Harry Harrison - SSR 10 - The Stainless Steel Rat Joins the

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CHAPTER 1
"I'm exhausted,' Angelina said. "All this hammering away on a hot computer keyboard."
"Productive hammering, my love," I said, pushing away my own keyboard, yawning and stretching until my joints cracked.
"In a little under two hours we have made more than two hundred thousand credits through insider dealing in the stock
exchange. Some might believe it illegal-but very profitable. I prefer to see it as a public service. To keep the money circulating,
to lower the level of unemployment. . ."
"Not now, Jim. I am too tired to listen."
"But not too tired to listen to this. Right now we need a complete change. What do you say to a picnic in a leafy dell in
Sharwood Forest? With champagne."
"A lovely idea, but the shopping. . ."
"Has been already done. I have a complete picnic, basket and all, in the stasis freezer. Everything from caviar to Roc's eggs.
We have but to sling it into the hoverfloat, along with plenty of bubbly drink, and let joy begin."
And so it did. While Angelina slipped into something picnicky, I slipped the picnic hamper into the hoverfloat-humming
happily as I did so for we had been working too hard of late. We must escape the daily grind. A change of scenery. In the
nearby forest, which was one of the few green spots on the painfully boring planet of Usti nad Labam. The landscape was all
dark satanic techno-factories run by computer nerds. It was a pleasure to rob them. Using the most advanced hacking
techniques I had slipped some software into the operating system of a prominent broker. With this I could slow their input of
information by varying lengths of time. With this advance knowledge I could buy before a price rise-then sell at the higher
price. Neat.
A favor to them really, because when the scam was eventually discovered, I truly believe that the resultant news stories and
jolly police chases would give them something to think about for a change. Instead of the incessant RAM, ROM, PROM. In
our own way Angelina and I were benefactors, bringing joy into otherwise boring lives. The price was a small one for them.
Infinitesimal. Angelina joined me and we were up, up and away.
The engine roared forcefully, the air rushed by swiftly, and we held hands compassionately as our transport of delight soared
skyward.
"Wonderful," Angelina breathed.
"Merda, " I growled as a police warning bleeped and blinked on the console. There it was-a police cruiser swooping
towards us. I stamped hard on the power.
"Please don't," Angelina said, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "Let us not spoil the day with a sizzling chase. Could
we just stop, smile at the police? Not you, me. All you have to do is pay the fine. I will charm the police, you pay their fine,
and we will then go on."
It made sense. There was no point in spoiling our day out before it really started. I sighed dramatically and, with great
reluctance, eased off.
Our speed dropped.
The police cruiser fired its nose guns at us.
Things happened very quickly after that.
I hit overdrive and pulled back hard into an inside loop. The police missed: I didn't. I blew the cruiser's tail off. Then I
banked hard to avoid the hosing slugs from his wingman. As the police vehicle swooped by I saw that it had no windows.
Therefore no occupants.
"Robot policemen!" I chortled. "Therefore we don't have to hold back and spare their lives. Because they have no
lives! To the junkyard with the lot!"
After that it was Old Home Week in the diGriz partnership. I climbed-then did a 5G dive to get away from the flock
of police cruisers that had appeared all too suddenly. Hit the reverse drive when they were all on my tail. Angelina worked the
armament and defenses as they zipped by and managed to get three of them. Even on the most peaceful planet I go not
unarmed into the sky; our peaceful hoverfloat was a lot more deadly than it looked.
But this chase was beginning to turn nasty. We were vastly outnumbered and outgunned. "And running out of ammo,"
Angelina said, echoing my own thoughts.
"Change of venue!" I shouted, dropping towards the green forest below. "Grab the survival kit and get ready for a
bumpy landing."
I screeched low over a rock-tipped ridge, dived into the valley beyond-and braked to a hover under the trees below.
Angelina had the door open as we juddered to a stop, the kit thrown out, and was diving right out behind it when I hit the
twosecond-delay button. I was cutting it a little too close: the doorframe hit my bootheel as I went out. I changed the dive into
a roll, hit the ground hard on my shoulders and thudded to a stop, all of the air knocked out of me.
"My hero," my dear wife said, patting my cheek and kissing my forehead. "Now let's move it."
We did. Grabbing up the kit, she gracefully, and I haltingly, dived into the protection of the shrubbery.
Meanwhile above the trees the battle roared as our faithful hoverfloat defended itself with all the robotic skill at its
command. Alas, the fracas ended suddenly with a tremendous explosion.
"End of champagne and caviar," Angelina said, her voice so cold I felt my body temperature drop.
"I'll not contribute to the Policeman's Ball this year." I grimaced.
She laughed warmly and squeezed my hand. And the old, cold deadly Angelina slipped away.
"Let's make tracks," I said. "Before they discover that they were fighting the robot pilot."
"Let us not," she said. "This is a nice big tree that we are under. It will shield us from visual observation, perhaps
infrared imaging as well. If they suspect that we were not in the hoverfloat they could backtrack and look for us."
"Your logic is impeccable," I said, rooting through the survival kit. Guns, grenades, all the necessities of life. "And to
carry that logic a bit further-why were the police trying to shoot us up?"
"I haven't the foggiest. As far as the authorities know we are simple tourists who dabble in the market. Sometimes
losing..."
"Most times winning!"
"What do you have there?" she asked as I pulled a silver form out from behind a belt of ammunition.
"Jolly Barman Instant Cocktails. I bought a couple of these on sale." I pulled the tab and two plastic beakers dropped
into my hand. There was a hissing sound and the can turned cold in my hand; moisture condensed on it. I handed Angelina a
beaker, poured it full of sparkling liquid. The gray scraps in the bottoms of the mugs were instantly reconstituted by the liquid
to pieces of fruit. I poured another drink for myself and we sipped appreciatively.
"Not too bad." I smacked my lips and cudgeled my brain. "Those police were out to blast us-not arrest us. Are we
missing something?"
