The Stainless Steel Rat Joins the Circus

Chapter 5

Once we were aboard the spacer that would take us to Fetorrscoria, the euphoria of the Great Grissini's last great performance quickly wore away. One major problem still faced us. Angelina must have seen my scowl and she tried to jolly me out of it. It was no good. Thoughts of a porcuswine danced in my head. How could I make one of those fine creatures disappear-if I didn't have one in the first place?

"What do you say to a glass of champagne in the Star Bar before lunch?" I growled throatily and she patted my arm. "Yes, dear."

Before we could leave the cabin the message bell pinged and the comscreen lit up. "No doubt vital information about the next lifeboat drill," I sneered as I grimaced-which is not easy to do-at my image in the mirror as I combed my hair.

"Not quite," Angelina said, going over to read it. "It's from James. He's found a porcuswine for us! Full details follow. He has arranged for us to be met as soon as we clear customs. By a man named Igor who has a truck. He knows where we have to go. He closes with best wishes and good luck." She pressed the print button and a copy of the message rolled out of the machine. "He has arranged our entire schedule."

"That's our boy!" I elated fondly. "And I'll take you up on the champagne offer."

The Star Bar was just that. The ceiling was a vast crystal dome, beyond which the stars burnt down upon us from the blackness of interstellar space. Perhaps. I greatly doubted if a hole had been cut in the spacer's hull just to let us see out. It was an illusion and a very good one. We sipped and smacked and plotted. I scribbled notes on the message from James.

"If this spacer is on time, and it has to be due to the laws of celestial mechanics, we land on Fetorr just one day before we are due at the circus. The porcuswine ranch is about five hundred clicks from the spaceport. Then two hundred more to Fetorrscoria. We are cutting it very close."

"We are. But we have no other choice."

"Agreed. So we worry about it after we land." I put the message into my pocket, drained my glass and pushed the bottle away. "I must make the most of this trip and practice every moment. Without booze to awake tremors in my hand."

"But a drink at bedtime?"

"Of course. I don't plan to become a teetotaler."

Thus the days passed quickly. I practiced until my fingers were supple as snakes. Angelina had been very busy shopping in the days before we left. I had been vaguely aware of this at the time, but too tied up with my magic to take any real notice. I was practicing a very complex card manipulation when she emerged from the bedroom.

"Do you like it?" she said. I turned around.

"Zowie! " I enthused and playing cards went in all directions. It was a shocking scarlet one-piece creation, cut high on the thighs, low on the bust and skintight everywhere. I rushed to embrace her but a friendly little fist to the jaw stopped me dead.

"You don't think that it is, well, too revealing for a woman of my age?"

"Your age is the right age," I enthused. "You are gorgeous and desirable and every male past puberty in the audience will be watching you, not me. I can hear the orgone sizzling already."

"The emerald tiara is not too much?"

"Fine. It matches the thingumbobby at your waist."

"I'm not sure," she said, pirouetting prettily before the mirror. "Maybe the green one…"

"You have more outfits like this?"

"Of course."

"Make my day! Let's have a fashion show."

I scrabbled up the cards and put them away. Pulled up an armchair, lit a cigar, then poured a small glass of white wine. She had an outfit for every illusion. Green to match the rusty red of her hopeful porcuswine partner to be. Black and red when she passed me the playing cards. Midnight black when she floated in midair. And thus did a pleasant time ensue before the dinner gong bonged.

The rest of the voyage passed this way. While I honed my magical talents she finalized her costumes. We ate well, slept well-and other than a glass or two of wine with meals the only booze I enjoyed was my evening libation.

Our schedule was going to be tight when we arrived at our destination. I had to take more positive action rather than just wearing running shoes and elbowing past the rest of the passengers. This involved a little financial meeting with the chief purser. A smarmy type given to much dry hand-wiping and white-toothed grinning.

"And how may I be of service to you, sir?"

"You can advise me about my luggage. If we pack our bags the night before we arrive-would you be able to take them then?"

"It will be my great pleasure."

"So if you have them the night before there is no reason why they cannot be unloaded first?" I slipped him fifty credits as I said this.

