The Stainless Steel Rat Goes to Hell

Chapter 13

"Talking—or mimicking" Angelina said. "Talking—talking—talking." Which wasn't much of an answer. The eye—stalks still swayed in our direction—as did another organ or mushrooming growth that started to form under the eyes. It began as a swelling, then opened up into a sort of trumpet—shaped flower. This moved back and forth as though searching for something, then turned and pOinted directly at me. I stepped backColor, sound. movement, terror. Pain and red sounds, sharp memories. A scream… a shout… Then it ended and I realized that the person shouting was me. Hands on my arms, I blinked my eyes clear, saw that Angelina was holding on to me.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I… don't know. What did you see?"

"You closed your eyes and, well, just dropped to the ground. Then you just sort of scrunched up, shouting and twisting. It only lasted a moment."

"That thing, I said, my breathing rough. "It was in my brain, trying to communicate or something. Big and strong—"

"Did it try to hurt you?"

"Not at all, quite the opposite. There was curiosity there but I had no sensation of threat or menace. Whatever it wanted it, well, didn't find. It just pulled out. Perhaps I'm not in its intellectual league."

While . 1 was talking the flower growth closed and disappeared. Next to it the water—carrier that had been growing larger stopped and began a sort of twisting motion. Then, with a plopping sound, it pulled free of the surface. Jumped to the ground and hurried away.

"It's the queen thing." Angelina said. "Growing parts of the colony."

"Or maybe it is the colony."

After that one attempt to communicate the creature never tried again. The eyes were withdrawn as though it had lost all interest. But it knew we were there because one of the leg creatures came hurrying into the cave with two of the red fruit we had seen growing outside. It plopped one into an opening in the giant creature's hide—then dropped then other one in front of us before rushing outside again.

"Thanks, Queenie," I said. "Very kind of you. Is it chow time? Looks like the one we ate before—and our friend here just ate one. Shall we give it a try?" I squatted down to look more closely at it. I prodded it with my finger and it split open. I licked the juice from my hand. "Tastes very much like the other one we had to fight for."

"Why not? If that murderous thing in the clearing is offering tempting goodies I suppose they must be edible. Give me a piece, if you please."

We finished it between us. Then, feeling very much ignored, we went back out of the cave into the alien garden.

"What about another One?" I asked.

"You're on."

None of the scurrying creatures came near us—nor took any notice when I reached up high and plucked another red fruit. We sat comfortably against the rock wall and ate it. It was very pulpy and liquid, food and drink at the same time.

"Now what?" Angelina asked, licking the last drop of juice from her fingers.

"A good question. And I suggest that we sleep on it."

"One of us at a time though. I still don't trust this queen—of—the—hive creature."

"Then we'll get out of here, find a secluded spot away from the path. We can always come back when we get hungry."

Angelina yawned gracefully. "You are on, husband mine. It certainly has been a long day."

We did this for two of the short days and nights. Sleeping, then going back for more fruit, mulling over our options, very limited indeed, and trying to figure out just what we should do next. With great effort at cogitation, we managed to never reach any important conclusions. Then we would sleep and start the whole process over again. On the third daylet Angelina came up with an observation that finally forced us to make a decision. She had been on this exotic world longer than I had—and had gone much longer without a decent meal.

"You are losing weight, Jim. And so am I." Which was true, but I just did not want to mention it to her. "The fruit is filling all right—but do you notice how quickly you get hungry again after eating?"

"I have been thinking about it, wondering really."

"Stop wondering. Water is water, hydrogen and oxygen. Since we don't get thirsty we must have been getting enough to drink from the fruit. But the food is a different matter. Who knows what kind of elements and molecules make up this fruit. I don't think we are ingesting any nourishment at all. If we stay here and keep on eating this stuff—we are just going to curl up and die of starvation in the end."

I sighed unhappily. "I'm forced to agree. The idea was tickling at my brain but I thought I was being stupid. It's been sort of fun here in a completely alien way. Back to Glass land?"

"Nothing else to do. And you have strange tastes if you think our stay here was fun. I say back to civilization and some good food and a hot bath. Let's head for that clearing where we arrived. We'll see if anyone has found your message yet."