"Obviously. I think that we should get out of the forest now and see what we can find out about this mystery attack."
"We can't exactly call the police and ask them why they were gunning for us-can we?"
"We can't. Therefore I will think of something more subtle. Call our son James and have him do a computer search of
our problem. After all-he is in the computer business here and should know how to get information."
"An excellent idea. We can also have him come pick us up since it is a long walk home."
We finished the drinks and I shouldered the survival kit. There was no sound of aircraft now, just some distant
birdcalls and the hum of insects. We moved through the trees, staying undercover, distancing ourselves from the action with
the police fleet. We listened closely but there was no sound of any engines behind or above us. I smiled. Then I frowned when
I heard the grumble of a motor up ahead.
"Perhaps that is a sturdy forester, practicing his weald-wise trade," I said hopefully.
"Would that it were. Because whatever it is out there is coming closer. If they are looking for us, then I am forced to
believe that all of this activity and attention is far too murderous for a simple traffic bust."
"Unhappily, I agree. They have made no attempt to communicate with us just came in blasting."
I looked on gloomily as she opened the survival kit and took out an immense handgun. "But let us not make it easy for
them."
We didn't. The armored police cruiser had its tracks blow off as it appeared. It kept firing at us even though it couldn't
move. We dived in close, so close it could not depress its guns to get at us. I jumped to the top of the tread, flipped open the
top hatch and dropped a couple of sleep capsules. Then I looked carefully inside.
"Highly interesting." I rejoined Angelina on the ground. "Nobody home. Which means, like the cruisers that chased
us, this thing is also robot operated and remotely controlled."
"By whom?"
"By our new enemies, whoever they are."
Distant engines sounded from behind the trees and we slipped away in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest.
Which did not do much good in the end because there were. now sounds of machines from ahead.
"They have trackers on us-so there is no point in wearying ourselves by running about. We'll stay here and make a
stand. Get as many of these robot machines as we can."
"I thought that there were laws of robotics-about not killing or injuring humans."
"It looks like those laws were repealed. Lock and load here they come again!"
I would have felt a certain compunction about killing a policeman, but I really did enjoy blasting police robots into
tiny bits of junk. But it proved to be a no-win battle. Wherever we turned they were there ahead of us. Our ammunition
dwindled as their numbers increased.
"My last grenade," Angelina said as she blasted a hovertank.
"My last shot," I said, taking out a robocycle. "It has been nice knowing you."
"Nonsense, Jim. You are not giving up, you never do, never will."
"You know that-but they don't." I stepped out into the clearing and waved my handkerchief, raised my palms in the air
as I faced the circle of robot police. "Peace, pax, surrender. OK?"
"No OK," an armored robot said. It had sergeant's stripes welded to its arm, and a sneering tone to its metallic voice.
It raised a glowing muzzled flamethrower.
I blew it away with a shot from my crotch cannon.
Was this the end? Were we to be ground into the soil of this sordid planet at the galaxy's edge?
The tanks and robots and all the other military gear surrounded us, rumbled forward, weapons quivering with metallic
malice. Angelina had her
hand in mine. I contemplated one last attack, throwing myself onto our attackers in the vain hope that she might escape.
Then, even as I tensed my muscles for a suicidal attack, a voice sounded out from among the trees.
"You really are very good," the dapper man said condescendingly as he stepped into the glade. Full evening dress,
black cloak held by a diamond brooch, diamondcapped cane. This was too much. I heard a primitive, unsummoned growl
grumble from the back of my throat as I fired what really was the very last shot from my crotch cannon.
It exploded with a glare of flame, a blast of noise.
Just in front of him. Spending all of its energy harmlessly against the force screen emanating from his walking stick.
"Temper, temper," he breathed, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. He waved the ebony cane in a slight arc
and all of the weaponry grumbled back into the forest and vanished from sight.
"You are not the police," Angelina said.
"Anything but, Mrs. diGriz. Those were my minions who took you on. My employees, so to speak. Their ranks are
now well decimated I must add."
"Tough," I said. "Call your insurance company. Remember-you started it."
"I did indeed, and am well satisfied by the outcome. I have heard from many sources that you were the best man-and
best lady of course-in your chosen profession. I found that hard to believe. But now I do. Most impressive. So impressive that I
am prepared to offer you a little assignment."
"I am not for hire. Who are you?"
"Oh, I think you are. Imperetrix Von Kaiser-Czarski. You may call me Chaise."
"Good-by, Chaise," I sneered, taking Angelina's hand and turning away.
"One million credits a day. Plus expenses."
"Two million," I said, turning back, all sneering spent.
"Done. We will both sign this." A gold-embellished contract on finest vellum unrolled from his walking stick and he
passed it over to me. Angelina leaned over my shoulder and we read it together.
"Any problems?" Chaise asked.
"None," I answered. "We undertake to undertake an assignment at the agreed fee, payment to be deposited daily to my
account. Fine. But what is it that you want us to do?"
Chaise sighed and touched his stick again. It opened up into a comfortable-looking folding seat and he settled into it.
"To begin with, you must realize my position, understand exactly who I am. You have never heard of me because I
prefer it that way. If only to avoid the people with their hands out, eagerly seeking some of my money. I am, to put it simply,
the richest man in the galaxy." He smiled slightly as he spoke. Undoubtedly thinking of all the money he had.
"I am probably the oldest man as well. The last time I worked out the figures, I think it was forty thousand years, give
or take a millennium or two. As I am sure you realize, one's memory begins to glitch a bit as the centuries roll by. I was a
scientist, rather I think that I was a scientist. Or perhaps I hired a scientist. In any case I developed the first longevity drug.
That much I am sure of. Which I, of course, kept to myself. And have been improving it ever since. How old do you think I
look?"
He raised his chin and turned his head. No wattles there. No wrinkles about his eyes, no touch of gray to his temple.
