“Angelina mine! Light of my life! More beautiful with each passing day!” Which was true enough; she was curved and warm and lovely, with more of her delicate pink skin out of the holiday outfit than in it. I seized her hands and kissed her fingers passionately and all of the tourists cheered while she smiled and nodded.

  The Stainless Steel Rat for President 13

  “That’s more like it,” she said. “A little holiday from crime will do us both a world of good.”

  “Then we were on the ground and the lock was opened;

  warm air and sweet music rolled in from outside. I settled my camera around my neck, put on my sunglasses, took Angelina by the arm and joined the ecstatic throng. Their happiness

  was catching. Angelina caught it, smiling and laughing with the others, humming along with the catchy music. I was immune. I chortled and grimaced with the best of them, but inside it was the same old hot-tempered and cold-blooded diGriz who peeped out at the world.

  But it was hard to be a curmudgeon in a place like this. The spaceport was sited at the ocean’s edge; the salt tang in the air was delicious and sharp. The sun was as warm as advertised. Smiling native girls, bare-busted and buxom, greeting the tourists with wreaths of flowers and tiny bottles of some golden beverage. I pocketed the bottle and sniffed the flowers, pretending indifference to the mammalian magnificence on all sides, knowing full well that Angelina had her steely eyes on me. The crowd of voyagers moved forward so smoothly that within a few moments we were facing the official at passport control. He was as brown-skinned and smiling as the girls, but was wearing a shirt, no doubt to demonstrate his executive position.

  “Bonvenu al faraiso-Aqui,” he said, extending his hand. “Viaj pasportoj, mi petas.”

  “So you speak Esperanto on this planet,” I said, responding in the same language as I passed over my interstellar identity card. Forged of course.

  “Not everyone,” he said, still smiling, as he slipped the card into the machine before him. “Our language is the beautiful Espanol. But everyone you will meet will speak Esperanto, have no fear.” He looked at the machine’s screen while he talked, which of course revealed nothing except the blandest untrue information about me. When he returned the card he pointed to the gadget-covered camera about my neck.

  “That is indeed a fine photographic apparatus you have there.”

  “It should be—cost me more credits than you see in a year I bet, ho-ho.”

  “Ho-ho,” ;he echoed, the smile not quite so sincere now. “May I look at this machine?”

  14 The Stainless Steel Rat for President

  “Why? It’s just a camera.” “There are certain regulations about cameras, you see.” “Why? Got something to hide?”

  The smile was definitely pasted on now and his fingers

  were twitching. I smiled back—then passed over the camera. “Careful now, that’s a delicate machine.”

  He took it from me and the back instantly sprang open. As it had been rigged to do. Coils of film rolled out. I grabbed it back.

  “Now look what you’ve gone and done!” I wailed. “Spoiled all the film of my wife and our friends on the ship, and everything.”

  I struggled with the film and ignored his apologies—and walked past_him with Angelina at my side. All according to plan. Our luggage was clean and we had no concealed devices about our persons. But the camera was a masterpiece of complicated gadgetry. It would take pictures—and do a number of other interesting things, all of which were strictly illegal. The day was starting well.

  “My goodness, look at that!” Angelina squealed, an exact imitation of the other squeals rising on all sides. “Are they dangerous?” “What are they?”

  “Please, ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention. ” A uniformed guide spoke to us through a voice amplifier. “My name is Jorge and I am your tourist representative. If you have any questions, please come to me. I will now

  answer the first question that I know you are all asking. These friendly creatures between the traces of the little wagons are known as caballos in our language. Their history is lost in the midst of time, but the story is told that they came with us from the legendary planet called Earth, or Dirt, the fabled home of mankind. They are our friends, harmless creatures who pull our wagons and till our fields. Unprotesting and happy, they will convey you to your hotels. We leave!”

