The Stainless Steell Rat Sings the Blues

Down a brick corridor over brick paving we went. Through a brick doorway into a great and impressive room. It was colorfully lit by the sunlight that streamed through the ceiling-high, stained-glass windows. Colorful scenes were depicted there of armies marching, attacking, fighting, dying; the usual thing. This motif was carried through to the walls which were hung with tattered battle banners, shields and swords. Robed men who stood about the room turned and nodded to us as we entered. But our guide led us past them to the far wall where there was an elevated throne, made of you-know-what, on which was seated the tallest man I have ever seen.

Not only tall-but naked.

At least he would have been naked if he had not been completely covered with rusty, reddish hair. His beard cascaded down his chest — which was covered as well with hair. Arms and legs and, I couldn't help peeking when he stood, hair all down his belly and crotch as well. This was all that was visible since he was wearing a sort of jockstrap or sporran woven out of, well possibly, his own hair. All of it the color of rusty iron. I stepped forward and. bowed a little bow.

"Iron John… ?"

"None other," he rumbled in a voice like distant thunder. "Welcome Jim-and Floyd and Steengo. Welcome Stainless Steel Rats. Your fame has gone before you."

Always good to meet a true fan. We all bowed now since this was not the kind of reception you normally get. Bowed yet again as all in the room cheered lustily.

Iron John sat down again and crossed his legs. He either painted his toenails or they were naturally rusty. I let it pass since there were a lot more things I would like to know first.

"All here in Paradise were possessed of a great depression when you were arrested," he said. "Falsely of course?"

"Of course!"

"I thought so. But the galaxy's loss is our gain. We are pleased since we now have, you might say, a monopoly on your talents."

This had an ominous sound which I ignored for the moment, cocking an ear as he rumbled on.

"The galaxy is so filled with guilt, sorrow and wrongheadedness that we chose, out of disgust, not to watch most of what is disseminated by television. I am sure that it will cheer you to know that, since your arrest and incarceration, we have canceled normal programming and have been running recordings of your numbers, day and night. Now, soon, we will be happily blessed with the originals themselves!"

This was greeted by cries of enthusiasm and we replied with nods, grins and handshakes over our heads. When the shouts had died away old Rusty boomed out what they all wanted to hear.

"It is our hope that you will now — play for us!" More shouts. "What a pleasure to hear live our favorite favorite 'Nothing's Too Bad For the Enemy.' But while you are setting up we will broadcast a recording to warm up our nation-wide audience, to prepare them for your first live performance."

Which was not a bad idea since, although we could get going fast, their TV technicians were another thing altogether, Very much on the antique side. They dragged in arm-thick Cables, antique-looking, homemade cameras and lights and other gear that belonged in a museum. While this was happening a screen dropped down from the ceiling and lit up with lively color when the back projector came on.

The recorded program did not have what might be called the galaxy's most inspiring opening. About a thousand suntanned bodybuilders drove heavy stakes into the ground with sledgehammers, backed by the thud of a beating drum. The drum died away but the hammers kept hammering silently as the voice-over spoke.

"Gentlemen of Paradise-we now bring you the special occasion that was announced a few minutes ago. I know that all of you, right across the land, are riveted to your sets. I think that we are going to get a hundred-percent rating on this one! So while The Stainless Steel Rats are warming up for their first ever live performance here, we are privileged to play for you their special version of — 'The Spaceship Way'!"

And it really was special. We watched ourselves attacking the song with our usual gusto, listened once again to those lovely lyrics…

Working on the engines, in the engine room,

Wirin' and firm' an' waitin' for the boom.

When the cannons blast like the sound of doom,

You know you're a-sweatin' in the engine room.

Captain on the bridge his fingers on the triggers

All the guns loaded by the spaceship riggers.

Swoopin' on the enemy, million miles an hour

Callin' to the engine room for power, power, power.

Power, Power, Power make the electrons whirl,

Power, Power, Power-hear them protons swirl!

Power, Power, Power will win the day

Power, Power, Power, that's the SPACESHIP WAY.'