"Forty, I would say," Angelina said.
"Centuries?"
"Years."
"You are very kind. Well, as the millennia rolled by I amassed more money, more property. I could have easily
assured my fortune by simply investing and letting the compound interest roll in. But that would have been very boring, and
boredom is what I loathe the most. I have always sought excitement to lessen the burden of my years. In the process of
growing rich I have bought, and now own, entire star systems. To add diversity to my portfolio I am presently in the process of
acquiring a spiral galaxy; one never knows when one might need one. There are some black holes among my recent
acquisitions. But I think I shall divest myself of them. Boring. Seen one black hole and you have seen them all."
He took the kerchief from his breast pocket, touched it lightly to his lips, returned it. One atom short of a molecule, I
thought. I caught Angelina's eye and saw that she thought the same.
"But now I have a very troublesome problem that needs to be solved. I look for your aid in that quest."
"Three million a day," I said promptly, avarice beating down suspicion.
"Done," he said, stifling a yawn at the same time. "My problem is that I am systematically being robbed. Someoneor
some group-has been getting into my bank accounts. Right across the galaxy. Clearing them out. And if it so happens that I
happen to own the bank-The Widows and Orphans Is' Interstellar Bank-why then the entire branch of the bank is cleaned out
as well. This makes for bad customer relationships. From millions of clients with their billions of credits. As you might
understand this is quite embarrassing for one in my position. You, gentleman Jim diGriz, must utilize all of your stainless steel
talents to stop these thefts and to discover who is perpetrating them.
As I opened my mouth to speak he raised his cane and sighed. "Yes, I know, don't bother to say it, four million a day
and let us leave it there. I find business so boring."
"You will have to give me complete details of all the previous thefts," I said. "And a list of banks where you have
accounts, as well as banks that you own."
"That has already been done. You will find all of the information in your computer's memory banks."
"You are pretty sure of yourself."
"I am."
"And you work pretty fast."
"I have to-and at the price I am paying you, why you better do so as well. I want results yesterday. However I will
settle for information instantly. Might I offer you a lift-so you can get right to work?"
"You will have to," Angelina said coldly. "After what you did to our hoverfloat. And our picnic basket."
"The value of your craft has already been credited to your highly secret, known to no one, account in the Banco di
NAPSLO. And as some recompense for hardship I do hope that you will be my guests at dinner tonight at the Earth light
Room. Just tell the maitre d' to bill Kaia's account. You will dine as you have never dined before."
A black and silent overalls dropped down into the clearing: the door opened.
"After you, Mrs. diGriz. Or, might I be so bold, Angelina?"
"Buster," she said, swaying ever so gracefully up the stairs, "for what you are paying my husband you can call me
anything you want."
CHAPTER 2
So far Chaise had kept his word. The promised money had been deposited to my account in the Banco di NAPSLO.
Despite the fact that I was sure that this cache of money was unknown to anyone. Chaise must really know about banks and
banking. This could not be ignored. I made a mental note to find a new and more secure bank now that Chaise knew about this
one. And an even newer and more secure way of transferring all my funds from my present bank. I was sure that if Chaise
knew how to put credits into my accounthe might very well be able to siphon them out as well.
I shuddered when I turned on my computer. There was so much information about Kaia's banks and bank accounts
jammed into the machine's memory that bits and bytes were falling out of the memory banks; pixels were dropping off the
screen.
"You will need lots more computer memory than you have now," Angelina said, frowning at the electronic debris.
"I feel that I need lots more computer as well. Since we will be accessing far more data than this. Don't I recall our
good son James telling me far more about super computers he was designing than I really cared to know?"
"I'm surprised that you remember that much. You fell sound asleep."
"Food and drink no doubt responsible for that."
"I doubt it. You mumbled something about concepts the mind cannot stomach as you dozed off."
"I apologize! I'll eat humble pie! But, yes, you are right. I clearly remember passing through a computer-enthusiast
phase in my mouth. But those days are long gone. All I want to know now about computer hardware now is where the switch
is that turns the thing on."
"James will take care of our computer problems," she said with the firm knowledge of our son's talent that only a
mother could have.
But she was right. If it had not been for the hard work of James, and his twin brother Believer, our recent adventures
in parallel-galaxy trotting could very well have ended in disaster. When Angelina had gone to Heaven it had been my turn to
go to Hell. Or something very much like it. It took us a long time to sort out our time and space difficulties with a multi
charactered individual who was causing immense problems in a number of places. We could never have been able to do it
without the boys' help. But, unlike the failures that we occasionally experience when we clash with the evils of the universe,
this time all had ended very well indeed. In fact the whole affair had been consummated in matrimonial bliss. The twins had
both been in love with the same woman, Sybil, the top agent in the Special Corps. As intelligent as she was beautiful, she had
made the fatal decision that had turned the possibility of sibling rivalry into the enduring knot of marriage. Double marriage
that is.
One of the more interesting side effects of Professor Coypu's universe-hopping machine was the doubling of one of its
passage portals. That is if one person went through it, he or she came back doubled. Two people that really were the same
person, or had been the same person. A bit confusing to
understand, but very effective if two men were in love with the same woman-and she loved them both as well. Firm of mind,
Sybil had passed through the portal and Sybil and Sybill had turned. They had tossed a coin to see who got the extra 1. This
had all ended in a very festive marriage indeed. We were most happy to see Sybil joyously married to James, while Sybill was
happily ensconced in Bolivar's arms. It had been a very neat solution to what could have been a rather serious problem.
"We must talk to James," Angelina said. "Have him sort this computer problem out."
"We must indeed," I said, reaching for the phone.
It was not pure chance that had brought us to this dreary planet. When James had discovered that Sybil shared his
passion for nanotechnology, they had moved here to utilize all of the planet's technological know-how. We had reports, from
time to time, about their progress. Everything seemed to be working as planned and the money, instead of flowing out steadily,
had begun to trickle in.
