A Stainless Steel Rat Is Born

"You just got a new pusher," I told them, and there were quick nods of agreement. I pointed to the nearest one. "What's my name?" "Pusher," he answered instantly. "Just don't turn your back on that one when he comes to. " "Will you help me?" His grin exposed blackened, broken teeth. "Won't help you fight. Warn you though if you don't beat us the way he did. " "No beating. You all help?" All of them nodded agreement.

"Good. Then your first assignment will be to throw the old pusher out of this cart. I don't want to be too close when he comes to." They did this with enthusiasm, and added a few kicks on their own initiative.

"Thank you, James, I appreciate the help," The Bishop said. "My thinking was that you would probably have to fight him sooner or later, so why not sooner, with myself as distraction. And our rise in this society has begun-for you have already climbed out of the basic slave category. Suffering satellites-what is that?" I looked where he pointed and my eyes popped just as far out as his. It was a machine of some kind, that much was obvious. It was advancing slowly towards us, rattling and clanking and emitting fumes. The operator swivelled it about in front of the cart as his assistant jumped down and joined the two together. There was a jolt and we slowly got underway.

"Look closely, Jim, and remember," he said. "You are seeing something from the dawn of technology, long forgotten and lost in the midst of time. That landcar is powered by steam. It is a stearncar, as I live and breathe. You know, I am beginning to think that I will enjoy it here." I was not as fascinated by neolithic machinery as he was. My thoughts were more on the deposed thug and what would happen when he came after me. I had to learn more about the ground rules-and quickly. I moved back to the other slaves, but before I could open conversation we clattered across a bridge and through a gate in a high wall. The driver of our steam chariot stopped and called out. ' "Unload those here." In my new persona as Pusher I supervised but did little to help. The last case was just dropped to the ground when one of my slaves called out to me.

"He's coming now-through the gate behind you!" I turned quickly. He was right. The ex-pusher was there, scratched and bloody and red-faced with rage.

He bellowed as he attacked.

Chapter 20

Ilie first thing that I did was run away from my attackerwho roared after me in hot pursuit. This was done not through fear, though I did have a certain amount of that, but from the need to get some space around me. As soon as I was well away from the cart I turned and tripped him so he sprawled full-length in the muck.

This drew a big laugh from the onlookers; I took a quick glance around while he was climbing to his feet. There were armed guards, more slaves-and the red-garbed Capo Doccia who had cleaned us out. An idea began to formbut before it took shape I had to move to save my life.

The thug was learning. No more wild rushing about. Instead he came slowly towards me, arms spread, fingers extended. If I allowed him a sweet embrace I would not emerge from it alive. I backed slowly, turning to face Capo Doccia, moved to one side, then stepped quickly forward. Seizing one of my attacker's outstretched hands in both of mine, pulling and falling backwards at the same time. My weight was just about enough to send him flying over me to sprawl full-length again.

I was on my feet at once-with the plan clear in my mind. An exhibition.

"That was the right arm," I called out loudly.

He was stumbling when he returned to the attack so I took a chance and called my shot. "Right knee." I used a flying kick to get him on the kneecap. This is quite painful and he screamed as he dropped. He was slower getting to his feet this time, but the hatred was still 140 there. He was not going to stop until he was unconscious. Good. All the better for my demonstration of the art. "Left arm." I seized it and twisted it up behind his back, held it there, pushing hard. He was strong-and still fighting, trying to clutch me with his right hand, struggling to trip me. I got in first.

"Left leg," I shouted as I kicked hard on the back of his calf and he went down another time. I stepped back and looked towards Capo Doccia. I had his undivided attention. "Can you kill as well as dance?" he asked.