A Stainless Steel Rat Is Born

Chapter 18

I leaned forward, getting my weight on my legs, muscles tense. Ready to attacke the instant that The Bishop distracted the officer's attention. I really did not want to go against that gun with my bare hands - but I wanted even less to go back to jail. The Bishop must surely have been aware of this. He reached out a restraining hand.

"Now, let us not be hasty, James. Relax while I talk to this kind officer," His hand went slowly to his pocket, the gun following his every move, the fingers dipped deep - and came up with a thin wad of credits.

"This is advance payment for a small favor," he said, handing them over to the officer, who took the credits in both hands. Which was easy enough to do now that the gun had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. He counted while The Bishop talked.

"The favor we so humbly request is that you do not find us for two days. You will be paid this same sum tomorrow, and again the day after when you discover us and take us to the captain." The money vanished and the gun reappeared - and I never saw his hands move. He was so good he should have been on the stage.

"I think not," he said. "I think I will take all the money you have concealed on your person and in your bags. Take it and bring you to the captain now. " "Not very wise," The Bishop said sternly. "I will tell the captain exactly how much you took and he will relieve you of it and you will have nothing. I will also tell him which crewmen were bribed and they will be deprived of their money and you will not be a popular officer on this ship. Will you?" “There is a certain element of truth in what you say," he mused, rubbing his jaw in thought, hands empty again. "If the payments were increased perhaps..." "Ten percent, no more," said The Bishop, and the payment was made. "See you tomorrow. Please relock the door behind you." "Of course. Have a pleasant journey." Then he was gone and I climbed down from the pot and seized and shook The Bishop's hand. "Congratulations, sir. A masterful demonstration of a science I scarcely knew existed." "Thank you, my boy. But it helps to know the ground rules. He never had any intention of turning us out of this ship. That was just his bid. I called it, he raised, I matched and closed. He knew he couldn't squeeze higher because I need a large sum in reserve for the captain. Unspoken, but agreed nevertheless, is my silence about the bribe to him. All done by the rules..." His words were cut off by the loud sound of a hooter in the corridor outside, while a red light began blinking rapidly over the door.

"Is something wrong?" I called out.

"Something is very right. We are ready for takeoff. I suggest that we recline on the bunks because some of these old clunkers put on the Gs when they blast free. A few minutes more and we shake the dust of Bit O'Heaven from our shoes. Preferably forever. That prison, simply terrible, the food..." A growing roar drowned out his words and the bunk began to tremble. Then the acceleration of takeoff jumped on my chest. Just like in the films - but far more exciting in reality. This was it! Offplanet! What joys lay ahead.

Pretty far ahead still. The mattress was thin and my back hurt from the pressure. Then we went in and out of null-G a few times before they got the artificial gravity right. Or almost right. Every once in awhile it would give a little hiccup. So would my stomach. This happened often enough so that during the next days I didn't miss the meals that I would normally have eaten. At least we had all the rusty, flat water we needed to drink. The officer stayed bribed, I stayed in my bunk most of the time and concentrated on the Esperanto lessons to forget my miseries. After two days of this the gravity finally straightened out and my appetite returned. I looked forward to our release, some more bribery - and some food.

"Stowaways!" the officer said when he unlocked the door, staggered, hand over heart. For the benefit of the crewgirl who accompanied him. 'Terrible, unheard of! On your feet, you two, and come with me. Captain Garth will want to know about this." It was a very convincing performance, spoiled only by his ready hand for the money as soon as the crewgirl's back was turned. She seemed bored by the whole thing and was probably in on the deal herself. We tramped the corridor and up three flights of metal stairs to the bridge. The captain, at least, was shocked to see us. Probably the only one on the ship who didn't know we were aboard. "Damn and blast - where did these come from?" "In one of the empty cabins on C deck." "You were supposed to check those cabins." "I did, my captain, it is in the log. One hour before takeoff. After that I was on the bridge with you. They must have come aboard after that." "Who did you bribe?" Captain Garth said, turning to us, a grizzled old spacedog with a mean look in his eye.

