The Stainless Steel Rat's Revenge

"There. You're not convinced but you are beginning to doubt. Then you'll help me get a specimen gray man?"

"Help?" She clapped her hands with sheer girlish enthusiasm. "I'm simply looking forward to it. Of course he might get a little damaged while I'm bringing him in, but as long as he still works that is really all that matters, isn't it?"

Before I could answer Taze ran in and threw an armload of clothing onto the bed.

"Get dressed, quickly," she ordered. "The boots are the biggest we could find and I hope they fit." "Is there any reason for all this-rush?" I asked.

"There certainly is. There are troops and heavy weapons on all sides. This building is completely surrounded by the enemy."

Chapter 16

The boot was tight and delicately pointed, but I squeezed my foot in as fast as I could. "Were we followed here?" I asked Taze.

"No—of course not. I am no beginner at this business. Nor is the stolen car here any longer."

I cudgeled my sluggish brain into thought while I struggled with the second boot. The telephone rang and I froze—as did the two women—staring at it like a poison snake. It rang just once more then the tiny inset screen lit up and Kraj stared out of it, as emotionless as ever.

"You know that you are surrounded," he said. "Resistance is useless, diGriz. Surrender quietly and none of your friends will be hurt…"

My boot hit the screen and Kraj's image flared and died; I ripped the entire instrument out by the roots and buried it against the wall. A fine cold sweat dotted my skin. I knew that most phones can be turned on from central with the right equipment, but this was a bad time to see the theory proven.

"Don't panic!" I shouted, mostly to myself I imagine, because Angelina and Taze were perfectly calm. I hopped about the room getting on the other boot and tried to jar some clear thought into my tangled brain. The last hop ended me up sitting on the cot, panting, counting off on my fingers.

"Let us forget that call for a moment and figure out what is happening. One, we were not followed when we came here. Two, our transportation is gone so that could not be traced. Three, Kraj knew that I was here, which means they may have planted a directional radio transponder in me. In which case the services of a surgeon and a good x-ray machine will be needed as soon as we get out of here."

"You are forgetting a simpler explanation," Angelina said.

"Don't keep it a secret. If you can think better than I can—which is no compliment right now—let's have it."

"The torture box. You said it was radio controlled."

"Of course! A directional apparatus is probably an integral part of the mechanism. Is the thing still here, Taze?"

"Yes, below. We thought there might be a use for it."

"There is now. When we leave the box stays here. Maybe this will keep their attention on the building—and once away they won't find me this easily again. Now brief me, Taze, what kind of a building is this—and how do we get out of it?"

"It is a factory, owned by one of our members. And there is no possible way out, we are doomed to fight and die, but when we do we will sell our lives well and take many of those swine-pig-dogs with us…"

"That's fine, yes indeed. But we'll sell our lives dearly only if we have to. DiGriz can find escape routes where others only despair. Is your factory owner here? Good, send her up as quickly as possible."

Taze left on a run and I turned to my wife.

"I assume you brought the usual equipment with you? The sort of thing we had on our honeymoon."

"Bombs, grenades, explosives, gas charges, of course."

"Good girl. With you for a wife I have a growing sense of security."

Taze ran back in followed by another uniformed amazon. A little older perhaps, with a very attractive touch of gray to her hair, yet full-bosomed and round-limbed in a maturely fascinating way… I caught the cold look frosting in Angelina's eyes and quickly put my thoughts on more pressing matters.

"I am James diGriz, interstellar agent and spy."

"Fayda Firtina of the Guard," she barked and snapped a salute.

"Yes, very good Fayda, glad to meet you. At ease. I understand that you own this building."

"That is correct. Firtina Amalgamated (construction) Robutlers, Limited. The finest product on the market."

"What is?"

"Robutlers."

"You wouldn't think me dense if I asked what a robutler is?"

"A luxury product that is a necessity for the proper home. A robot that is programmed, trained, articulated and specially designed for but a single function. A butler, a servant, a willing aid around the house that makes the house a home, relieving the lady of the establishment of the chores and cares and stresses of modern living…"

There was more like this, obviously quotes from a sales brochure, but I did not hear it. A plan was forming in my mind, taking shape—until the sound of firing broke through my train of thought.

"They have made a probing attack," Taze said, a com-radio to her ear. "But were repulsed with losses."