways of this country daily.’ For some reason I found myself sounding more and more like The Bishop when I spoke. ‘We will stay in it until
nightfall, slowly approaching our destination all of the while.’

‘And of course casual police patrols will not bother us, since the identifying numbers on this vehicle are not the ones that were on it before it came into your possession.’

‘Precisely. The theft will have been reported and local police
informed. But the search will not widen, for this vehicle will be found not far from its depot
in Billville in the morning. The new numbers, soluble in paint thinner will have been removed, the odometer turned back to show only a brief joy ride by the thieves. If a van like this were seen and noted in the distant city of Bit O’Heaven there will be nothing to connect that bread van with this one. That trail will run cold as will all the others.’

He digested this bit of information, along
with the last of the spamyams, then licked his fingers ruminatingly. ‘Capital. I could not have done better myself. Since further movement will be dangerous – the police will soon have a net over the entire country – I presume that Billville is our destination?’

‘It is. I have my establishment there. Also your place of security. When I asked about your food tastes I had that in mind. You are
going to take up residence in an automated Macswineys until the heat of the chase dies down.’

His eyebrows climbed up to his forehead and I saw him glance with some apprehension at the discarded wrappings, but he was kind enough not to speak his doubts aloud. I hurried to reassure him.

‘I have done it myself – so don’t worry. There are some slight discomforts …’

‘But none to equal that of Federal
prison! I apologise for unseemly thoughts. No offence given.’

‘Or taken. It all came about by accident one evening when the police were a little close behind me for comfort. I picked the lock on the service entrance of the local Macswineys, the very one that you will be visiting, and my pursuer lost my trail. While I waited for a safe period I examined the premises. Amazing! Operating at high
speed all around me was the solution to the single problem that faces all fast-food chains. The cost of keeping even the highly underpayed and unskilled employees. Human beings are both intelligent and greedy. They tend to become skilled, then want more money for their work. The answer is to do away with human beings completely.’

‘Admirable solution. If you are finished with your crumplumps I
just might nibble one or two while I listen to your fascinating documentary.’

I passed the greasy bag to him and went on. ‘Everything is mechanised. As the customer speaks his order the required item of food is ejected from the deep-frozen store into a super-voltage radar oven where it is instantly blasted to steamingly edible temperature. These ovens are so powerful that an entire frozen porcuswine
can be exploded into steam and greasy
particles in twelve microseconds.’

‘Amazing!’

‘Beverages are dispensed with the same lightning speed. By the time a customer has finished speaking his entire order is waiting. Behind a steel door, of course, until he has paid. The machinery is fully automatic and reliable and rarely touched by human hands. It is inspected weekly while the frozen food store
is replenished weekly as well. But not on the same day so that the vehicles don’t get in each other’s way.’