The Stainless Steel Rat eBook Collection (81 page)

So the artifact might have been stolen, might still be around. I could help look for it. But I could also stop counting the days. Earlier, when I had been woken up by my computer, it had been flashing a glowing seven for my benefit. Now Admiral Steengo had relieved me of this chronic worry.

But I had taken three million for this job—and I still wondered what the thing really
was. So the artifact-chase would continue. Minus the pressure of the days. I looked around at my musical rats and realized that nothing had changed for them. The search for the artifact was still on. Well—why not?

“What do we do next?” I said. Steengo, now more of an admiral than a musician, toted up the possible options.

“Was the explosion an accident? If it wasn’t—who caused it? There are
really a lot of questions that must be asked …”

“Mata told me to tell you that you were to ask Aida if you had any questions,” Madonette said brightly.

We considered this seriously for a moment, then realized we hadn’t the slightest idea of what she was talking about. Still the admiral, Steengo spoke for all of us.

“Who is Aida?”

“Not who—but what. An acronym for Artificially Intelligent Data
Assembler. I think that it is the central computer here. In any case, here is the access terminal.”

She put what looked like an ordinary portaphone on the table and switched it on. Nothing happened.

“Are you there, Aida?” Madonette said.

“Ready to be summoned at
any
time, darling,” the voice said. In a rich and sexy contralto.

“I thought you said computer?” was my baffled response.

“Do I
hear a male voice?” Aida said. Then giggled. “It has been such a
very
long time! Might I ask your name, sweetie?”

“Jim—not sweetie. And why did you call me
that?
”

“Training and programming, dear boy. Before this present assignment I ran an exploration spacer. Male crew,
endless
years in space. It was felt by my creators that a female voice and presence would be more efficacious morale-wise than
a machine or masculine presence.”

“The last exploration spacer was junked centuries ago,” Steengo said.

“A lady does
not
like to be reminded of her age,” Aida said huskily. “But it is true. When my ship was sent to the breakers I was made redundant. Since I am basically a computer program I am—every woman’s dream—eternal. I had, shall we say, a rather varied career before I ended up here. Mind
you, I’m not complaining. I find this
such
a pleasant occupation. There are charming ladies to talk to, as well as additional memory banks and databases to access whenever I wish to. Most pleasurable—but I do chatter on. I have been
informed that you have a problem. If you would identify yourselves by name it would make conversation that much easier. Jim and Madonette I know. The name of the gentleman
who just spoke?”

“Admiral—” Steengo said, then broke off.

“Let us
do
keep it on a first-name basis. And your first name is Admiral. Others?”

“Floyd,” said Floyd.

“And a great pleasure to meet you all. How may I help?”

“An item, referred to as the artifact, was recently brought to the science building. Do you know about it?”

“Indeed I do. I was studying it, so am therefore quite familiar
with the strange construction. In fact I had it under observation at the time of the explosion.”

“Did you see what happened to it?”

“Taking the literal meaning of
see,
dear Jim, forces me to answer that question in the negative. I had no photo pickups operating at the time so I did not physically see what happened to it. The only information I had was the direction that it left in. That was
thirty-two degrees to the right of the zero north-polar latitude.”

“There is nothing at all out there in that direction,” Steengo said. “No settlements, no nomadic tribes. Nothing but empty plains right up the polar cap. How do you know that the artifact was taken that way?”

“I know that,
mon Amiral,
because this artifact emits tachyons and I was observing it with a tachyometer. Keeping count,
so to speak, and most interesting it was too. It did not emit many—after all,
what
source does?—but a few are much better than none. Let the record show that it emitted one tachyon, from the direction I have given you, just microseconds before the explosion that destroyed the equipment I was using.”

“You weren’t—injured?” Madonette said.

“How sweet of you to ask! I wasn’t, because I wasn’t there.
As soon as I could I constructed a new tachyometer, conveyed it to the site of the explosion with, unhappily, no results. Now there is just background radiation.”

“Do you know what caused the explosion?”

“Welcome to this easy give-and-take of social intercourse, friend Floyd. To answer your question—I do. It was a very powerful explosive. I can give you the chemical formula but I am sure that
you would find that immensely boring. But I can tell you that this explosive was manufactured quite widely for the mining industry at one time. It is named ausbrechitite.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Understandable, Admiral, since it was found to grow unstable with the passage of time. Manufacturing was phased out and ausbrechitite was replaced by newer and more stable explosives.”

“When was this?”
I asked.

“A bit over three centuries ago. Would you like the exact date?”

“That will do fine.”

We blinked at each other in silence. Not knowing what to do with this weird historical-scientific evidence. Only Madonette had the brains to ask the right question.

“Aida—do you have any theories about what happened?”

“Simply
thousands
my dear. But there is no point in telling you about them until
I gather some more evidence. Right now you might say that we are in the early moves of a chess game with millions of possibilities for the rest of the game. But I can give you some figures. Chances of an accidental explosion; zero. Chances that the explosion was tied in with the theft; sixty-seven percent. What happens next depends upon you.”

“How?”

“Consider reality. You are mobile,
cher
Jim
while I am, so to speak, tied down to the job. I can give advice, and accompany
you in transceiver form when you leave here. But what happens next—that decision is up to you.”

“What decision?” Aida could be exasperating at times.

“I will supply a new tachyometer. If you take it in the direction I have indicated you might be able to track the artifact in this manner.”

“Thanks,” I said and reached
out and turned Aida off. “Looks like us humans have to come to a decision. Who follows the trail? Let us not all speak at once but let me speak first because I am top rat. I have the feeling that it is now time to thin our ranks. I say that Madonette does not go any further. We needed her for the music—and wonderful she was too!—but not for crawling around looking for nutcases planting century-old
bombs.”

