The Stainless Steel Rat

You're none of these things out of the past, I had shouted. None of these things… Angelina. I had bellowed this and there had been no protest from her.

Except that she no longer used the name Angelina, she used the alias Engela here.

When I tuned to faceher myguilty thoughts must have been scrawled all over my face, but she only gave me that enigmatic smile and said nothing. At least she had stopped combing her hair.

"You know I'm not Grav Bent Diebstall," I said with an effort. "How long have you known?"

"For quite a while; since soon after you came here, in fact."

"Do you know who I am—?"

"I have no idea what your real name is, if that's what you mean. But I do remember how angry I was when you tricked me out of the battleship, after all my work. And I recall the intense satisfaction with which I shot you in Freiburbad. Can you tell me your name now?"

"Jim," I said through the haze I was rooted in. "James diGriz, known as Slippery Jim to the trade."

"How nice.My name is really Angela. I think it was done as a horrid joke by my father, which is one of the reasons I enjoyed seeing him die."

"Why haven't you killed me?" I asked, having a fairly good idea of how father had passed on.

"Why should I, darling?" she asked, and her light, empty tone was gone. "We've both made mistakes in the past and it has taken us a dreadfully long time to find out that we are just alike. I might as well ask you why you haven't arrested me—that'swhat you started out to do isn't it?"

"It was—but…"

"But, what?You must have come here with that idea in mind, but you were fighting an awful battle with yourself. That's why I hid the fact that I knew who you really were. You were growing up, getting over whatever idiotic notions ever involved you with the police in the first place. I had no idea how the whole thing would come out, though I did hope. You see I didn't want to kill you, not unless I had to. I knew you lovedme, thatwas obvious from the beginning. It was different from the feeble animal passion of all those male brutes who have told me that they love me. They loved a malleable case of flesh. You love me for everything that I am, because we are both the same."

"We are not the same," I insisted, but there was no conviction in my voice. She only smiled. "You kill—and enjoy killing—that's our basic difference. Don't you see that?"

"Nonsense!"She dismissed the idea with an airy wave. "You killed last night—rather a good job too—and I didn't notice any reluctance on your part. In fact, wasn't there a certain amount of enthusiasm?"

I don't know why, but I felt as if a noose was tightening around my neck. Everything she said was wrong—but I couldn't see where it was wrong. Where was the way out, the solution that would solve everything?

"Let's leave Freibur," I said at last. "Get away from this monstrous and unnecessary rebellion. There will be deaths and killing and no need for them."

"We'll go—if we go someplace where we can do just as well," Angela said, and there wasa hardnessback in her voice. "That's not the major point though. There's something you are going to have to settle in your own mind before you will be happy. This stupid importance you attach to death. Don't you realize how completely trivial it is? Two hundred years from now you, I and every person now living in the galaxy will be dead. What does it matter if a few of them are helped along and reach their destination a bit quicker? They'd do the same to you if they had the chance."

"You're wrong," I insisted, knowing that there is more to living and dying than just this pessimistic philosophy, but unable in this moment of stress to clarify and speak my ideas. Angela was a powerful drug and my tiny remaining shard of compassionate reserve didn't stand a chance, washed under by the flood of stronger emotions. I pulled her to me, kissing her, knowing that this solved most of the problems although it made the final solution that much more difficult.

A thin and irritating buzz scratched at my ears, and Angela heard it too. Separating was difficult for both of us. I sat and watched unseeingly while she went to the vidiphone. She blanked the video circuits and snapped a query into it. I couldn't hear the answer because she had the speaker off and listened through the earpiece. Once or twice she said yes, and looked up suddenly at me. There was no indication of whom she was talking to, and I hadn't the slightest interest. There were problems enough around.

After hanging up she just stood quietly for a moment and I waited for her to speak. Instead she walked to her dressing table and opened the drawer. There were a lot of things that could have been concealed there, but she took out the one thing I was least suspecting.

A gun.Big barreled and deadly, pointing at me.

"Why did you do it, Jim?" she asked, tears in the corners of her eyes. "Why did you want to do it?"