The Stainless Steel Rat's Revenge

It was the sudden silence that shook me awake. I had been lulled off by the grumbles and complaints of my fellow officers, the coming and going of soldiers, the busy whir of office machines. These noises had all stopped, and had been replaced by silence. Through the silence, first distant, than fonder and louder, came the sound of a single set of footsteps approaching slowly and steadily. They came towards me—and passed by, and I kept my eyes closed and forced myself to breathe regularly. Only when they were well past did I open my eyes a crack.

I wondered at the silence. All I saw was the back of the man, a nondescript back slightly bent, a wrinkled uniform of unimpressive pale gray and a cap of the same fabric. I could not recall seeing this particular uniform before. I wondered what the fuss was about. Yawning, I sat up and scratched my head below the bandage, watching as the man reached the end of the room and turned to face us all. He was no more prepossessing from the front than from the back. Sandy hair getting a little thin on top, an incipient roll of fat and double chin, clean shaven with an unmemorable face. Yet when he spoke, in the tones of a stem schoolmaster, all of the veteran officers present remained dead silent.

"You officers, the few among you who were sober enough that is, may have heard an explosion and seen a cloud of smoke while you were on the way here. This explosion was caused by an individual who entered this base and is still undetected in our midst. We know nothing about him, but suspect that he is an offworld spy…"

This drew a gasp and a murmur as might be expected and the gray man waited a moment until he continued.

"We are making an intensive search for this individual. Since you gentlemen were in the immediate vicinity I am going to talk to you one at a time to find out what you might know. I also may discover… which one of you is the missing spy."

This last shaft exacted only a shocked silence. Now that he had everyone in the right mental condition for cross-examining the gray man began calling officers forward one at a time. I was doubly grateful for the foresight that had dropped me off the truck onto the side of my head.

It was no accident that I was the third man called forward. On what grounds? General resemblance in build to the offworld spy Pas Ratunkowy? My delayed arrival at Glupost? The bandage? Some basis of suspicion must have existed. I dragged forward with slow speed just as the others had done. I saluted and he pointed to the chair next to the desk.

"Why don't you hold this while we talk," he said in a reasonable voice, passing over the silver egg of a polygraph transmitter.

The real Vaska would not have recognized it, so I didn't. I just looked at it with slight interest—as though I did not know it was transmitting vital information to the lie detector before him—and clutched it in my hand. My thoughts were not as calm.

I'm caught! He has me! He knows who I am and is just toying with me!

He looked deep into my bloodshot eyes and I detected a slight curl of distaste to his mouth.

"You have had quite a night of it. Lieutenant Hulja," he said quietly, his eyes on the sheaf of papers—and on the lie detector readout as well.

"Yes sir, you know… having a few last drinks with the boys." That was what I said aloud. What I thought was 'They will shoot me, dead, right through the heart!' and I could visualize that vital organ spouting my life's blood into the dirt.

"I see you recently had your rank reduced—and where are your fuses. Pas Ratunkowy?" Am I tired… wish I was in the sack I thought.

"Fuses, sir?" I blinked my red orbs and reached to scratch my head and touched the bandage and thought better of it. His eyes glared into mine, gray eyes almost the color of his uniform, and for a moment I caught the strength and anger behind his quiet manners.

"And your head wound—where did you get that? Our offworld spy was struck on the side of the head."

"I fell, sir, someone must have pushed me. Out of the truck. The soldiers bandaged it, ask them…"

"I already have. Drunk and falling down and a disgrace to the officer corps. Get away and clean yourself up, you disgust me. Next man."

I climbed unsteadily to my feet, not looking into the steady glare of those cold eyes, and stared off as though I had forgotten the device in my hand, then turned back and dropped it on his desk, but he was bent over the papers and ignoring me. I could see a faint scar under the thin hair of his balding crown. I left.