The Stainless Steel Rat for President

When I looked over my shoulder I saw that the policemen had reached the car. But as soon as they got close the limp arm vanished back inside and the vehicle burst into life, surging forward and away. One policeman shook his fist in impotent fury while the other, slightly more intelligent, wrote down the registration number of the vanishing vehicle. Although this exercise was about as practical as the fist waving: the car had been stolen.

Within seconds the police would turn around and see me there. One last push and I would be off. To think of another plan.

I slammed my shoulder hard against the door in angerjust as it opened. Off-balance I plummeted through and heard it slam behind me.

"Welcome to Castle Penoso, Sir Hector," a tremulous voice said, "Welcome." I climbed to my feet and dusted off my knees. The owner of the voice stood just before me. A wraithlike gray man with gray hair and gray skin that neatly matched the color of his clothes. I accepted the tremulous hand and pressed the ancient fingers lightly, bowing at the same time. Trying to remember what you called a duke. Your worship? Your highness? Your dukeness? My mind was empty. I would have to fake it.

"What kindness! How can I thank you? I have faced death this day and have only been saved by your timely actions!" "All I did was open the door. Sir Hector," he said, dismissing this brave action as a mere bagatelle. He biinked rheumy eyes in my direction. "But sit, I pray you, have a drop of 94 brandy. Then tell me everything. I had only a brief note from the marqu6z asking me to admit you. He said you would explain." I did. While schnozzling into the excellent brandy. Of course, I simplified the story in the telling, but the events pretty much followed those that had happened the day before. The duke's eyes widened at my tale, and he trembled and gasped so hard I was worried for him. But he lasted the course and the story so impressed him that he joined me in a brandy.

"Terrible! Terrible! Zapilote must be done away with once and for all. But how is my dear fourth cousin thirteen times removed?" It was my turn to hobble my head, until I finally realized that he must have meant the marquez; I wondered how they kept track of the family connections.

"I don't know. That is where you must help me. If I write the message will you send it on the semaphore?" "Oh dear, instantly of course. I will call my operator." While he tingled his little bell and issued instructions I scratched out a concise query I AM SAFE IN CASTLE PENOSO. WHAT IS CONDITION OF MARQUEZ, JAMES AND BOLIVAR?

SIR HECTOR HARAPO The duke nodded over the slip of paper and handed it to his operator who hurried off: no long stair climbs for the duke. All we could do then was wait. I made free use of the brandy decanter. When the answer finally arrived I tore it from the operator's fingers, then grated my teeth when I saw that it was still in code.

I paced and muttered while the duke clicked his little wheels and nattered cabalistically to himself. When he finally turned around with the decoded message I was there, behind him, leaning over his shoulder, unmindful of any breach of etiquette. Had they made it through to the castle? I could feel the tension draining away as I read.

MARQU~ZZ RESPONDING WELL TO MEDICAL ATTENTION. BOLIVAR AND JAMES UNHARMED. PLEASE ISSUE ORDERS.

I ATW HAHipn All was well! The boys had done their job and brought de Torres home. I had seen the medical setup in the castle so I knew that once the doctors and machines had pounced on him he would be all right. And Angelina had taken over in my absence. I could now afford to relax. And I did. By pouring another brandy.