I waved as we left. "Bye. Thanks for the hospitality." Of course there was no response. We went down the hill, skirted the killer angler, and swam back to the mainland.

"Onward—to the glass forest," I said, trying to be as cheerful as I could. "Coypu will have the machine analyzed by now and will quickly build one of his own. Which he will then use to track us down and rescue us. We'll be settling down to a steak dinner before you know it."

After three more of the local days had gone by I wanted to eat those words—since there was nothing else to eat on this world of Glass. My wallet was just where I had left it, my glass arrow and message undisturbed. I ground the crystal fragments to smithereens, growling darkly.

After that—it was just waiting. The crystal glade in the forest remained empty. No one came, nothing happened at all. We stayed there, making only the briefest of forays back to the ocean to drink. Time dragged by so sluggishly that we felt we were making about the same progress as the crystalline carnivore. It was catching up on its fleeing prey, but so slowly, slowly. Another night fell and was followed by another sunny day. And another. I took a second notch in my belt and tried to ignore the growing thinness of Angelina's face. By the fifth day I began to worry.

"There must be something else we can do," I complained.

"I don't see what. You're the one who told me that all we had to do was wait. You must be patient."

"I'm not!"

"You never were. But you must make the effort or you will worry yourself into an ulcer."

"I would rather drink myself into an ulcer!" The thought of strong spirits and cold beer got my spittle flowing. I spat into the forest and watched a stem of grass dissolve. Good thing it never rained here.

I awoke with the sun on the morning of our sixth day of waiting, watching its green—striped disk shining through the multicolored foliage. It was no longer exciting to look at, nor did I wonder anymore what made the stripes. Angelina was pale and drawn, moaning under her breath as she slept. I didn't want to wake her; sleep was our only escape from hunger. And the endless waiting. I walked down the path a bit and looked out over the ocean. The waves surged turgidly against the cliffs; nothing else moved. Depression struggled onto the back of depression. I sighed mightily and went back to the clearing.

When Angelina did wake up we talked a bit. I was thirsty but she wasn't, so I walked down to the beach to drink. There was nothing that we could carry water in. Therefore we took turns drinking so that someone would always be in the clearing. Waiting.

The walk was tiring—but it had to be done. I drank my fill, then a little more. Filling the stomach helped for awhile with the hunger. The walk back, uphill part of the way, was particularly exhausting. And I had to walk slowly or I would have an oxygen jag.

"Home is the drinker, home from the sea!" I called out. A feeble attempt at humor. "Hello!"

Maybe she was asleep again. I shut up but walked faster. Stopped. Frozen. The cleared area was empty. "Angelina!"

This was the blackest of blackest moments that I had ever experienced. If Coypu had his machine working—he could have saved her. That had to be it. Coypu had done this, not Slakey. Could that be it? But Coypu was an unknown. If the marines had grabbed a machine, and if it were intact, and if Coypu had built a machine An awful lot of ifs. But Slakey had plenty of machines and knew that we were here. He could have returned and seized Angelina and left me here to starve quietly. Was it Slakey who got here first and grabbed her off this world?

"Who did this? Where are you?"

I shouted aloud, brimming over with frustration and anger. And fear. It must be Coypu. It had to be him.

I hoped. But if it had been him why had he taken just Angelina and left me here? There should have been a message, at least a message. I frantically kicked about among the broken crystal. No note, no traces of anything.

For a very, very long time nothing happened. I was giggling with fear. Too much oxygen. Slow down, Jim, take it easy. I sat in the cleared area where we slept and breathed more slowly. With one last snicker the laughter died. Depression took over.

The days on Glass were short—but this was the longest one I had ever lived through. It was growing dark and I must have nodded off with my head slumped on my chest. Fear, worry, hunger, everything. Too much, far more than too much.

"Dad—over here!" Bolivar said. I blinked my eyelids, still half asleep, dreaming.

"Are you all right? We have to move fast."

No dream! I set a new record for the broken glass sprint. Slammed into him and almost knocked him from his feet. We were falling—backward into a brightly lit hotel room, onto a soft, carpeted floor. I just lay there, looking up at Professor Coypu seated before a great mass of bread boarded electronics.

And Angelina smiling down on me.