So it seemed almost natural to consider Usti nad Labam. when we were looking for a site for our money-raising
operation.
"It would be quite logical," Angelina had said, "to visit the newlyweds at the same time as we begin our new financial
operation. There seems to be a good deal of money in circulation on this planet."
"And little else," I had said, flipping through the sales brochure churned out by the planet's tourist board. "A very dull
planet if you read between the lines. Holiday camps where gambling is not allowed. At least drink isn't banned-but I am sure
that they are thinking about it."
"Jim diGriz-you are beginning to sound like an old grouch. We are going there to visit our son and daughter-in-law.
And we will make a lot of money. And leave if it is as boring as you think and blast off to a planet of pleasure."
So we had gone. And it was nowhere near as bad as I had thought. Since gambling was illegal, there proved to be a
good bit of clandestine gambling. I had studied magic since I was a stripling and had been a pretty fair cardician, as the
professionals call it. That is someone who specializes in card manipulation. Very handy on stage-and equally useful in playing
poker. When the stock market became boring I joined some payday card games and always managed to win more than I lost.
Angelina had greatly enjoyed, as did I, visiting James and his wife. This was always an excuse for a party and my
gambling proceeds turned into joyful celebrations at the best restaurants.
As good as this was, the rest of this world left a lot to be desired. The planet must have evolved from a supernova
because the ground was rich in heavy metals for doping computer chips. Not to mention vast fields of the purest silicon for
making the chips themselves. The computer manufacturers had thronged to Silicon Gulch. Followed by the software nerds and
all the other people who lived off technological industry.
We had come for a quick visit, then stayed on when we discovered that the local and badly organized stock exchange
could be a cash cow. Perhaps we had stayed too long. Kaia's arrival had raised our morale-and the promise that it would lead to
our exodus from this none too attractive world.
"I'm going to call them now," Angelina said, and called out the number to our telephone.
"I am connecting you now," the phone said. It was as good as its word and a moment later I could hear the phone
ringing at the other end.
"Nanotechtrics, how may I help you? " the computer generated smarmy voice said.
"I want to talk to the boss," I called out.
"Whom shall I tell her is calling?"
"Good girl," Angelina said, always an enthusiast for female equality.
"Not her, him, James, his father. . ."
"Grrrk, " the computer said as it was interrupted. "Good to hear from you, Dad. Long time no talk. "
"Too long. All work and no play. But work first. I need a supercomputer for some research we are undertaking, one
that's not as big as a house and needs an electric cable as thick as your arm to supply the juice."
"You have just described our Nanotechtric-68X. I'll get one to you at once."
"Everlasting thanks," I said and disconnected. The doorannunciator bleeped.
"I'll get it," Angelina said, then-"James, what a pleasant surprise, come in."
When my son says at once he really means it. "When you phoned I was in my chopper-and I had a 68X with me. I was
just a hop away."
He brought in a battered leather suitcase, set it down and then it was kisses and handshakes all around. I eyed the
suitcase suspiciously.
"Planning a trip?" I asked.
"Our latest model, the 68X." He swung it up onto the table and pressed the latch. A screen flipped up and the
keyboard popped out. I looked at it dubiously and he laughed. "This is just about our first working model. We breadboarded it
to fit into this old suitcase. Streamlining and whizbang decor will all come later. For field testing this can't be beat." He patted
it affectionately. "It works in a massively parallel mode. It uses distributive resources that reach out to memory spread across
high-speed networks, which makes its speed not only unmeasurable-but even hard to just estimate. Its high-end massively
parallel systems are really in the several teraflop range."
My eyes crossed: he had lost me. "Teraflop? Fall to earth?"
"Not quite. One teraflop equals exactly one trillion floatingpoint calculations per second. So you can see that this little
baby is really in the big league. One thing that helps as well is the fact that all the memory is nanobased.
We have invented and patented a molecular nanomemory where rows of molecules are flipped one way or the other to
record data. I will demonstrate. Do you have a database I can copy?"
"Far too much in one of them. In the computer, filed under KAIZI."
He hummed to himself as he connected the two computers and hit a button. There was a quick crackling sound and
the hairs on the back of my neck lifted up. James peered at the screen and smiled.
"Done," he said. "And less than one-hundredth of one percent of the memory in this computer has been used. Now
what do you want done with it?"
I told him about our encounter in the forest and Kaia's problems. He nodded understandingly and his fingers skipped
over the keys. He smiled when I mentioned the daily transfer to my bank account, shook his head when I mentioned how easily
my employer had found this same account.
"We will have to do something about that. Find a secure place for your hardearned income." He leaned back and
cracked his knuckles while the screen before him flared and crackled. "I've started a search program, really a lot of search
programs running at the same time in a neural network. But- we sure have a lot of material to search for. What I have done is I
have tapped into the interstellar web. We are now recording every detail of every occurrence of any kind, in any city where a
robbery took place. All of the details of activity before and after the time that one of the banks was robbed. Then comparisons
of all the data will be made. Such as, let us say, a spacer with the same name left every one of these cities exactly one day after
each of the robberies . . ."
"We have them! Find that spacer and we find the thieves!"
"Easier said than done. And that was just an imaginary example. I think the real tracks are going be a lot harder to
find. But let us get all the facts first, then try to relate them. I'll leave the program running since it will take some time to
produce any results. In the meantime why don't you open a bottle of champers so we can celebrate your new job-and the first
real test of my 68X."
Even as he spoke Angelina brought a tray with bottle and glasses and we drank the toast. A moment later Sybil
arrived, which made the parry all the merrier. But James was still working while he sipped.
"Dad," he asked, "what do you know about banks?"
"That is where the money is!" I said happily.
"I mean more than that. What do you know about fiduciary bonds, roll-over percentages, PEPS, short-term interest-
bearing investments, treasury bills and bank certificates of deposit?"
"Happily nothing. It is the money in the hand that counts."
