The Return of The Stainless Steel Rat

The Return of The Stainless Steel Rat Harry Harrison

"You are the only one who can save us, diGriz! Say that you will do it, I beg of you..."

The words were music to my ears. I try to be humble in my own simple way, but it is very hard. People keep telling me how great I am. They know that I have saved the universe - twice at least - so they feel, rightly enough I suppose, that I can do anything.

"...please help. Four men have died already, that is why we need you..."

His words dropped me from the heights of elation into the abyss of despair. I snapped at him.

"So that's what you need me for. To be corpse number five. You think I'll look good in a coffin?"

There it was, of course. You get a reputation and you have to live up to it - even if you die in the attempt. I rose from my chair and paced the length of the room, trying to ignore the delegates grouped uneasily against the wall. Why should I listen to them? Why me, James Bolivar diGriz, the Stainless Steel Rat? Outcast of society - yet still a hero of society? A lifetime criminal who was now being called upon to for help by the very people I preyed upon. It wasn't fair.

"Not fair!" I cried. "I should be robbing you blind, not doing you favours."

They nodded eagerly at this.

"Rob us, Jim, rob us! We don't mind. Only finish this little job first!"

I sighed deeply. There is no escaping one's destiny. "Before I decide, would someone mind telling me just what the hell this is all about?"

All they needed was the starting whistle. In an instant they had the hologram projector up and running. A holo of a satellite station sprang into existence before me, soft music played and a deep voice began speaking.

"This is the orbiting satellite Stanyan VI. It is the port of call of all deep spacers approaching the Stanyan System."

The spidery form of a spacer drifted up to the image and docked to drive home the point.

"Cargo is then transhipped to the thirteen planets that comprise this solar system. The operation is successful, safe and speedy."

Violins swelled up in the background playing successful, safe and speedy music. I began to doze off - but a crash of brass and timpani woke me up.

"But everything has changed!" The announcer gasped. "It all began when this passenger shuttle went out of control..."

The familiar egg-shaped form of a shuttle swam into view, drifting towards one of the satellite's docking bays. It was completely under computer control; accidents were an impossibility, the retarding jets would fire and ease it into place. Then the impossible happened. Instead of the breaking jets being activated, the stern jets flared on - sending the shuttle hurtling forward. It was over in an instant. The shuttle crashed into the solid steel of the docking port and burst open like a silver egg hurled against a wall. Air puffed out and froze instantly. Maimed bodies were hurled free - but unhappily did not freeze as fast as the air had done. I could not take my eyes away from this gruesome scene as the narrator continued in a hushed voice.

"Thirty-seven people were killed in this accident. Which proved to be no accident at all. When the mechanic went to examine the malfunctioning navigational computer, he found that a ten thousand volt current had been shorted though the metal door of the computer room..."

The holo of the space station puffed out of existence and was replaced by a lifesize image of the mechanic who had tried the handle on the hotwired door. I turned away.

"I've seen a fried corpse before, thank you," I said. "Can I have the rest of this nasty story straight, without the sensational visual effects?"

The scene shifted back to the satellite again and the voice continued remorselessly.

"It soon became obvious that the navigational computer was not at fault. It had been overriden by the Central Control computer. This is the Galaxy grade, Mark 2500 model, absolutely reliable and never known to malfunction before..."

"There's a first time for everything," I shouted, trying to be heard over the booming voice and the backup orchestra. "Will someone kindly switch off this ghastly holo show! Enough is enough."

The music died with a gasping rattle and the holo popped out of existence; the lights came back up. I turned and stabbed a finger at the cowering delegates.

"Now just bring me up to date without the special effects. You have a nutsy computer that has already polished off a lot of people. And it is a Mark 2500 which probably handles hundreds of flights a day, controls thousands of operations, along with hundreds of thousands of subfunctions as well - that must be one smart computer. If it has gone gaga it won't really like anyone coming near it. The four men who were killed - they tried to turn the thing off?"

The delegates all nodded together gloomily. I nodded as well.

"I thought so. Have you evacuated the satellite?"

At this they shook their heads more gloomily. The leader of the delegation spoke.