Of course it was a very slow attack. The longer it took them to discover our nasty intentions the better our chances of success. So we rolled into battle with stately majesty as I broke out another bottle of champagne and labored over the cork. I was still struggling with it as we slowed and stopped before the riveted steel gate. Floodlights burned down and gun muzzles poked out of slits in the stone wall. "Open, I say, open!" I shouted leaning out of the window. "What do you low-born accumulations of sheep-droppings think you are doing keeping me waiting like this? Driver, sound the horn and wake these idiots up." The horn sounded, really not a horn but a recording of a steam calliope at full blast. My ears hurt, but I waved the champagne bottle with success as the portal ground slowly upwards. We rolled forward into the fortress to stop before the second sealed gate. I tried to ignore the fact that the first one had closed behind us as I concentrated on the cork. It came out with a resounding pop and Angelina cheered and held out her glass to be refilled. Both boys extended their glasses back for filling and all of us ignored the armed soldiers who were pouring out of the guard room. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Angelina plant an elbow in Flavia's rib to encourage her to get into the act as well. I filled her glass and returned it to her. "Your papers, at once," an officer ordered, pushing through the troops who stared, goggle-eyed, at our aristocratic excesses. "Silence, knave, when in the company of your betters," I shouted, sloshing champagne as I gesticulated broadly. "Open the portal, then be gone!" "Your identification, please," he asked again, a little more humbly now in the presence of his superiors. He was at the open window, looking in, and I saw his eyes widen as he saw Flavia. Recognized! He opened his mouth to shout a com- 50 The Stainless Steel Rat for President 51 mand and I hurled the glassful of champagne between his gaping teeth. "Windows! Gas!" I ordered. As the windows slammed shut a flood of gas poured from the vents on the car. The officer slid out of sight and his soldiers dropped around him in silent heaps. As the last one fell I hit the switch on the laser gun. The ruby ray lashed out spectacularly; sparks flew in all directions. And the steel door glowed a nice red color. "Not too impressive," Angelina said. "The metal is too thick. James, the cannon. Hit it at the top..." The long hood of the car split open and an ugly, gray muzzle heaved up into firing position. The exploding roar of the recoilless 105 cannon was deafening in that enclosed space. Even inside the insulated car we clutched our ears as the armor-piercing shells tore through the steel. It was like being inside a giant bell with our heads as clappers. The door ahead of us buckled and shook—then collapsed outward with gathering speed and crashed down into the roadway. Machine-gun bullets crashed and starred the window by my face and clattered like deadly hail off the armored roof, as more soldiers poured out of the doorway. They fired as they came—then collapsed as they walked into the pool of sleeping gas. "Get us out of here!" I shouted, hardly able to hear myself with the ringing in my ears. "Wait!" One of the soldiers had staggered forward, still shooting as he dropped onto the hood of the car. His sprawled body slid slowly backward and disappeared from sight. If we moved we would run him down. I had the door open even as I shouted, diving out, stumbling over the thick-piled slumbering troops. One of them had fallen with his arm under the car; I kicked it back. Then I had the soldier in front of the car by the boots and dragged him aside. As I jumped for the car I had a sudden glimpse of another soldier in a gas mask, raising a gun. It fired, and pain tore through my shoulder spinning me about, knocking me down. Things became a little hazy then. I tried to stand but only thrashed a bit without moving. Through a blur I saw James standing over me firing a needle gun, then dropping it and grabbing me up. Pushing me headlong into the car. Though I 52 The Stainless Steel Rat for President wanted to see what was going on my eyes were closed for some reason. The car surged forward, there were more loud explosions, we bumped and bounced horribly as we rode down the remains of the gate. After that—the bliss of unconsciousness, When I opened my eyes the first thing I saw was Angelina's fair face. Which is a very nice thing to see at any time, but was particularly welcome at this moment. I started to talk, but started coughing instead. She held a glass of water to my lips, which I gulped at eagerly. She moved aside as she sat the glass down and I found myself looking up at the blue sky. Which was a relief. Far better than a sordid prison ceiling. The water had washed away my speech impediment and I did much better on my second try. "Mind if I ask how it went?" "Very well indeed, despite your foolish heroics." But she was smiling as she said this and, could it be true?, was there the tiniest tear in the corner of her eye? I found that her free hand was in mine and I gave it a feeble squeeze and the smile broadened. "The resistance petered out as the gas seeped through the building. A few soldiers managed to put on gas masks, but the needle guns got them. We went through the gate and straight down the road and it is a good thing the car is armor-plated. There are some really impressive dents in the rear. Some of their cars followed us for awhile, but we left the main road and blew up a bridge and that took care of that. We haven't heard or seen them since. After that we took to the hills and the minor roads, then found this glade and stopped for a rest. As you can see the car and tents are hidden under the trees and