The Stainless Steel Rat Joins the Circus ssr-11 Read online

  “Three weeks,” I said. “That is not too long.”

  “It is for this machine. At the minimum it has performed thirty-two to the one hundred eleventh teraflop operations since it started. Now let us see the result.”

  He sat and typed in a command. Scowled, typed faster. Eventually leaned back and sighed, touched a button. The printer clicked and extruded a sheet of paper.

  “The answer,” he said, waving it towards us.

  “Which is?” Angelina asked.

  “A little perturbing. Of all the events, movements, goings and comings, crimes and punishments, accidents and activities, births and deaths, everything that occurred on all of the planets on the dates of the bank robberies, out of all these possibilities there is only one thing that they have in common.”

  “Tell!” I commanded and all present at the table nodded in agreement.

  “I’ll tell. The circus was in town.”

  “James-you are not playing games with us.” There was a cold tone in Angelina’s voice.

  “Never, my dear mother. This is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

  “The same circus each time?” I asked.

  “No. I thought that at first myself. There were a number of different circuses involved.”

  “But they had something in common?” I asked.

  “The knife of your cold logic cuts deep, Dad. It appears that all of them employed, on the day of the robbery, the same circus act.”

  The room was so silent as we listened that you could have heard a syllable dropped.

  “Present on the planet at each theft was a man, an individual by the name of Puissanto, billed as the Strongest Man in the Galaxy.”

  “Do you know where he is now?”

  “No. He is resting. But I do know where he will be in about a month’s time. He will be heading the bill when Bolshoi’s Big Top comes to town.”

  “And where is town?”

  “On a distant planet I have never heard of, out in the wrong part of the galaxy, with the unattractive name of Fetorr. The city has the equally unattractive name of Fetorrscoria.”

  “Our next stop,” I said, climbing to my feet and leaving the cigar to die in the ashtray. “Start packing.”

  “Brilliant,” Angelina said, the scorn in her voice signifying the direct opposite.

  “Of course,” I said, sitting back down. “What would we do when we got there? Well, I know what we have to do. We all have to settle down quietly while I put Plan A into effect.”

  “Which is?” Angelina asked, now as confused as the rest.

  “I join the circus. We are certainly not going to learn anything by sitting in the audience. While I am doing that we put the rest of the operation on hold. James and Sybil, do I hear the sibilant hiss of your nanotechnology business calling to you?”

  “You do, Dad. This planet has been a lot of fun-but even the best vacation must end. You will be going to work now and I feel that we should do the same. But-even while it is back to work-we will keep the communications link open and will be with you instantly if you need us.”

  “Grateful thanks. Bolivar-does the rough outback of the stars call you?”

  “Not too loudly yet. Now that I am involved in banking I find it very interesting. I want to learn as much as I can, then make a little money to prove I know my business. And I want to know enough about the business so I can come to your aid with my know-how when you need it. Time enough after that for Sybill and me to get back to outer space.”

  “To work then!”

  This time when I jumped to my feet I stayed there.

  Chapter 3

  “And just what talents do you plan to present to this circus that will entice them to employ you? Acrobatics?” Angelina asked.

  “Not quite-although I could if I tried.”

  “I am sure that you could. Despite…”

  “Despite my advanced years?” I said in a cracked and ancient voice. Then leapt into the air and clicked my heels together five times before I landed. She applauded enthusiastically.

  “I think I will do something less strenuous.” I took a fivecredit coin from my pocket and let it roll from finger to finger across the back of my hand. “Magic. I have always been a keen amateur. And as a cardician—even more than that.”

  “Cardician? I thought they just called it cheating at cards?”

  “That is the technical term magicians use when referring to this particular skill. I will demonstrate.”

  I took a sealed deck of cards from the shelf and tore off the wrapper. Fanned them out, reassembled them, shuffled them enthusiastically and fanned them out again on the table, backs up.

  “Now choose a card, any card, that’s it. Look at it. Right.”

  I whipped up the cards and fanned them out again. “Put it back into the deck.”

  When she had done all this I gave the deck many good shuffles, then fanned them out-this time face up. “Will you kindly point to your chosen card.”

  She looked at the cards closely-then carefully looked again and shook her head.

  “It’s not there.”

  “Are you positive?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Was your chosen card the King of Spades?”

  “It was! How did you know that?”

  “Because I see that card in the pocket of your skirt.”

  I reached in and took out the card and handed it to her.

  She gasped. “That’s my card. You really do magic-and have been hiding it from me all these years. And I thought you only cheated at cards.”

  I bowed and accepted her praise. “Magic had to look like magic. But it is hard work. First there is misdirection, where I see to it that you look only where I want you to. Then there is forcing-”

  “You didn’t force me to do anything.”

  “A technical term, meaning I did this trick in such a way that you took the card I wanted you to take. Then I watched as you put the card back into the deck. And marked the card by inserting my little finger next to it. Which you could not see because I made sure that I only showed you the back of the deck. Then I removed and palmed the card before I shuffled the deck. It was in my hand when I placed it into your pocket.”

  “I never saw it.”