  The cabaUos, and their rickety wagons, combined to provide one of the most uncomfortable modes of transportation I had ever had the misfortune to experience. And they weren’t caballos at all but hay-burning horses which I had encountered before during an unplanned trip through time to Earth, the very real and unlegendary home of all mankind. But I wasn’t mentioning that in the present company. Who, despite

  The Stainless Steel Rat for President 15

  the discomfort of the journey, were laughing and calling out shrilly to each other. Even Angelina seemed to be enjoying herself. I felt like a skeleton at a wedding.

  “Whee,” I said, attempting to get into the spirit of the thing. I dug into my pocket and extracted the bottle of amber liquid the welcoming girl had given me. Undoubtedly some loathsome native concoction made from rotted fruit or old socks. I uncapped it and drained it. “Whee!” I said, and meant it this time. I called to Jorge who had the nerve to actually straddle and ride one of the horses. He thundered

  over at my command. I held up the bottle for his examination.

  “What is this stuff, pardner? Liquid sunshine? Best booze I have tasted since I was weaned.”

  “We are pleased that you like it. It is made from the fermented juice of the cana and is called ron.” “Well, baby, this ron stuff is something else again. Only thing wrong with it is that it comes in such small bottles.”

  “In all sizes,” he laughed, and dug into his saddle bag to extract another bottle of more reasonable dimension.

  “How can I ever thank you?” I enthused, snatching it from his grip.

  “Easily. It will appear on your bill.” He galloped away, “Not going to get polluted this early in the day, are you?” Angelina asked as I lowered the bottle from my lips and sighed.

  “Never, my sweet. Just getting in the old holiday mood. Join me?” “Later. I’m enjoying the scenery now.”

  It was indeed something to see. Our road wandered in easy loops down through green fields to the shore. The sand glistened cleanly in the sun and the blue ocean beckoned. Very nice. But where were the locals? Other than the drivers and Jorge there were none of them in sight. We were getting the tourist treatment all right. Fine, Jim, enjoy it for the moment. Don’t .be a spoilsport.

  “Why look there, papa,” one of my fellow tourists called out in ringing tones, “Aren’t they just too cute for words?” I looked there and didn’t think they were cute at all. If anything they looked kind of miserable despite the smiles directed our way. A group of men and women were working in the field beside the road. Cutting down the tall green plants with long and lethal-looking knives. The sun was hot, the work hard, and if they weren’t fatigued and drenched

  16 The Stainless Steel Rat for President

  with sweat they weren’t human. I raised the camera and clicked off some shots.

  Our driver turned about in his seat when he heard the buzz of the mechanism—so I photographed him as well. For

  a moment his fixed smile almost slipped, then his white teeth shone in a grin.

  “You must save your film for the beautiful gardens and the beautiful hotel,” he said.

  “Why? Is there anything wrong with taking pictures of the people working in the fields?” “No, of course not, but it is so uninteresting.” “Not to the people there. They looked tired. How many hours a day do they work?” * “I have no way of knowing those things.” “What do they get paid?”

  I was talking to his back. He shook the reins and did not answer me. I caught Angelina’s eye and winked. She nodded back.

  “I think I’ll try some of that ron now,” she said.

  The hotel was as luxurious as promised, our quarters expensively attractive. Our luggage was waiting—well-searched no doubt—and I left Angelina to do the unpacking. Since I was

  sure that all of my fellow tourists were male chauvinist pigs— unlike me—1 was forced to fall into that role no matter how personally unattractive I found it.

  “See you around when you finish that, honey,” I said, then quickly slipped out the door before I could hear her forceful rejoinder.

  I pottered about the grounds, looked in on the bar, then stopping awhile by the swimming pool. I started to take a photograph of a few of the attractively nude female sunbathers, then desisted when a chill passed through me at the thought of Angelina’s reaction if she happened to run across this picture. Very possessive, my wife, and I loved it. I think. I wandered on and found the tourist shop.

  It took an effort not to shudder at the little ships made of gilded clamshells, the cutesy sailor caps lettered with inspiring messages such as KISS ME YOU MAD, PASSIONATE FOOL! and KEEP ON CLANKING! With averted eyes I passed them and went on to a section filled with souvenir cards and guide books. I was looking them over when a soft voice spoke in my ear.

