The Stainless Steel Rat

"You're right. I only wish I was able to state it so clearly. You have a remarkable ability to turn a phrase.Bent.I'm going to write that down so I can remember it. The ends justify…"

He scratched away industriously on a note plate. What a knowledge of history he had—just the man to plan a revolution! I searched my memory for a few more old saws to supply him with, until my brain was flooded with a sudden anger. I jumped to my feet.

"If we are going to do this we should not waste any time, Count Rdenrundt," I said. "I suggest 1800 hours tonight for the action. That will give you enough time to arrange for the capture of her guards. I will be in her rooms and will arrest her as soon as I have a message from you that the first move has succeeded."

"You're correct.A man of action as always.Bent.It will be as you say." We shook hands then and it took all the will power I possessed to stop from crushing to a pulp his limp, moist, serpentine paw. I went straight to Angelina.

"Can we be overheard here?" I asked her.

"No, the room is completely shielded."

"Your former boy-friend.CountCassi,has a snooper-detector. He may have other equipment for listening to what goes on here."

This thought didn't bother Angelic in the slightest. She sat by the mirror, brushing her hair. The scene was lovely but distracting. There were strong winds blowing through the revolution that threatened to knock everything down.

"I know about the detector," she said calmly, brushing. "I arranged for him to get it—without his knowledge of course—and made sure it was useless on the best frequencies. I keep a close watch on his affairs that way."

"Were you listening in a few minutes ago when he was making arrangements with me to kill your guards and throw you into the dungeons downstairs?"

"No, I wasn't listening," she said with that amazing self-possession and calm that marked all her actions. She smiled in the mirror at me. "I was busy just remembering last night."

Women! They insist on mixing everything up together. Perhaps they operate-better that way, but it is very hard on those of us who find that keeping emotion and logic separate produces sounder thinking. I had to make her understand the seriousness of this situation.

"Well, if that little bit of news doesn't interest you," I said as calmly as I could, "perhaps this does. The rough Radebrechens didn't send that killer last night—the Count did."

Success at last.Angelina actually stopped combing her hair and her eyes widened a bit at the import of what I said. She didn't ask any stupid questions, but waited for me to finish.

"I think you have underestimated the desperation of that rat upstairs. When you droned him with that bottle yesterday, you pushed him just as far as he could be pushed. He must have had his plans already made and you made his mind up for him. The sergeant of the guard recognized the assassin and connected him with the Count. That also explains how the killer got access to the roof and knew just where to find you. It's also the best explanation I can imagine for the suddenness of this attack. There's too much coincidence here with the thing happening right after your battle with Cassitor the Cantankerous."

Angelina had gone back to combing her hair while I talked, fluffing up the curls. She made no response. Her apparent lack of interest was beginning to try my nerves.

"Well—what are you going to do about it?" I asked, with more than a little note of peevishness in my voice.

"Don't you think it's more important to ask what you are going to do about it?" She delivered this line very lightly, but there was a lot behind it. I saw she was watching me in the minor, so I turned and went over to the window, looking out over the fatal balcony at the snowsummitted[?] mountain peaks beyond. What was I going to do about it? Of course that was the question here—much bigger than she realized.

What was I going to do about the whole thing? Everyone was offering me half-interests in a revolution I hadn't the slimiest interest in. Or did I? What was I doing here? Had I come to arrest Angelina for the Special Corps? That assignment seemed to have been forgotten a while back. A decision had to be reached soon. My body disguise was good—but not that good. It wasn't intended to stand up to long inspection. Only the fact that Angelina was undoubtedly sure that she had killed me had prevented her from recognizing my real identity so far. I had certainly recognized her easily enough, facial changes and all.

Just at this point the bottom dropped out of everything. There is a little process called selective forgetting whereby we suppress and distort memories we find distasteful. My disguise hadn't been meant to stand inspection this long. Originally I had been sure she would have penetrated it by now. With this realization came the memory of what I had said the night before.A wickedly revealing statement that I had pushed back and forgotten until now.