all is fine. Except for your arm, which has a very neat entrance wound in your biceps, a nasty exit wound in your triceps and what appears to be a nick on your humerus." "I don't feel a thing. " "Nor should you, being pumped full of drugs." I writhed a bit and she helped me sit up, plumping the pillows behind me. I was lying on one of the sleeping bags that had been spread in a row beneath the tall pine trees. The twins were sound asleep, as was Flavia. It was an incredibly peaceful scene, the only sound the boughs above being rustled by the gentle breeze. I was facing downhill across a grassy clearing, looking towards the hills and mountains beyond. The Stainless Steel Rat for President 53 "Have you had any sleep at all?" I asked. "Someone had to stand watch." "That's my job now. Get some rest." She started to protest, but she was a good soldier. There was no reason for her to stay awake. She bent over and kissed me warmly, fussed with the water jar and medications on the folding table at my side, then retired to her own sleeping bag. The drugs had given me a good case of flannel mouth and I quickly drained the water jug. The silence was so absolute that I could hear birds calling far down the slope. When I stood up I felt a little wobbly, but otherwise all right. As I passed Bolivar his eyes opened and he looked up at me. I gave him the ringed thumb and forefinger gesture that means everything is fine, then touched my finger to my lips. He nodded and closed his eyes again. The car was tucked away far back under the trees. When I looked in I saw that the security alarm was activated, as was the radar. If anything bigger than a bird moved in our direction the alarm would be sounded; one of the boys undoubtedly had the repeater tucked in with him. I had a warm feeling of happiness, knowing that my mob could well take care of themselves under any circumstance. There was a container of water chilling in the fridge; also a number of bottles of beer. That was more like it! I struggled the top off a beaded bottle and gurgled greedily. Then clutched it by the neck as a makeshift weapon when I heard footsteps moving outside the car. Flavia appeared so I relaxed and drank a bit more. "You are the only person who could have brought us here," she said. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart." "Nothing at all. I do it twice a week sometimes. And remember, I had some skilled help." "I must confess I thought your plan insane when Jorge told me. I never believed that you could possibly win an election against Zapilote. Now I apologize for that doubt. I not only believe that you can accomplish what you say—but I want you to do it. Do you know why?" "Sorry. Head's still a bit thick. No good at guessing games." She came forward, stopping no more than an arm's length away. And she was indeed remarkably beautiful. Eyes you could drown in. Lips red and full . . . I sighed and drained thfi bfittif and sat hark fin the. Ufat tn \cp.fn mv tim-anr-p frnm 54 The Stainless Steel Rat for President those eyes. She stood there, most serious and radiant, with her hands clasped before the fullness of her bosom. "I want you to succeed because you are a man of utmost honor. I believe that truly." "I believe that I am a crook, though I thank you for the kind words. "Though the police of a hundred planets probably wouldn't agree with you." "I do not understand you—but I believe in you. Tell me. Why did you leave the safety of the car and risk being killed?" "Nothing else I could do. That soldier was under the wheels. He would have been killed when we drove ahead." "But you risked everything, everyone, for that man's life. How could one man's life be so important?" "You've just said it yourself. What else is there more important than one person's life? That is all he is ever going to have. All that any of us will ever have. One single shot at existence, with nothing before and nothing to come. What you see is what you get. That's all there is, there ain't no more. iiore. She shook her head. "But mv religion tells of the after- UIIVJ J11Wn 11Cil ll~jaU· UUC lily Ir;ll~jlvll rrjllJ vl LI•~.J rur~JA life..." "Good for you. I hope you enjoy the theology. I never knock another man's beliefs, and in turn I expect to be respected for mine. Stated very simply, I face reality and admit that not only isn't there anyone at home upstairs—there isn't even any upstairs. I have one life and I intend to make the most of it. Therefore it follows naturally that if I firmly believe this, why then I cannot deprive another person of their turn at existence. Only the very self-assured political and religious zealots kill people in order to save them. Live and let live, I say. Help the good guys and kick out the bad." "Well spoken. Dad," Bolivar said, appearing behind Flavia. "Now isn't it time you got some rest? I'll take over the guard." "Thanks. I'm beginning to think that's not a bad idea at all." He nodded agreement but was looking at Flavia instead of me, and she was returning the look with equal intensity. "Well, I think I'll just totter off. Flavia, if you're not sleepy, why don't you talk to Bolivar. I'm sure he has a lot of questions to ask you about this planet." They were nodding enthusiastically at the idea when I made my exit. I was nodding to myself as well. Feeling The Stainless Steel Rat for President 55 suddenly, well, not exactly old or past it, but definitely as though my generation was being supplanted. Must have been the depressing effect of the drugs or my little religious lecture. "Brace yourself, Jim, and think strong thoughts!" I muttered to myself as I dropped grateftilly back onto the sleeping bag. "You are the planetary savior and they will build statues of you." Which wasn't too bad a thought and I fell asleep with a smile on mv lins.