“I second Jim’s motion,” Admiral Steengo said.

“I third it,” Floyd said quickly as Madonette tried to speak. “This is really not your kind of job. Nor is it Steengo’s either.”

“Isn’t that for me to decide?” Steengo snarled in his best admiralish mode.

“No,” I suggested. “If you wish to be of assistance, you can really help us by organizing the base operation from here. I declare that
the motion has been seconded and passed above all objections. This is only a democracy when it suits me.”

Steengo smiled and the admiral’s scowl vanished; he was too smart to argue. “I agree. I am well past my sell-by date for fieldwork. My aching bones tell me that. Please, Madonette, give in graciously to the thrust of history. Are you nodding—albeit reluctantly? Good. Above and beyond any
aid given by Aida, I will see to it that the Special Corps will supply any equipment needed. Questions?” He glowered around in a circle but we were silent. He nodded with satisfaction and Madonette raised her hand.

“With that decision out of the way—may I pass on a request?
In conversation I have discovered that everyone here is a true musical Rat fan so …”

“Could we do one last gig before the
group breaks up? You betcha. All in agreement.”

There was a rousing cheer from all except Steengo who looked unhappy at the thought of all of his instruments reduced to a pile of particles. But Madonette, ever resourceful, had done a bit of work before she mentioned the gig.

“I’ve asked around among the girls. They tell me that there is a really nice chamber group here, as well as a symphony
orchestra—they must have at least one instrument Steengo can play.”

“Any of them, all of them—just unleash me!” he said and now it was smiles and cheers all around.

Due to the miracles of modern medicines, curing and healing drugs, pain-killers and a large shot of booze for Steengo, we were ready to do our performance later this same day. A matinee, since night here was still a couple of our
days away and not worth waiting for.

There was quite a turnout at the sports stadium. Cheers and shouts of joy greeted us and no one seemed to mind that Steengo was not only out of costume but playing from a wheelchair. If this was to be the last curtain for The Stainless Steel Rats we meant to make it a performance to remember. Leaving the more militaristic and macho songs aside for the moment
we launched into a mellow blues number.

We did many an encore this day. Finished finally with the feeling of exhaustion and happiness that only comes with an artistic job well done. Sleep came easily but, unable to resist, I took one last peek at the days remaining before closing my eyes.

Still seven. Still a week. Plenty of time for my good buddy Admiral Steengo
to kick butt and come up with the antidote. I think I was smiling when I closed my eyes which, when you think about it, was quite a change from the preceding twenty-seven days. Yes it was.

Then why wasn’t I going to sleep? Instead of lying there tensely staring into the darkness. An easy answer.

Until the happy moment when I pulled back the plunger and shot up with the antidote I had only seven
days to live.

Nighty-night, Jim. Sleep well …

E
ither I was a slugabed or the admiral, released from his role as a musician, was a workaholic. Or both. Because by the time I had appeared he had single-handedly organized our expedition down to the last detail. He was muttering over the heap of apparatus as he punched the checklist into his handheld. He glanced up, waved vaguely, then finished off the last items.

“This is your new
backpack. It contains a number of items you will probably need—and here’s a printout of what’s inside it. I assume that you have a good deal of illegal and possibly deadly items in your old pack which you can transfer after I leave. Aida is assembling another tachyometer and I’m going to get it now. Floyd will join you shortly—and here is Madonette, welcome, welcome.”

Steengo made as graceful
an exit as he could on crutches. Madonette, a picture of good cheer, swept in and took both of my hands in hers. Then discovered that this wasn’t an enthusiastic enough greeting so she kissed me warmly on my cheek. My arms embraced her in automatic response, but closed on empty air since she had already whirled away and dropped onto the couch.

“I wish that I were coming with you, Jim—but I know
that it’s impossible. Still, I’m not looking forward to getting back to the stuffy old office.”

“I’m going to miss you,” I said. Meaning it to be a calm
statement but listening to myself in horror as it came out all dewy-eyed and smarmy. “All of us will miss you, of course.”

“Same here. There were some hairy moments—but you took care of everything, didn’t you?” The warmth and appreciation were
such that I could feel myself blushing. “All in all I think it was an experience of a lifetime. And I am definitely not going back to all those files and staff meetings and sealed windows. It’s field work from now on. Out in the fresh air! Isn’t that a good idea?”

“Wonderful, yes indeed,” I said, missing her already. I don’t know where all this might have ended if Floyd hadn’t made a disgustingly
cheerful entrance.

“Morning all. Good day for the expedition. Hi and unhappily good-by Madonette, companion of many an adventure. It has been fun working with you.”

“Could you teach me unarmed defense?”

“My pleasure. Easy enough if you work at it.”

“Then I could train to be a field agent?”

“Probably not. But I’ll sure look into it.”

“Would you! I’d be ever grateful. I was telling Jim that
I don’t want to work in an office anymore.”

“Nor should you! A girl with your talents can find much better occupation.”

They smiled at each other from opposite ends of the couch, knees almost touching, wrapped up in each other. I was forgotten. I hated Floyd’s guts. Was more than happy to hear the thud of crutches and the dragging footsteps approaching.

“All here,” Steengo said. “Very good.
The tachyometer is ready.”

The thing that was following him now trotted forward. Walking, stiff-legged, was the ugliest fake dog that I had ever seen in my life. It was covered in black artificial fur with hand-fuls missing, had beady black eyes like buttons, stuck out a dry red tongue as it barked.