"No one, captain," The Bishop said, sincerity ringing in his voice. "I know these old Reptile class freighters very well. Just before takeoff the guard at the gangway entered the ship. We came in behind him, unseen, and hid in the cabin. That is all there is to it." "I don't believe a word of it. Tell me who you bribed or you'll be in the brig and in big trouble." "My dear captain, your honest crewmen would never take bribes!" He ignored the unbelieving snort. "I have proof. All of my not inconsiderable fortune is intact and in my pocket. " "Out," the captain instantly ordered all the men in the control room. "All of you. I'll take this watch. I want to question these two more thoroughly." The officer and the crewmembers shuffled out, their faces expressionless under his gaze. When they were gone the captain sealed the door and spun about. "Let's have it," he ordered. The Bishop passed over a very tidy sum and the captain riffled through it, then shook his head. "Not enough." "Of course," The Bishop agreed. "That is the opening payment. The balance after landfall on some agreeable planet with lax custom officers." "You ask a lot. I have no desire to risk trouble with planetary authorities by smuggling in illegal immigrants. It will be far easier to relieve you of the money right now and dispose of you as I will." The Bishop was not impressed at all by this ploy. He tapped his pocket and shook his head. "Not possible. Final payment is with this registered check for two-hundred thousand credits drawn on Galactic Credit and Exchange. It is not legal tender until I countersign it with a second signature. You may torture me, but I will never sign! Until we are standing on firm ground." The captain shrugged meaningfully and turned to the controls, making a minor adjustment before he turned back. "There is a matter of paying for your meals," he said calmly. "Charity does not pay my fuel bills." "Absolutely. Let us fix a rate." That appeared to be all there was to it - but The Bishop whispered a warning as we went back down the corridor. "The cabin is undoubtedly bugged. Our luggage searched. I have all our funds on me. Stay close so there are no accidents. That officer, for one, would make an excellent professional pickpocket. Now - what do you say to a little food? Since we have paid we can end our enforced fast with a splendid feast." My stomach rumbled loud agreement with this suggestron, and we made for the galley. Since there were no passengers the fat, unshaven cook served only Venian peasant food. Fine for the natives, but it took some getting used to. Did you ever try to hold your nose and eat at the same time? I didn't ask the cook what we were eating - I was afraid he would tell me. The Bishop sighed deeply and began to fork down his ration of gunge, "The one thing I forgot about Venia," he said gloomily, "was the food. Selective memory I am sure. Who would want to recall at any time a feast like this?" I did not answer since I was gulping at my cup of warm water to get the taste out of my mouth.

"Small blessings," I said. "At least the water here isn't as nasty as the stuff from the tap in our cabin." The Bishop sighed again.

"That is coffee that you are drinking." A fun cruise it was not. We both lost weight since it was often better to avoid a meal than to eat it. I continued my studies, learning the finer points of embezzling, expenseaccount grafting; double and treble entry bookkeepingall done in Esperanto until I was as facile as a native in that fine language.

At our first planetfall we stayed in the ship since soldiers and customs officers were thick as sandfleas about the ship.

"Not here," the captain said, looking at the screened image of the ground with us. "Very rich planet, but they don't like strangers. The next planet in this system is one you will like, agricultural, low population, they can use immigrants, so there isn't even a customs office." "The name?" The Baron asked. "Amphisbionia." "Never heard of it." "Should you have? Out of thirty-thousand settled planets." "True. But still..." The Bishop seemed troubled and I couldn't understand why. If we didn't like this planet we could liberate enough funds to move on. But some instinct had him on edge. In the end he bribed the purser to use the ship's computer.

When we were toying with our dinner he told me about it.

"Something doesn't smell right about this - smells worse than this food. " This was a horrilying thought. "I can find no record of a planet named Amphisbionia in the galactic guide. And the guide is updated automatically every time we land and hook into a planetary communication net. In addition to that, there is a lock on our next destination. Only the captain has the code to access it." "What can we do?" "Nothing - until after we land. We'll find out then what he is up to." "Can't you bribe one of the officers?" "I already did - that's how I found out that only the captain knows where we are heading. Of course he didn't tell me until after I paid. A dirty trick. I would have done the same thing myself." I tried to cheer him up, but it was no use. I think the food had affected his morale. It would be a good thing to arrive at this planet, whatever it was. Certainly a good thief can make a living in any society. And one thing was certain. The food would have to be better than the sludge we were reluctantly eating now.

We stayed in our bunks until the ship touched down and the green light came on. Our meager belongings were already assembled and we carried them down to the airlock. The captain was operating the controls himself. He muttered as the automatic air analyzer ran through its test; the inner lock would not open until it was finished and satisfied with the results. It finally pinged and flashed its little message at him and he hit the override. The great hatch ground slowly open admitting a whiff of warm and pungent air. We sniffed it appreciatively.

"Here is a stylo," Captain Garth said. The Bishop merely smiled.

The captain led the way and we followed with our bags. It was night, stars were bright above, invisible creatures called from the darkness of a row of trees nearby. The only light was from the airlock.

"Here will do," the captain said, standing on the end of the ramp. The Bishop shook his head as he pointed at the metal surface.

"We are still on the ship. "The ground if you please." They agreed on a neutral patch close to the ramp - but far enough from the ship to foil any attempt to rush us. The Bishop took out the check, accepted the stylo at last, then wrote his careful signature. The captain - ever suspicious! - compared it with the signature above and finally nodded. He walked briskly up the ramp as we picked up our bags - then turned and called out. "They're all yours now!" As the ramp lifted up, out of our reach, powerful lights came on from the darkness, pinning us like moths. Armed men ran towards us as we turned, trapped, lost.

"I knew something was wrong," The Bishop said. He dropped his bags and grimly faced the rushing men.