  “May I help you, sir?”

  The Stainless Steel Rat for President 17

  Lovely, young, limpid eyes, fall of figure, golden of skin, ruby-lipped and as exotic as a tiger . . ,

  “You certainly can!” I said hoarsely, then restrained my enthusiasm. Not with Angelina on the same planet! “I want

  … that is I want a guide book.”

  “We have many excellent ones. Anything in particular?” “Yes. A history of ParaisoAqui. Not a propaganda puff for tourists, but something real. Do you have anything like that?”

  She penetrated me with a low and smoky gaze—before turning to the shelves. When she turned back she had a thick volume in her hand that she extended to me.

  “I think you will find what you want in here,” she said before turning lithely and walking slowly away.

  To work, Jim! I told myself, pulling my eyeballs away from her fascinating form and fixing them on the book before me.

  A Social and Economic History of ParaisoAqui. Wonderful. Sounded like a best seller. I flipped through it and instantly found the piece of paper between its pages. There were block letters printed on it which I could read without removing it from its lair.

  BEWARE! DO NOT BE SEEN WITH THIS!

  A sudden shadow obscured the page; I closed the book and looked up. A heavyset local stood before me. Smiling insincerely.

  “I would like that book,” he said, extending his hand.

  I could see the word as clearly as if he had it painted on his forehead. COP. That was the word. Policeman. A familiar breed around the galaxy.

  “My goodness, what do you want my poor little book for?” I asked.

  “That is not your concern. Give.”

  “No. ” I stepped back, trembling with mock fear. He smiled coldly at this and reached out to take the book from my cowardly hands.

  Mv holiday was beeinnine at last!

  Chapter 4

  I let him get both hands on the book before I reached out and grabbed his rather prominent nose and gave it a strong tweak. For no reason other than sadism, I am forced to admit. He roared with rage, revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth badly in need of dental attention. Then his mouth closed, as did his eyes, as he dropped heavily to the floor. A strong finger jabbed firmly into the nerve ganglion of the solar plexus will produce instant unconsciousness. I turned

  away from the scene of this minor triumph to find one of the locals, in hotel staff uniform, standing behind me. Eyes like

  saucers, mouth slightly agape.

  “He must have been very tired to fall asleep like that,” I said. “But this planet is so relaxing. I want to buy this book. ” He biinked down at the cover and found his voice. “I am sorry, but that is not one of our books.”

  Now it was my turn to blink. “It must be. I saw the other clerk take it from the shelf. ” “There is no other clerk. Just myself.”

  Realization penetrated. I shrugged and turned to leave. No clerk and no book. I had been set up, that was obvious. And

  as soon as sleeping beauty recovered the minions of the law would be howling on my tail. How nice of them to supply

  some diversions for me on this boring holiday world. Angelina was just slipping into a bathing suit when I returned, which instantly triggered my libido. After a brisk session of kissing and smooching she gently pushed me away.

  “We must go on holiday more often if it will bring out the healthy beast in you like that. What is the book?” “Nothing at all. I just picked it up. Let us go for a stroll on the beach so I can see if your swimsuit matches the sand.” I produced a roll of the eyes as I said this. She nodded slightly, showing she understood.

  “Wonderful. Let me find my sandals.”

  18

  The Stainless Steel Rat for President 19

  We exited in silence and it wasn’t until we were walking at the water’s edge, far from any of the buildings, that she spoke.

  “Do you think the room is bugged?”

  “Don’t know. I just didn’t want to chance it when I opened this book.” I explained what had happened as I found the note and slipped it from between the pages. There were a few brief lines of writing inside it that we read in silence.

  The people of this planet desperately need your help. Aid us, we beg. Please walk on the beach alone at 2400 this night.

  There was no signature. I bent and scooped up a handful of water and pulped the note in it, then kicked the shreds into the sand as I walked.

  “I wonder who they are?” Angelina asked. I nodded solemn agreement to this.