"Agreed. But since we have been running our own business I have dipped my toe into the golden water of finance and
find it most lucrative. But I am a mere amateur. We will need someone with expert knowledge of the banking system if we
stand any chance at all of finding the perpetrators of this crime."
"I think that Bolivar is the right man for the job," Sybil said, for she had been listening to us when Angelina had gone
for a fresh bottle of bubbly. My eyebrows raised.
"But he is out among the stars," I reminded her. "Indulging in his profound enthusiasm for lunar geology. And giving
him all aid in his projects is Sybill who, I understand, shares his enthusiasm for life on the frontier."
"She does, but a little of it goes a long way. We have stayed in close touch and I can sense her feelings, since they are
the same as mine. She has not said so in that many words, but living in a space suit for days on end does not do much for one's
hairdo. Not to mention personal hygiene. We have been talking of alternative possibilities that might necessitate a little break
from the joys of airlessness and free fall. She, as I do, of course, has a keen interest in art history, archaeology, and,
interestingly enough, the banking profession. Between working spells as an agent for the Special Corps I have always indulged
myself in a fiduciary hobby. Some investing here, a little bit of takeover bidding and asset stripping there. Just for fun, as you
might imagine. But my bank balance is a pretty solid one. Such a coincidence, your new interest in the banking profession."
"I have always been interested," I said humbly. She laughed.
"I don't have quite the same interest. I mean, after all, if no one made deposits how could you make all of those
withdrawals that you specialize in?"
"Point made-I stand corrected."
"Perhaps it is more than a coincidence, and coming events cast their shadow before them. But the very last time that
Sybill and I talked it was about how much she misses the old give and take of the stock exchange. And-dare I say it?-a life that
at times is more attractive than lunar exploration. If only for a short while. I am sure that if Bolivar thought about it, that he
would enjoy the joys of banking as well. And I know that Sybill would be more than happy to help him with her specialized
knowledge."
"But are you sure that he will like it?" I asked.
"Of course he will," Sybil and Angelina said at the same time. I am sure that Sybill was in agreement as well. Yes, of
course he would. At three to one odds he didn't stand a chance otherwise.
"I will arrange it," Sybil said. "There is a branch of the Banco Cuerpo Especial on a very hospitable planet called
Elysium. It is a little known fact that this bank is owned, run and operated by the Special Corps. If we are all in agreement we
could shake the dust of Usti nad Labam from our shoes and go there. It will be a real family reunion. The computer search will
continue and I will help Sybill with Bolivar's new career."
"Poor man," James said, then raised his glass to shield himself from the sizzling glances aimed his way.
When we finally contacted Bolivar and Sybill with a conference telepresence call he looked gloomier and gloomier at
his unavoidable fate. He could only wriggle on the hook.
"I'm getting real close to a breakthrough on gravimetric tectonics and photon interaction."
"Sounds fascinating," Angelina said. "You must tell us all about it when we get together on Elysium."
"It won't take too long because you should pick up everything you need to know about banking in a few weeks,"
Sybill said, obviously feeling some pity for her husband. "And don't forget that banks are where the money is."
"True," he said, looking more cheerful. "I will need a good bit more financing to finish my research." And cheerfuller
still. "It's been a long time since we were all together. Some fun in the sun!"
"And food that's not dehydrated," Sybill said, adding a grace note of enthusiasm. "We will have a ball."
And thus did my first day of honest employment end. When I awoke next morning I discovered that my Angelina had
been up long before me, travel plans had been made, tickets booked, bags packed, computer fully charged, the cab at the door.
I checked to see that Kaia's daily deposit had been made-and we were on our way.
We had a good time, I must admit a very good time. Sybil and Sybill were so happy to be reunited that we all basked in the
warmth of their emotion. Bolivar actually began to enjoy his work in the bank; he was assistant manager by now and still
climbing the ladder of success, looking forward to applying his new knowledge for our mutual benefit. And Elysium really was
a pleasure planet and we enjoyed partaking thereof. It had a delightful climate at the equator, where the bank was located, and
we, of course, settled in most easily. Countless small islands were set in a warm sea. I snorkeled and scuba dived happily
among the varied life-forms, getting back the muscle tone that slipped away so easily these days.
But I still worked hard at my new employment every day. That is I checked to see if my daily wage had been
deposited. And patted the computer, which bleeped and kept beavering away. The search and computations would have been
long finished except that there was difficulty getting data from distant planets.
"Don't let it worry you," James said. "I have search programs working in all the site cities. Enjoy yourself-and I'll let
you know as soon as the gongs ring."
I needed no encouragement. Although I enjoyed the scuba diving, even more gratifying was the rugged continent near
Elysium's northern pole. Here were jagged mountains and endless snow. A skier's paradise. My muscle tone actually hummed
with life now. Angelina and I enjoyed every moment of our extended holiday.
Yet still best of all was waking in the morning and checking my balance in the bank. Which was growing at the rate of
four million a day. Bolivar had arranged for each day's deposit to be transferred, by a theoretically untraceable route, to a
distant and highly secret bank. But all holidays must end. We hung up our skies and hopped on the first flight when Bolivar
sent word that the search was finally coming up with the data that we needed. We joined together in the morning for a friendly
family meal.
"Now this is the kind of work I like," I said, going out onto the balcony away from the other diners and lighting an
after-breakfast cigar. Just as a bell rang in the computer, a red light blinked on-and a puff of smoke came out of a vent in the
top.
James looked up from his plate when he heard the ping and put his silverware down. "Results at last. It sure took long
enough."
"Three weeks," I said. "That is not too long."
"It is for this machine. At the minimum it has performed thirty-two to the one hundred eleventh teraflop operations
since it started. Now let us see the result."
He sat and typed in a command. Scowled, typed faster. Eventually leaned back and sighed, touched a button. The
printer clicked and extruded a sheet of paper.
"The answer," he said, waving it towards us.
