The Stainless Steel Rat for President

"He gave his name as General James diGriz," Oliveira said. "And claims to represent an organization named POOPI..." "I'll have you shot if you are trying to make bad jokes!" "No, please, it is true your excellency!" I enjoyed watching the colonel sweat and tremble. "There must be some truth in what he says. This Paramilitary Organization of Political Investieation that he talks about could exist. Without a rioiiht hp in an ofiplanet agent. He came here first some months ago disguised as a tourist, to make contact with a traitor organization in Puerto Azul. I had him deported before he could cause any more trouble. He has since returned here illegally and is very high up in the Harapo organization that is causing us... some little problems..." "I will kill Harapo. Hang him. With his own intestines!" "Yes, all of the traitors, every one of them, lots of intestines!" Oliveira slavered. "Guts galore..." "Close your mouth, Oliveira, or you'll be first." There was a crackling sound as Oliveira slammed his mouth shut. I think he broke a tooth. Zapilote was glaring at me now, his beady red eyes trying to burn holds through me. "So you work for Harapo. You cause me all kinds of troubles. Now, before I kill you, tell me why you came here." "To make an agreement with you..." "I do not deal with traitors. Take him out and shoot him." The soldiers closed in, seizing me. It wasn't going quite as I had planned. "Wait!" I shouted. "Listen to me first. Would I have come here, alone and unarmed without a reason? That would be suicide. I came here in order to tell you..." What? I hadn't the slightest idea. But he was listening. What I had to tell him had to be important. What would interest him? What does a paranoid dictator care about? Paranoia! "I have come to tell you that there is a traitor very close to you. Plotting against you." "Who?" I had his attention now. He was on his feet, leaning across the desk. "Mrmtrmbimble..." I mumbled. "What?" "Shall I speak his name aloud, here? With these men listening?" "Speak up? Who is it? Tell me!" he frothed, coming around the desk, "I'll tell you," I said, bending my knees and tensing my muscles. "Someone very close to you who wants to kill you..." And as I spoke the words I hurled myself forward. Smashing into the guards who stood between us, knocking them aside. Staggering with the weight of the chains, dragging my arms up. My outstretched hands could barely reach his face; one fingernail brushed his skin.

Then the blows struck my head and body, driving me to the ground where the soldiers began to kick me. I was only vaguely aware of Oliveira stopping them, bending over and dragging me to my feet. Soldiers held me tightly; I could barely breathe. Oliveira had his pistol out and the cold muzzle was pushed between my eyes.

"Speak!" he commanded. "One last time before I blow your brains out. Who wants to kill the General-President?" "I do," I said hoarsely through my bruised throat. "I want to kill him and I have just done so. Don't you see that scratch on his face, the drops of blood?" Zapilote raised his hand to his cheek and touched it, then looked at the red stain on his fingers.

"You searched me!" I shouted, "But you did not find the weapon. This nail, this fingernail, cut to a point. And coated with four-hour virus. Zapilote has been infected and will be dead within that time. You're dead now. old man. Dead!"

Chapter 24

As you can well imagine, that made quite an impression on everyone present. Particularly Zapilote. His parchment skin went even whiter and he staggered back clutching at his face. You would think that after having lived for over two centuries he would have had enough of it. He hadn't. He must have got into the habit. I spoke sharply now, too well aware of the gun against my head.

"You're dead Zapilote-if you don't get the antidote in time. Now get this idiot with the gun away from me!" Zapilote staggered forward and reached up to seize Oliveira's ear, twisting it savagely as he hauled the man aside. The colonel shrieked and dropped the gun-which luckily didn't go off-and clapped his hands to the now-bloody ear. Zapilote shouldered him aside and stood before me.

"Get him on his knees!" Zapilote ordered, and the soldiers kicked me in the legs and forced me down. He stood before me, glaring down, while his breath rich with garlic and heartburn washed over me. "What about the antidote?" he breathed redolently.