"As good as done, sir-you have my word on that."

"And some additional information, if you please. Who would you suggest that I should talk to, to insure that my wife and I are first to leave this admirable vessel?"

"Myself, sir! Disembarking is at my discretion." Another banknote vanished.

"I imagine that you make this run very often. Do you have any suggestions about easing our way through customs?"

"It is funny that you should say that, sir. My cousin is a customs agent at the spaceport and-"

Much lighter in pocket, but much more relaxed about our arrival, I returned to our cabin to pack.

Through all this not-too-subtle bribery we were first off the spacer when she landed. First through customs, courtesy of the purser's cousin, where our untouched and unsearched luggage awaited us. Waiting there was a burly type in soiled and wrinkled coveralls who held a sign that read MISTUR DEGRIZZ. I signaled to him and he approached.

"You deGrizz?"

"Me diGriz. Who you?"

"Igor. Come."

I whistled and our luggage followed us, as we followed him out of the terminal into the dusty, fume-filled street outside. Angelina sniffed.

"I don't like this place-nor do I like our monosyllabic friend, Igor. "

"I'm afraid it's that kind of a planet. Mining and heavy manufacturing for the most part. Did you detect a certain tone of desperation in James's last memo?"

"I did. Let us see what kind of transportation he has provided. Uggh! "

Uggh, indeed. The truck was a great, scratched, filthy cubical thing with wheels on all four corners. It had once been painted pink, surely a mistake, and on its side, under a layer of dirt, a message could be read.

IGOR VAN SERVICE-GO ANYWHERE

I hoped that this was true. Igor opened a hatch and pitched our luggage in. Then climbed a ladder to the cab above. The engine rumbled to life and belched a fetid black cloud over us. Through watery eyes I saw his hand appear in the open door where it made a single gesture of invitation before vanishing from sight. We climbed after him, settled onto the scratched and patched seat, stared out of the filthy front window as gears ground somewhere below us. The thing lurched and vibrated, then rumbled forward onto the road.

"Do you know where we are going?" Trying not to let my lip curl at the depressing scenery moving by outside.

"Ungh," Igor said, or something like that.

"We are going to Lortby, right? To the Rashers and Quills Porcuswine Farm there."

After another long period of waiting, this simple query elicited a reluctant and monosyllabic sound of agreement. Eventually something that passed for speech followed.

"Get dirt, pay more."

I suppose that this could be translated as, "If you allow an animal to track filth into my vehicle of any kind, the already preposterously high fee will be even higher." I grunted in return and that was the end of conversation as he knew it.

Factories, smoke stacks and grim walls reluctantly gave way to scrubby countryside of some sort. Mostly swamp. The shoulders of the road made a handy dumpsite, so rubbish of all kinds marked our none-too-swift passage. Angelina and I tried a desultory conversation that soon died away. We bumped and jiggled around on the seat, looking out glazedly at the worn landscape. Some hours, or centuries, later we turned off the main road and down a rutted farm track past a sign that read. RASHERS AND QUILLS, decorated with a not-too-bad illustration of a porcuswine rampant. The legend below informed us that ALL TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT.

Thus assured of a friendly reception I slid down from the vehicle when we stopped. Stretched and groaned, then headed for the only door in the large building that faced onto the yard.

A bell tinkled when I opened the door, and the man behind the desk looked up; same build and demeanor as Igor. I was going to say "Good morning" but quickly changed it to "Ugh," which he ugghed right back.

"Need porcuswine," I said.

"Carcass or quartered?"

"Alive not dead. In one piece."

This stopped him and his forehead lined with the unaccustomed effort of thought which finally produced speech.

"No sell alive."

"Now you do." I rolled a hundred-credit coin across the desk which he snatched up.

"Against law."

"Law just changed." Another coin followed the first. With a great effort a smile slowly appeared on his granite features; he stumbled to his feet and headed for the door. Angelina was waiting outside with fire in her eye.

"One more minute with Igor and I would have killed him. I could see the mute passion building in those bloodshot eyes. We needed a driver. So instead of zonking him here I am. Have you arranged everything?"