"Which is?" Angelina asked.
"A little perturbing. Of all the events, movements, goings and comings, crimes and punishments, accidents and
activities, births and deaths, everything that occurred on all of the planets on the dates of the bank robberies, out of all these
possibilities there is only one thing that they have in common."
"Tell!" I commanded and all present at the table nodded in agreement.
"I'll tell. The circus was in town."
"James-you are not playing games with us." There was a cold tone in Angelina's voice.
"Never, my dear mother. This is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
"The same circus each time?" I asked.
"No. I thought that at first myself. There were a number of different circuses involved."
"But they had something in common?" I asked.
"The knife of your cold logic cuts deep, Dad. It appears that all of them employed, on the day of the robbery, the same
circus act."
The room was so silent as we listened that you could have heard a syllable dropped.
"Present on the planet at each theft was a man, an individual by the name of Puissanto, billed as the Strongest Man in
the Galaxy."
"Do you know where he is now?"
"No. He is resting. But I do know where he will be in about a month's time. He will be heading the bill when Bolshoi's
Big Top comes to town."
"And where is town?"
"On a distant planet I have never heard of, out in the wrong part of the galaxy, with the unattractive name of Fetorr.
The city has the equally unattractive name of Fetorrscoria."
"Our next stop," I said, climbing to my feet and leaving the cigar to die in the ashtray. "Start packing."
"Brilliant," Angelina said, the scorn in her voice signifying the direct opposite.
"Of course," I said, sitting back down. "What would we do when we got there? Well, I know what we have to do. We
all have to settle down quietly while I put Plan A into effect."
"Which is?" Angelina asked, now as confused as the rest.
"I join the circus. We are certainly not going to learn anything by sitting in the audience. While I am doing that we put
the rest of the operation on hold. James and Sybil, do I hear the sibilant hiss of your nanotechnology business calling to you?"
"You do, Dad. This planet has been a lot of fun-but even the best vacation must end. You will be going to work now
and I feel that we should do the same. But-even while it is back to work-we will keep the communications link open and will
be with you instantly if you need us."
"Grateful thanks. Bolivar-does the rough outback of the stars call you?"
"Not too loudly yet. Now that I am involved in banking I find it very interesting. I want to learn as much as I can, then
make a little money to prove I know my business. And I want to know enough about the business so I can come to your aid
with my know-how when you need it. Time enough after that for Sybill and me to get back to outer space."
"To work then!"
This time when I jumped to my feet I stayed there.
CHAPTER 3
"And just what talents do you plan to present to this circus that will entice them to employ you? Acrobatics?"
Angelina asked.
"Not quite-although I could if I tried."
"I am sure that you could. Despite. . ."
"Despite my advanced years?" I said in a cracked and ancient voice. Then leapt into the air and clicked my heels
together five times before I landed. She applauded enthusiastically.
"I think I will do something less strenuous." I took a fivecredit coin from my pocket and let it roll from finger to finger
across the back of my hand. "Magic. I have always been a keen amateur. And as a cardician-even more than that."
"Cardician? I thought they just called it cheating at cards?"
"That is the technical term magicians use when referring to this particular skill. I will demonstrate."
I took a sealed deck of cards from the shelf and tore off the wrapper. Fanned them out, reassembled them, shuffled
them enthusiastically and fanned them out again on the table, backs up.
"Now choose a card, any card, that's it. Look at it. Right."
I whipped up the cards and fanned them out again. "Put it back into the deck."
When she had done all this I gave the deck many good shuffles, then fanned them out-this time face up. "Will you
kindly point to your chosen card."
She looked at the cards closely-then carefully looked again and shook her head.
"It's not there."
"Are you positive?"
"Of course I am."
"Was your chosen card the King of Spades?"
"It was! How did you know that?"
"Because I see that card in the pocket of your skirt."
I reached in and took out the card and handed it to her.
She gasped. "That's my card. You really do magic-and have been hiding it from me all these years. And I thought you
only cheated at cards."
I bowed and accepted her praise. "Magic had to look like magic. But it is hard work. First there is misdirection, where
I see to it that you look only where I want you to. Then there is forcing-"
"You didn't force me to do anything."
"A technical term, meaning I did this trick in such a way that you took the card I wanted you to take. Then I watched
as you put the card back into the deck. And marked the card by inserting my little finger next to it. Which you could not see
because I made sure that I only showed you the back of the deck. Then I removed and palmed the card before I shuffled the
deck. It was in my hand when I placed it into your pocket."
"I never saw it."
"You were never intended to. Then I removed the card from your pocket. Magic! End of the trick. But to be a stage
magician I will have to be able to do a lot more than manipulate cards. I must now abandon my amateur status to become an
even keener professional."
"A sound idea," she said. "You have certainly worked magic in the past, cleaning out banks." Then she smiled and
clapped her hands with happiness. "And I shall be your beautiful assistant! All women dream of a career on the stage. Think of
all the lovely costumes I will wear."
"I am thinking-and think very much of the idea. And I also think that it is time to get some more information on my
new vocation."
Unhappily, it was not easy to come by. Magicians, down through the centuries, have been a close-mouthed lot.
Passing their secrets on all too reluctantly, keeping the details of their trade very close to the chest. Despite the billions of
entries in the databases I searched, I could find very little real information. Just card tricks and vanishing rabbits and things like
that. I had the strong feeling that Bolshoi's Big Top would sneer at my act if that was all that I could do.
"Nothing," I growled as I shouted at the computer to turn itself off. "Maybe it is the acrobat-way after all."
"Do not despair," Angelina said, pouring me a glass of alcoholic despair-destroyer. I sipped at it and smiled thanks in
her direction.
"You are right. Worry not and put the old brain cells to work. If magic were that easy we would be up to our thighs in
magicians. We are not. But there are magical acts on the gogglebox all of the time. I've watched them in awe. How do they do
it? Or rather how did they ever learn to do it? Not from books and computer programs-I've checked that out. But they do learn.
