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“No.”
About the kind of brilliant conversation one could expect from someone who wore his kind of uniform. The silence lengthened as he studied my papers in ever greater detail. If he was trying to frighten me he was succeeding.
“Did you get the porcuswine swill?” Angelina asked.
“Sorry, the shop was all out of it.”
“I will try myself later. We mustn’t let the dear piglet starve.”
“No indeed. Perhaps I could get her a sandwich.”
“An excellent idea-but no pork.”
Our feeble attempt at conversation petered out in the shadow of this grim copper.
“I’ll keep these papers,” he said, stuffing them into his pocket.
“You can’t do that!”
“Of course I can.”
“What do you want them for?”
“You are under suspicion of having alien criminal identification.”
“No way! And why am I under suspicion?”
“Because you are from offplanet. You have arrived recently. You are male and of a certain age. That is enough to make you a suspect.”
“That’s pretty broad grounds to make me a suspect.”
“It is a begi
“Sitting right where you are sitting. I was being interviewed for a television program. In fact that’s how I know about the robbery. The news flash broke into my interview.”
“Your alibi will be checked. Meanwhile I don’t want you to leave this city.”
“Of course I am not going to leave the city. I am performing in the circus here with a performance every night. Thousands of people watch me and applaud wildly.”
“I will look into that alibi as well,” he said coldly.
“It’s not an alibi, it’s the truth.” I dug into my pocket. “Here. A free ticket to tonight’s performance. You will personally see me there.”
“I will personally see you in prison.” He took the ticket and tore it in half and dropped the pieces onto the floor. “I will charge you with attempting to bribe a police officer.”
He brushed his hands together as if he was disposing of something nasty. Stood and started towards the door. Any relief I felt ended when he turned back to me.
“What do you know about the Stainless Steel Rat?” he said.
Instead of screaming out loud and rushing to escape I stared at him with the same cold glare he was using on me. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“It is the alias of a criminal with a record of serious crimes on a number of planets.”
“I am not interested in criminals. I am an honest theurgist who earns a modest living as a theatrical magician.”
I was starting to tap my fingers against my leg. Keep cool! No signs of stress. Put my hands into my pockets. Pulled them out again. Something metallic tinkled to the floor. We all glanced down.
It was the lockpick I had so recently used on Puissanto’s door.
“That is a lockpick! “ the captain said with cold triumph, his eyes locked with mine.
“Of course it is,” Angelina said walking between us, bending to pick it up. The spell was broken.
“I go nowhere without it,” I said calmly. “Look here.”
I strolled across the room and took up the book of imaginary clippings about my totally fake career. Riffled through it, held it out to him.
“The Underwater Magical Escape. See the manacles on my hands. The locks and chains on my legs. The steel cage about me. The fact that I am about to be lowered into the water. Without that lockpick I would very quickly drown. Thank you my dear.”
I took the pick and put it back into my pocket. I could feel that basilisk gaze burning holes into the back of my skull as I turned away. Crossed to the chair and sat down.
The stare continued until he made up his mind.
“It is illegal to possess a lockpick on Fetorr. I am going to have to confiscate the one that you have.” He put his hand out. I shied back.
“You can’t do that! I will drown if I can’t pick the locks in the underwater cage.”
“That is no concern of mine.” He was all heart. When I didn’t oblige him he took out a large gun from his holster and pointed it at me. “I will not ask you a second time.”
Muttering complaints I dug the lockpick out and handed it to him. It vanished as did, happily, the gun.
“I will be back.” He turned and left.
Angelina went to the door, waited a moment then opened it. The hall was empty. I took out my detector and swept the room. The captain had been busy. Two coins, bugs, in the chair where he had been seated. More under the carpeting and in the wastebasket. They sparked and crunched when I stepped on them until the green light on the detector blinked.
“I don’t like it,” I said. “I am begi
“A little overdramatic—but very close to the truth. Let me pour you a drink.”
“My angel. A large one. Thank you.” It helped. I think.
“We had better cancel this tour and leave this planet,” Angelina said. “Weren’t you the one who always said that he who fights and shifts his freight, lives to fight another date?”
“I did-and I meant it. But that was some years ago when I was much faster on my feet. Always on the lookout for a fresh challenge. Right now this old rat is feeling a bit rusty and put-upon. And stubborn. For a lot of reasons, including some I am not sure of, I do not want to back out of this one.”
“The four million credits a day. That’s all you can think about-right?” I nodded reluctant agreement. “Why don’t we forget about it? There is no point in being the richest prisoner in some foul Fetorr jail.”
“There is a certain wisdom in what you say. But let us not quit just yet. What I started to say, before I saw your unwelcome guest, is that I have discovered something interesting about the apparently moronic Puissanto. He has the vocabulary of a college professor, when he does not know he is being overheard. Therefore when he is on stage tonight, and I can’t be disturbed, I am going to take a look into his computer.” I grabbed up the phone.
“I am going to dial up the local database-search and get the specs and documentation on the Eprom-80. As long as they are not a state secret.”
They weren’t-but that did not mean it was easy. Paranoia seemed to rule on Fetorr. I got the phone number of Eprom Ltd. And called them. And spent the usual endless period working my way through recorded voices and punching in the numbers that they gave me. At long last I talked to a human being. And instantly wished I was still talking to the robots.
“An Eprom-80? What’s the serial number?”
“How do I know. The machine is not here and the number on the documentation is lost with the documentation.”
“I don’t know… “
“You don’t-but I do. Can’t you just give me the price and send me the specs? They aren’t secret are they?”
“No-but they are copyrighted. ”
“Of course they are! And so what? They come with every machine you sell. Give price. I’ll send money.”
The repeated use of the word money finally penetrated. In the long run he took the order. By this time my ear was sore. I went and opened a bottle of Old Ear Cure and poured a long one.
It really had been that kind of a day.