  “That is the important question, isn’t it? I was obnoxious to the passport official, took photographs of the laboring peasantry—and asked nosy questions. My presence is known. I am contacted. But, as you so rightly ask—by whom? This note could be from the desperate citizens of ParaisoAqui, anxious that the galaxy be informed of their plight …” “Or it could be a trap set by the security forces to get you into trouble.”

  “My thoughts exactly. But I have no choice. Behind the barn at midnight to meet my destiny. Though it may be difficult.”

  “Why?” she asked, squinting deliciously up at me in the actinic glare of the sun.

  “Because that heavy is going to come looking for me when he recovers consciousness. We don’t know who left the note— but I am certain of the policeman’s identity. “

  “Then that takes care of your midnight appointment. When the police come for you, why then you just lead them a merry chase, something I know you always enjoy. And I will keep the appointment in your place.” “Dearest! The danger!”

  She smiled warmly and squeezed my arm tenderly. “How sweet! You’re worried about me.”

  “No, not in the slightest. Just concerned for the safety of this other lot if they try some funny business with you.”

  20 The Stainless Steel Rat for President

  “Beast,” she said, her gentle grip changing to an iron claw that bit deep into my bicep. Then she smiled. “But you’re right, of course. Things have been quiet. I rather hope that whoever is coming does try on something funny.” “It’s settled then.” I rubbed at my bruised arm. “Let’s get back to the room and order up some food. I don’t want to do

  a lot of running around on an empty stomach. ” The first thing we saw when we came into the room was the unconscious man stretched out on the floor beside the bed, his arms still reaching towards my camera which was resting innocently in the middle of the counterpane.

  “That’s number one,” I said. “He let himself in to wait for

  us, then passed the time by trying to take a look at the camera. Automatic sleeping gas release got him.” “Police,” Angelina said, going quickly through his pockets. “Identification, gun, blackjack, handcuffs, hunting knife and stun grenades. A very nasty type.”

  “Agreed. All is not paradise on ParaisoAqui. You had better keep the camera with you. I’ll just slip a few items out of it to take with me. Now let us order the food before we have any more visitors.”

  Room service was fast and efficient. Within a few minutes the waiter arrived, wheeling in a trolley heavy-laden with succulent goodies. Unhappily two uniformed policemen wheeled in right behind him.

  “Leave this room at once,” Angelina said, stepping forward to block their way. “You have not been invited in.” The waiter cringed back and I began to quickly slap together a sandwich. It wasn’t going to be eat and run—but on the run.

  “Move aside woman,” the first blue-jawed and ugly copper said. If he had left it at that he would have been much happier. But he made the mistake of putting one meaty hand

  on her shoulder to push her aside.

  He had time for a single pained shriek, I heard the unmistakable crackle of breaking bone, before he dropped unconscious onto the carpet. The second policeman was drawing his gun as I laid down the sandwich, but before I could reach him he was laid down by his companion. The waiter fled and Angelina, smiling happily, closed the door behind him. I finished a second sandwich, wrapped them both in a napkin, then added a bottle of ron to my lunchtime arrangements.

  “Time for me to leave,” I said, bending over the sleeping beauties and touching the backs of their necks with the

  The Stainless Steel Rat for President 21

  slaphypo. “I’ve given them both knockout shots, good for a day at least. We can’t have them waking up and identifying

  you as their assailant. At least not until after the meet at midnight. “

  I kissed her warmly and a sudden pounding on the door sounded an echo to my osculation.

  “Better find another way out,” I said and strolled out onto the balcony. Angelina followed nibbling delicately on a drumstick. We were twenty stories up, the wall smooth and unclimbable. No problem at all. “Hold this for a moment, if

  you please,” I said, handing her my luncheon pack.

  It was the work of a moment to slip over the edge of the balcony, to hang by my hands, to swing and land lightly on the balcony of the room directly below, Angelina dropped the picnic pack into my waiting grasp and blew me a kiss. Things were going well, very well indeed.