How?"
"You mean who, don't you?"
"I do, I do!" I chortled as I sprang to my feet, finger raised in the air. "They learn from each other. Every sorcerer
must have an apprentice. That is what I must be."
I turned to the familiar suitcase form of the Nanotechtric68X. "Awake, good computer," I commanded.
"But speak and I obey, oh master. "
Angelina raised one lovely eyebrow. "You have been teaching this thing to be your electronic slave?"
"Why not? Anything to keep the old ego happy." I turned back to the suitcase. "Magicians, good magicians-galaxy
famous magicians. Track them down and prepare a list of them."
The printout was humming away even before I had finished speaking. There were only six entries on the page. A very
exclusive fraternity indeed. I spent a good hour preparing an irresistible sales pitch, listing my varied and convincing talents,
and applying for the position of apprentice sorcerer. With the added inducement that I was prepared to pay vast sums for my
education. When my missives were dispatched into the electronic void I finished my drink and cocked my head as I heard a
distant digestive rumble.
"Lunchtime," I rumbled in echo. "Let us dine at some exclusive and hideously expensive restaurant while my
applications are being processed. And return to find out who my mentor will be."
Dine we did, well and expensively, and were just signaling for the bill when Sybill appeared. Yes, it had to be Sybill
because Sybil, her other self, had returned with James to Usti nad Labam to work with him on their mutual computer project.
"Food or drink?" I said.
"Thank you, no. Well, maybe a small bite and a drop of wine. Thank you." She sipped and smiled. "I just grabbed a
few minutes to talk while Bolivar attends a board meeting for our newly established private bank, Credit Dew. There are some
investments we have been toying with."
"Investments? Perhaps I should consider something like that myself, with all the credits from Chaise just lying
around."
"That's just what Bolivar said. And he wasn't too sure that your secret secret account was all that secret. So he
transferred all your money here so he could watch it closely."
"How kind!"
"He also used it to finance the establishment of Credit Dew."
A little too kind, I thought. But kept the thought to myself. I am sure that he knew what he was doing.
"A little more wine." I said and tipped a bit into each of our glasses. We all drank.
"But you didn't come here to talk about banking," Angelina said.
"You're right. I have been thinking about Jim's new career while Bolivar is busy making money. Through my Special
Corps contacts I did a little more investigating of the circus. I did a little checking on the acts myself and have found one that
was of great interest. Gar Goyle's Freak Show. Intergalactic monstrosities."
"Doesn't sound too attractive," Angelina said. "I thought that sort of thing was illegal."
"It is-that is why I made some even more discreet inquiries through the Special Corps. It is all very legal-and
interesting . . ."
This caught my attention. "Interesting-in what way?"
"I'm afraid you will have to find out for yourself. This is all I could uncover now. Plus the fact that Special Corps
thinks that Gar Goyle can be trusted. If I find out anything else I'll let you know. How are your magical studies going?"
"We will know as soon as I get answers to some inquiries. I feel that I am on the cusp of an entirely new career."
"Best of luck." She looked at her watch, touched the napkin to her lips. "Bolivar's meeting should be done by now. I
must fly. Bye."
Then she was away in a burst of enthusiasm. We finished our luncheon and returned, sated, to our rooms. Eager to
find the response to my queries.
Which was exactly nothing. Nor was it any better a day later. My letters had vanished into the interstellar void. Like
magic. Then the message-received bell pinged and, with sudden joy, I lifted the sheet from the tray.
Glanced at it and cursed fluently in Esperanto as I crumpled it and hurled it to the floor.
"Fiegulo! Bastardego! Ekskrementkapo! "
"I gather you are not too happy at the result?" Angelina said.
When I answered her I had to speak through grated teeth. "I have never been so insulted in my life. Not only rejected
but sneered at, put down, derided, despised. . ."
"And all of the rest. Well the study of magic is obviously a very secretive thing. So what do you do next?"
"Find another answer," I said as I paced gloomily about the room. Which is not an easy thing to do. Nor is pacing
angrily. Nor raging fatuously. "Not a single famous magician will take me."
"Then why don't you try the not-so-famous?"
"Not so good. I need only the best."
"Maybe the best are dead. If they were really good they should be able to speak to you from beyond the grave."
"No jokes! This is a serious matter. . ."
Then I stopped in my tracks as the idea popped to the surface. "Not alive, not dead . . . but . . . retired!"
My faithful suitcase had but to be commanded. There were only two names on the new list, the first one lightyears
away right across the galaxy. But then, with quavering finger, I pointed out the address of the second name.
"Retired and living in Happy Hectares, a retirement home for actors. Sounds very nice."
"But do you see where Happy Hectares is?"
"Of course. Here on Elysium. And why not? This is a pleasure planet serving a number of star systems. Shall I call
Rent-a-Rover and get us some transportation?"
"By all means. I look forward intently to meeting the Great Grissini. While you do that I'll get a printout of his career
highlights."
Some hours later we rolled through the entrance of Happy Hectares, under a curling archway that had HOME OF
THE STARS spelled out in twinkling lightbulbs. We passed resplendent gardens with elderly types strolling the paths, or
sitting in shaded pergolas. Robot gardeners worked away in the flower beds; butlerbots circulated with trays of tea and little
sandwiches and cakes. And some with chilled glasses. Angelina saw the direction of my gaze and shook her head.
"Too early for you to get tucked into the sauce, Jim. First we find your magician."
The elegantly gowned and carefully coiffed lady at the front desk was kindness itself.
"The Great Grissini, of course. Let me find out where he is right now." She punched the keys; and I tried to remember
where I had seen her before. Angelina was far quicker off the mark then I was.
"Why you must be Hedy Lastarr. I so enjoyed seeing you in Planet of Passion."
"How nice of you to remember," Hedy cooed, patting the curls of her stylishly gray hair. "Not many people remember
the old threedees these days."