"I sincerely hope so!" I said with faked bonhomie. "This other brilliant conversationalist is taking us to the porcuswine. Shall we follow him?" With the thought of visiting these fine creatures my good spirits did return. "We must never forget that they have traveled with mankind to the stars. Providing protection-as well as nourishment. A cross between the deadly and spiny porcupine and the mighty swine, they are a beauty to behold. Ahh!" I said as we entered the building and were face-to-face with a gigantic boar. Angelina's nostrils widened; she did not completely share my enthusiasm for the creatures.

This was indeed the swine of my dreams! His reddish quills rose when he saw us, tiny eyes glittered with anger. A drop of saliva rolled down one tusk and dripped to the floor. "Sooey," I intoned softly, "Sooey, sooey—good swine."

And I reached between the bars and scratched him between the ears. He rattled his quills and grunted with happiness. Porcuswine can't reach this spot and just love to be scratched.

Angelina had seen me do this before, but the swinemeister bulged his eyes and looked as. though he was suffering a coronary.

"Watch out! He's a killer!"

"I am sure of it. But only for those who deserve killing. To the rest of mankind the porcuswine is loyal, protectiveyea, even reverent. Good swine," I said, admiring the immense form. Loath to leave, but I had to. Fine as this boar was, he was too big for our theatrical act. "Need smaller one."

We went deeper into the swinery, passed wary-eyed mothers with piglets, more and more of these lovely creatures. We turned a corner and I gasped and halted. There in the pen before me was the most endearing yearling I had ever seen. Tiny eyes sparkled with good cheer, delicate quills all—arustle. She trotted over on tiny hoofs when I called, burbled with happiness when I scratched the right spot.

A deal was struck, more credits changed hands, a piece of rope was produced. She took to the leash at once, trotted delicately ahead of us as we returned to our vehicle.

"A swine of delight," I said. "We shall call her Gloriana."

"Who was that?" Angelina asked, instantly suspicious. "One of your early girlfriends?"

"Never! It is a name from legend, mythology. Gloriana, the goddess of the barnyard, often depicted with a piglet on her lap-"

"You are making this up!"

"Never!"

"If I didn't know you better, Jim diGriz, I would think that you were a closet bestialist with your mad adoration of these creatures."

"When I was a small lad they were my only friends."

"Well you are a big lad now, so you can keep your friendship priorities in order. Let us make tracks to the circus."

I let down the ramp in the rear of our transport and Gloriana trotted in happily. There was a little window that looked in from the cab, so I could keep an eye on her. But she was very self-possessed and instantly went to sleep.

I will add nothing about our trip to Fetorrscoria. Some things are best quickly forgotten, dropped out of the memory cells, to shrink and vanish. Our spirits leapt, or at least stirred feebly, when we entered the city limits of Fetorrscoria.

It was well after dark by the time we pulled up before the large building that was our destination. Igor dropped our luggage into the gutter, then scowled down at Gloriana as she trotted past.

"Pig poo in back. Twenty credits more."

I looked in back and shook my head. "No poo, no pay." I passed him the agreed amount. He counted it slowly, then shoved it into his pocket. Then his brow furrowed in unaccustomed thought. Memory surfaced sluggishly.

"I see poo. Pay!"

"I no see poo, you no see pay."

"You pay!" He waved a granite fist in my direction and lurched forward. Angelina smiled.

"My turn, if you please."

I had no time to answer before an extended foot caught him in the ankle. As he fell past, her joined hands thudded into the back of his neck. He hit the road with a satisfying thud.

As he stumbled to his feet muttering foul oaths I pointed at his truck and said, "Go. Before it gets a lot worse."

I almost hoped he would try something. He had offended my Angelina and I do not take that lightly.

I wasn't the only one who felt that way. There was a blur of ruddy quills as Gloriana shot forward. He shrieked and bounced about on one foot, clutching the ankle where a sharp tusk had made its impact. Still muttering he climbed up to the cab. The now empty vehicle vanished into the night, Igor's pockets heavy with my coin. Gloriana snuffed with pleasure as her nose rustled through a trash bin beside the door. I pressed the button under the sign reading COLOSSEO STAGE ENTRANCE. The door rattled and opened and a bewhiskered face appeared.