  “You were never intended to. Then I removed the card from your pocket. Magic! End of the trick. But to be a stage magician I will have to be able to do a lot more than manipulate cards. I must now abandon my amateur status to become an even keener professional.”

  “A sound idea,” she said. “You have certainly worked magic in the past, cleaning out banks.” Then she smiled and clapped her hands with happiness. “And I shall be your beautiful assistant! All women dream of a career on the stage. Think of all the lovely costumes I will wear.”

  “I am thinking-and think very much of the idea. And I also think that it is time to get some more information on my new vocation.”

  Unhappily, it was not easy to come by. Magicians, down through the centuries, have been a close-mouthed lot. Passing their secrets on all too reluctantly, keeping the details of their trade very close to the chest. Despite the billions of entries in the databases I searched, I could find very little real information. Just card tricks and vanishing rabbits and things like that. I had the strong feeling that Bolshoi’s Big Top would sneer at my act if that was all that I could do.

  “Nothing,” I growled as I shouted at the computer to turn itself off. “Maybe it is the acrobat-way after all.”

  “Do not despair,” Angelina said, pouring me a glass of alcoholic despair-destroyer. I sipped at it and smiled thanks in her direction.

  “You are right. Worry not and put the old brain cells to work. If magic were that easy we would be up to our thighs in magicians. We are not. But there are magical acts on the gogglebox all of the time. I’ve watched them in awe. How do they do it? Or rather how did they ever learn to do it? Not from books and computer programs-I’ve checked that out. But they do learn.
How?”

  “You mean who, don’t you?”

  “I do, I do!” I chortled as I sprang to my feet, finger raised in the air. “They learn from each other. Every sorcerer must have an apprentice. That is what I must be.”

  I turned to the familiar suitcase form of the Nanotechtric68X. “Awake, good computer,” I commanded.

  “But speak and I obey, oh master. “

  Angelina raised one lovely eyebrow. “You have been teaching this thing to be your electronic slave?”

  “Why not? Anything to keep the old ego happy.” I turned back to the suitcase. “Magicians, good magicians-galaxy famous magicians. Track them down and prepare a list of them.”

  The printout was humming away even before I had finished speaking. There were only six entries on the page. A very exclusive fraternity indeed. I spent a good hour preparing an irresistible sales pitch, listing my varied and convincing talents, and applying for the position of apprentice sorcerer. With the added inducement that I was prepared to pay vast sums for my education. When my missives were dispatched into the electronic void I finished my drink and cocked my head as I heard a distant digestive rumble.

  “Lunchtime,” I rumbled in echo. “Let us dine at some exclusive and hideously expensive restaurant while my applications are being processed. And return to find out who my mentor will be.”

  Dine we did, well and expensively, and were just signaling for the bill when Sybill appeared. Yes, it had to be Sybill because Sybil, her other self, had returned with James to Usti nad Labam to work with him on their mutual computer project.

  “Food or drink?” I said.

  “Thank you, no. Well, maybe a small bite and a drop of wine. Thank you.” She sipped and smiled. “I just grabbed a few minutes to talk while Bolivar attends a board meeting for our newly established private bank, Credit Dew. There are some investments we have been toying with.”

  “Investments? Perhaps I should consider something like that myself, with all the credits from Chaise just lying around.”

  “That’s just what Bolivar said. And he wasn’t too sure that your secret secret account was all that secret. So he transferred all your money here so he could watch it closely.”

  “How kind!”

  “He also used it to finance the establishment of Credit Dew.”

  A little too kind, I thought. But kept the thought to myself. I am sure that he knew what he was doing.

  “A little more wine.” I said and tipped a bit into each of our glasses. We all drank.

  “But you didn’t come here to talk about banking,” Angelina said.

  “You’re right. I have been thinking about Jim’s new career while Bolivar is busy making money. Through my Special Corps contacts I did a little more investigating of the circus. I did a little checking on the acts myself and have found one that was of great interest. Gar Goyle’s Freak Show. Intergalactic monstrosities.”

  “Doesn’t sound too attractive,” Angelina said. “I thought that sort of thing was illegal.”

  “It is-that is why I made some even more discreet inquiries through the Special Corps. It is all very legal—and interesting …”

  This caught my attention. “Interesting—in what way?”

  “I’m afraid you will have to find out for yourself. This is all I could uncover now. Plus the fact that Special Corps thinks that Gar Goyle can be trusted. If I find out anything else I’ll let you know. How are your magical studies going?”

  “We will know as soon as I get answers to some inquiries. I feel that I am on the cusp of an entirely new career.”

  “Best of luck.” She looked at her watch, touched the napkin to her lips. “Bolivar’s meeting should be done by now. I must fly. Bye.”

  Then she was away in a burst of enthusiasm. We finished our luncheon and returned, sated, to our rooms. Eager to find the response to my queries.

  Which was exactly nothing. Nor was it any better a day later. My letters had vanished into the interstellar void. Like magic. Then the message-received bell pinged and, with sudden joy, I lifted the sheet from the tray.

  Glanced at it and cursed fluently in Esperanto as I crumpled it and hurled it to the floor.

  “Fiegulo! Bastardego! Ekskrementkapo! “

  “I gather you are not too happy at the result?” Angelina said.