"I hope they gave you something nice to eat," I said, inanely, still not believing that it was all over and she was all right. She knelt and took my hands in hers.

"Sorry it took so long. The professor says that he has trouble aligning the machine."

"Calibration errors, cumulative, entropy slippage," Coypu said. "Gets better each time though."

"Something to eat, Dad," Bolivar said, helping me to my feet and handing me a giant roast meat sandwich. Saliva sported as I growled and tore off an immense bite, chewed, paradisical. I took the proffered beer bottle by the neck and drank and drank until the back of my nose hurt from the cold.

"Here, sit at the table," Angelina said, pulling out a chair. "And don't eat so fast or you'll make yourself sick—"

"Warfle?" I said.

"—and don't talk with your mouth full. Eat slowly, that's better, while I tell you what happened. It was Bolivar who came for me. No time to wait, he said. The alignment was difficultjust seconds. I held back but he grabbed me and that was that. It took so long to get through to you again, I knew what you were feeling. But it is all all right now. We are all together this time. The end of worrying."

"The beginning of a lot of big worrying for some of us," Inskipp snarled in his friendly and ingratiating way as he walked into the room. He dropped into a chair and glared menacingly.

"All right for you people to relax and cheer each other up with stories of your strange adventures. You forget that the rest of us are weighed down with responsibilities. Since this whole mess began we have been behind the eight ball, stuck in the mud, up the creek paddleless and getting nowhere as fast as a turgid turtle."

Instead of pointing out the tangled syntax of his mixed metaphor I reached for another sandwich. Priorities exist. He chuntered on.

"We have been tottering from calamity to calamity, our hand forced at every turn. Not one of the Slakeys has been apprehended. As soon as we close in on one of them another pops up and whips him away. All of our efforts so far have been spent in getting you out of trouble, diGriz. And the costs keep growing. I imagine it was your smart idea to rent this entire hotel, the Vaska Hulja Holiday Heaven, as center of this operation. Do you know how many millions of credits it has cost so far?"

"More than the gross annual income of a rich planet—I hope!" I belched rotundly. "Sorry. Ate too fast. Another beer? Thanks, James. And every credit well spent, Inskipp, you old skinflint. Rockets have roared, Space Marines have exercised furiously, news broadcasters have been working overtime, the galaxy is an exciting place and zillions of happy citizens have been entertained delightfully. You should bless me as a galactic asset instead of whining about your overdraft. Nothing but good has come Out of this operation."

He turned bright red and bulged his eyes, opened his mouth. But Angelina spoke first.

"You are both right and wrong, Jim. It looks like Slakey has been put Out of business. The search is still on, but it has been a long time since the detectors found any trace of him—on any civilized planet that we have contacted. The search is now spreading to every recorded world, as our great leader, H. P. Inskipp, has kindly pointed out."

She smiled but Inskipp was immune to the kind word and the gentle touch. "I'm going to pull the plug and cut our losses," he said. I was suddenly very angry.

"No you are not, you monetarial moron! All of the civilized planets pay large sums to keep the Special Corps in businessand they never ask you for any kind of accounting. We are now faced with one of the biggest threats that mankind has ever faced—and you want to cut and run."

"What threat? What can one man do that can threaten a thousand worlds?"

"Think!" I said, grabbing up another beer to hold down the sandwiches. "Professor Justin Slakey may have started out as a top scientist and a genius. But this popping back and forth between universes has not only addled his mutual brains but in some way has multiplied his numbers. Do you want these madmen to go on multiplying and causing more and more trouble? We know he has sent people to Hell to provide lunch for his insane personification there. At the very least Slakey is a mass murderer. Who will go on committing murder and who knows what other forms of insane evil until he is stopped. And more than that…"

I really had their attention now. All eyes were on me. All mouths mute as I raised the bottle and drank in dramatic silence. Then raised a hortatory finger.

"Much much more than that. Look at all the lengths he went to, all the churches and organizations he created. All the masses of money he has collected. And why did he do all this? For the money, that's obvious. The sums involved are staggering. So ask yourself—what does he want the money for? What are his plans?

"Anyone who thinks they are for the mutual benefit of mankind may leave the room. All who stay will have the pleasure of hearing how we can find Slakey and stop him.

"Now—would you like to know how that can be done?"