"They are missing a lot. Far better than the current rubbish."
"I could not agree more. Ahh, here we are. The Great Grissini is in the west garden just follow the attendant. And
don't forget our tax-free status."
She pointed delicately at a collection box on the desk before her that was labeled with HELPING THE NEEDY IS A
REAL GOOD DEEDY in ornate curled lettering. I stuffed credits through the slot in the top until she beamed with pleasure.
We followed the blue-painted robot out into the gardens.
"He is the one you seek," the robot said, pointing to a man under an umbrella, then rolling away.
The Great Grissini was not looking that great today. He was very thin, pale and bony, with his toupee not too well
secured. He looked up suspiciously when we approached. I remembered the reaction-and lack of reaction-of the magicians I
had tried to contact. I did not want to repeat my mistakes. They were surely a prickly lot. A strong sales pitch was very much
in order now. I had boned up on his biography while Angelina drove, so I could be a little more subtle in my approach.
"Might I ask if I am speaking to Pasquale Grissini-known throughout the galaxy as the Great Grissini?"
The grunted response could have meant anything. I tried to smile warmly while I introduced myself and Angelina. He
broke in before I was done.
"You want a drink?"
"Why, yes, of course. Kind of you to ask."
His next grunt was a more enthusiastic one as he pressed a button on the table before him. When he took his thumb
away I saw that the button was inscribed with a symbolic cocktail glass. Things were indeed looking up.
A boxish wheeled robot rolled over. It had arms at the front end beside a male mannequin's head. "May I be of
service?" the thing said. "The special today is Zubenelgenubian Iced Tea. One hundred and fifty proof."
"I'll take a double," Grissini said, leaning forward; the first sign of animation I had seen. We ordered the specials as
well. Something hummed in the thing's interior. Then a hatch sprang open and the iced drinks were there on a tray. Behind a
transparent door.
"That will be twenty-two credits," the robot said. "Cash only." Then it opened its mouth wide, revealing a money slot
where its tongue should be. I looked out of the corners of my eyes at Grissini who was as a marble statue. My round,
obviously. I stuffed in coins until a horn sounded a quick fanfare and the door slipped out of sight. Mechanical arms seized the
tray and deposited it on the table before us.
"And some deep-fried seaweed pretzels," our new friend said, almost smiling. I paid with pleasure. Then, while he
was getting tucked into his toxic tea, I hit the high points of his career.
"Your vanishing Boy Sprout was the hit of the circuits. Where a real live Boy Sprout climbed a rope right before the
audience-then vanished in an instant.
Did you know that there have been two books written about that trick? Each one said that they knew how it had been done."
"Did they?"
"No. As far as the galaxy goes your mystery is still a mystery. Living on in the memories of your grateful audiences."
"They loved it," he said, nodding but not letting this interfere with some serious sipping.
"What the public admired most, I do believe, was your disappearing porcuswine. Where right before their eyes this
large and ferocious creature simply vanished. The magic-loving theatergoers of the galaxy owe a lot to the Great Grissini and
will never forget him."
"Porcuswine-crap," he snapped, stirred to activity at last. "If they remembered me I would not be retired and sitting
here thirstily in the sun and living off my memories." His eyes went damp for a moment. Then he drained his glass, put aside
the moment of self-pity, and held the glass out for a refill. He sat silent until it arrived. A long swig put him back in control.
"Audiences don't give a damn when you start to get old nor do producers. Plenty of new acts coming down the pike.
So I got out before they threw me out. Now I'm stuck here in this pay-as-you-die dump. Room and board as promised when I
signed up. My fault was that I didn't read the fine print, too smart by far in those days. Let my wiseguy lawyer take care of it
for me. Didn't know until it was too late that he was senile. Signed me up here without looking at the contract. Didn't even
notice that just the basics are provided. Enough food, but not too good. A bed, but not too soft. Anything else you gotta pay.
Which they forgot to tell him when he signed me up here." He slurped up the last of the drink and I enthusiastically thumbed
the button on the table again. There was nothing forced about my smile now. Bad news for him was good news for me.
"Make note of the date." I told him. "For this is the first day of the rest of your comfortable life. Think of the best
meals you can imagine-and they shall be yours. Think of a liquor cabinet that never runs dry."
"Why should I think about them?" he said, suddenly suspicious. But not too suspicious to stop himself from grabbing
the drink when it arrived.
"Because they could be yours. Plus some better geriatric treatment-get rid of some of those wrinkles. All this will
come true-plus the added benefit of your magical miracles once more gracing the platforms of the stars."
"No way. Have the shakes too much to work them."
"You won't have to do a thing on stage. But you will know that your new assistant will continue in your noble
tradition."
"Don't have an assistant. Always worked alone."
"You have one now. Me. Interested?"
"No. My magic is my magic. Don't share it."
"Not sharing. Continuing." I pushed the brimming glass closer to him. "I shall study what you teach, and reveal
nothing I learn to anyone."
"Not even to me," Angelina said. "Except of course those illusions where I assist you. It will all be so wonderful."
She patted the back of his hand and was rewarded with a wintry smile.
"Would be nice to work again. Keep my hand in, you know." Then he frowned.
"No way. When I go-the secrets go. You can't bribe me."
"I'm not trying to bribe you!" I said loudly to cover the fact that I was trying to bribe him. "Your magic should not die
with you. Thousands yet unborn are already lusting after you." That didn't sound right. The booze must have been getting to
me as well; these drinks were lethal.
摘要：

CHAPTER1"I'mexhausted,'Angelinasaid."Allthishammeringawayonahotcomputerkeyboard.""Productivehammering,mylove,"Isaid,pushingawaymyownkeyboard,yawningandstretchinguntilmyjointscracked."Inalittleundertwohourswehavemademorethantwohundredthousandcreditsthroughinsiderdealinginthestockexchange.Somemightbel...

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