The Stainless Steel Rat for President

Nor were we being tardy on the organizational front. Jorge, once a tourist guide and now in charge of our recruiting campaign, had flying squads visiting every polling district. Local volunteers were formed into secret committees, then issued with scrambler radios so we could be in constant touch with all of them. Campaign brochures poured forth from printing presses right around the planet, and we saw to it that there were two news bulletins on radio and television every night. First came the lying government one-then ours followed immediately afterwards. We kept the news factual and accurate and free of political bias. That was enough-it was a breath of fresh air after the drivel that had proceeded it. We knew that their technicians were doing everything they could to jam or trace our signals. To no ayail. Freedom of information had come to the planet. If the ballot could be kept relatively honest Zapilote's regime was surely doomed.

We had real proof of this when the government car approached our perimeter defenses on day eleven, just three days before the election. It was stopped by the guards who put a call through to me.

"Excuse me. Sir Hector, but the party in the car will speak to no one but you." "What's the security status?" "Detectors reveal only small arms. No bombs, no radiation devices of any kind. One passenger in the back, a driver and guard in the front." "Sounds good so far. Who is the passenger?" "We can't tell. The windows are opaqued." "Let them through. I don't think we'll have any trouble looking after them." Nor did we. The car was stopped among the trees well away from the castle. Rodriguez and Bolivar had a squad with them; they had the two men who were in the front of the car disarmed and whisked away within seconds. I strolled into sight and looked at the dark windows. I was quite relaxed, possibly because of my superior combat ability, but truthfully because of the portable force field generator that protected me.

"You can come out now," I said.

The door slowly opened and Zapilote poked his head through, then climbed down.

"What an unexpected pleasure," I said.

"None of that nonsense, Harapo. I'm here to talk business." He reached behind him in the car and removed a metal box. When he turned back with it in his hand my pistol was trained between his little beady eyes.

"Put that away, you moron," he snarled. "I'm not here to try to kill you." He threw a switch on the box and it began to hum loudly. "This is a white noise generator. It blacks out any kind of recording equipment and sets up air tremor patterns that make photography and lipreading impossible. I want no record of this conversation to exist. " "Fine by me." I put the gun away. "What do you want?" "A deal. You're the only person in a hundred and seventy years that eyer gave me a fight. I appreciate that. It was getting kind (n boring." "Not to the people you had beaten to death. " "None of that liberal hogwash for the masses. There are just the two of us here now. You don't care about the microcephalic mob any more than I do..." "What makes you say that?" The conversation was beginning to get interesting.

"Because you are a politician, that's why. The only thing politicians care about is getting elected, then re-elected. You have stood up to me and made your point. It's now time for us to get together and make a deal. I'm not going to live forever, you know..." "That's the best news I have heard yet!" He ignored me and pressed on.