"Whatcha want?"

"Is this the present home of Bolshoi's Big Top?"

"Yeah."

"Then swing the portal wide, my good man. You have the pleasure of addressing none other than the Mighty Marvell!"

"You're late."

"Never too late for the entranced audience that will very soon await the Mighty Marvell with bated breath. Guide us to our dressing rooms, my friend."

He led us into the depths of the Colosseo. I followed with Angelina on my arm, Gloriana trotting at our side, the luggage coming up behind. My new and illustrious career was about to begin.

"You're late," another voice said. I turned.

"Cerberus at your portal said exactly the same thing: And you are…"

"Harley Davidson. We've been in touch." He stepped into the dressing room and we shook hands. He was a tall, darkhaired man looking quite dapper in his ringmaster's garb. From shiny black boots to even shinier top hat he radiated showmanship.

"I hope that you are as good as your reviews," he said.

I hoped so too since they were all well-planted fakes.

"Even better!" I tried to exude charm and emit positive vibes.

"Last magic act we had the guy was too drunk to go on most nights."

"I assure you that I am a lifetime teetotaler. May I introduce my wife, Angelina?"

Like a true showman he took her hand and kissed it.

"And this is Gloriana."

He looked quizzically at her, but did not kiss her. "I like animals in an act. Gives them style. Do you know the Great Grissini? He had some routines like yours."

"Know him! He is my mentor. Taught me all that I know." "That's good to hear. A quality act. There are a couple of hours yet before the first curtain. Take a rest. You look bushed. The call boy will give you plenty of time."

"Is there a restaurant nearby?" Angelina asked. "It has been a long time between meals."

"None that I would recommend. But there is a list of takeaways by your phone. They aren't too bad.. ."

"You have been avoiding me, Harley. We must have a talk."

The deep voice rumbled like a volcano as the man stepped into the room. He was my height, but must surely have been twice as wide. His head was shaved bald, his trailing mustache long and black. I expected his clothes to split when he moved because his muscles rose and knotted like tree trunks; his forearm was thicker than my thigh. I recognized him from his pictures. The man we had come countless light-years to see.

"Well met I say!" I said. "You can only be the galaxy famous Puissanto. It is indeed a great pleasure to meet you. I am the Mighty Marvell." I stepped forward and held out my hand in greeting. He extended only two fingers and I could barely get my hand around them. I squeezed hard but they were as unyielding and inflexible as rods of steel. His little red eyes blinked and his forehead furrowed in thought.

"You heard of me?"

"In the farthest star systems they sing your praises."

The slightest of smiles came and went, accepting my blatant flattery as revealed truth. The scowl was back when he turned to Davidson.

"How come the guards won't let me out of the building?"

"Because you are barred from the city, that's why. And every credit of the bribes that I laid around, to keep you out of jail, is coming out of your salary."

"Nothing to do here all day."

"Nothing for you to do in the city."

"It didn't happen like they said."

"Of course it did! Do you know how many witnesses I had to bribe to back up your lies? And it has happened to you too often before this, as you know very well."

"They mugged me."

"What? Twenty-eight steelworkers mug one bald-headed joker? Three in hospital, all unconscious when the police came."

"Just having fun …"

"For the last time. One more occasion like this last one and you are out of here and looking for a new circus."

Harley had nerve-and guts enough for three-standing up to this monster like he did. For a moment I thought it would be murder and destruction right before our eyes. Puissanto tensed his muscles, his biceps rose up, veins writhing under the skin like snakes. Then he muttered something better unheard, turned and stalked away.

"This happen often?" I asked as the tension drained away.

"Too often. He gets his walking papers when this booking is done. I have enough trouble with the hippogriffs." He looked gloomily down at Gloriana. "And this one better be housetrained."

Then he was gone and Angelina closed the door behind him, sat down and said "Whoosh. "

"And I second that."

She smiled. "Welcome to show business," she said.