  When I answered her I had to speak through grated teeth. “I have never been so insulted in my life. Not only rejected but sneered at, put down, derided, despised…”

  “And all of the rest. Well the study of magic is obviously a very secretive thing. So what do you do next?”

  “Find another answer,” I said as I paced gloomily about the room. Which is not an easy thing to do. Nor is pacing angrily. Nor raging fatuously. “Not a single famous magician will take me.”

  “Then why don’t you try the not-so-famous?”

  “Not so good. I need only the best.”

  “Maybe the best are dead. If they were really good they should be able to speak to you from beyond the grave.”

  “No jokes! This is a serious matter…”

  Then I stopped in my tracks as the idea popped to the surface. “Not alive, not dead … but … retired!”

  My faithful suitcase had but to be commanded. There were only two names on the new list, the first one lightyears away right across the galaxy. But then, with quavering finger, I pointed out the address of the second name.

  “Retired and living in Happy Hectares, a retirement home for actors. Sounds very nice.”

  “But do you see where Happy Hectares is?”

  “Of course. Here on Elysium. And why not? This is a pleasure planet serving a number of star systems. Shall I call Rent-a-Rover and get us some transportation?”

  “By all means. I look forward intently to meeting the Great Grissini. While you do that I’ll get a printout of his career highlights.”

  Some hours later we rolled through the entrance of Happy Hectares, under a curling archway that had HOME OF THE STARS spelled out in twinkling lightbulbs. We passed resplendent gardens with elderly types strolling the paths, or sitting in shaded pergolas. Robot gardeners worked away in the flower beds; butlerbots circulated with trays of tea and little sandwiches and cakes. And some with chilled glasses. Angelina saw the direction of my gaze and shook her head.

  “Too early for you to get tucked into the sauce, Jim. First we find your magician.”

  The elegantly gowned and carefully coiffed lady at the front desk was kindness itself.

  “The Great Grissini, of course. Let me find out where he is right now.” She punched the keys; and I tried to remember where I had seen her before. Angelina was far quicker off the mark then I was.

  “Why you must be Hedy Lastarr. I so enjoyed seeing you in Planet of Passion.”

  “How nice of you to remember,” Hedy cooed, patting the curls of her stylishly gray hair. “Not many people remember the old threedees these days.”

  “They are missing a lot. Far better than the current rubbish.”

  “I could not agree more. Ahh, here we are. The Great Grissini is in the west garden just follow the attendant. And don’t forget our tax-free status.”

  She pointed delicately at a collection box on the desk before her that was labeled with HELPING THE NEEDY IS A REAL GOOD DEEDY in ornate curled lettering. I stuffed credits through the slot in the top until she beamed with pleasure. We followed the blue-painted robot out into the gardens.

  “He is the one you seek,” the robot said, pointing to a man under an umbrella, then rolling away.

  The Great Grissini was not looking that great today. He was very thin, pale and bony, with his toupee not too well secured. He looked up suspiciously when we approached. I remembered the reaction-and lack of reaction-of the magicians I had tried to contact. I did not want to repeat my mistakes. They were surely a prickly lot. A strong sales pitch was very much in order now. I had boned up on his biography while Angelina drove, so I could be a little more subtle in my approach.

/>   “Might I ask if I am speaking to Pasquale Grissini—known throughout the galaxy as the Great Grissini?”

  The grunted response could have meant anything. I tried to smile warmly while I introduced myself and Angelina. He broke in before I was done.

  “You want a drink?”

  “Why, yes, of course. Kind of you to ask.”

  His next grunt was a more enthusiastic one as he pressed a button on the table before him. When he took his thumb away I saw that the button was inscribed with a symbolic cocktail glass. Things were indeed looking up.

  A boxish wheeled robot rolled over. It had arms at the front end beside a male mannequin’s head. “May I be of service?” the thing said. “The special today is Zubenelgenubian Iced Tea. One hundred and fifty proof.”

  “I’ll take a double,” Grissini said, leaning forward; the first sign of animation I had seen. We ordered the specials as well. Something hummed in the thing’s interior. Then a hatch sprang open and the iced drinks were there on a tray. Behind a transparent door.

  “That will be twenty-two credits,” the robot said. “Cash only.” Then it opened its mouth wide, revealing a money slot where its tongue should be. I looked out of the corners of my eyes at Grissini who was as a marble statue. My round, obviously. I stuffed in coins until a horn sounded a quick fanfare and the door slipped out of sight. Mechanical arms seized the tray and deposited it on the table before us.

  “And some deep-fried seaweed pretzels,” our new friend said, almost smiling. I paid with pleasure. Then, while he was getting tucked into his toxic tea, I hit the high points of his career.

  “Your vanishing Boy Sprout was the hit of the circuits. Where a real live Boy Sprout climbed a rope right before the audience-then vanished in an instant.

  Did you know that there have been two books written about that trick? Each one said that they knew how it had been done.”

  “Did they?”

  “No. As far as the galaxy goes your mystery is still a mystery. Living on in the memories of your grateful audiences.”

  “They loved it,” he said, nodding but not letting this interfere with some serious sipping.