I slammed the panel shut and punched in a command. A cup of steaming coffee instantly appeared. Followed by a porcuswinewich, steaming and juicy. The Admiral nodded.
“I’ll take this one-get another for yourself. Now tell me your plan.”
I did. Mumbling through mouthfuls of breakfast.
“We are going to spend some credits out of the mountains of money that we have access to. First we plant some news items. I want interviews, reviews, gossip and more-all about the new pop group that is the hit of the galaxy.”
He scowled and growled. “What pop group? What in hades are you talking about?”
“The planet-busting hit group called . . .”
“Called what?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it yet. Something way out and memorable. Or kinky.” I smiled and raised an inspired finger. “I have it! Ready? The group is called . . . The Stainless Steel Rats!”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
The Admiral was not happy. His scowl turned to a snarl and he jabbed a judgmental finger at me. “More coffee. Then tell me what you are. talking about or I will kill you.”
“Temper, temper, Admiral. Remember the old blood pressure. What I am talking about is getting to Liokukae with all the equipment I need, along with some strong-armed help. We are going to form a group of musicians called The Stainless Steel Rats-”
“What musicians?”
“Me for one-and you are going to supply me with the rest. You did tell me that you were head of League Navy Security?”
“I did. I am.”
“Then summon your troops. Get one of your techs to research all your field operators, all your rankings who have ever served in what passes for action in this civilized universe. The search will be a simple one because we want to know just one single fact about all of them. Are they musically inclined? Can they play a musical instrument, sing, dance, whistle or even hum in tune? Get the list and we will have our band.”
He nodded over his coffee. “You’re beginning to make sense. A pop group composed only of security agents. But it will take time to put together, to organize, to rehearse.”
“Why?”
“So it will sound good, you moron.”
“Who could tell the difference? Have you ever listened to country-and-coal-mining music? Or Aqua Regia and her Plutonium Pals?”
“Point taken. So we get this group together and publicize them well so all Liokukae knows about them-”
“And has heard their music-”
“And wants to hear more. On tour. Which is impossible. The planet is quarantined.”
“That is the beauty of my plan, Admiral. When the publicity peaks, and the fame of the group is galaxy-wide, that is when the Rats will commit some crime so awful that they will instantly be shipped off to this prison planet. Where they will be received with great enthusiasm. And no suspicion. Where they will investigate and find the alien artifact and get it back so I can have the antidote. One other thing. Before we start operations I will need three million Interstellar Credits. In coins that have been newly minted here.”
“No way,” he snarled. “Funds will be supplied as needed.”
“You missed the point. That is my fee for conducting this operation. All operating expenses are on top of that. Pay up or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else I die in twenty-nine days and the operation dies and you get a black mark on your service record.”
Self-interest prodded him into an instant decision. “Why not. Those financially overburdened academics can afford it and not even notice it. I’ll get that list for you.”
He unclipped his phone from his belt, shouted a multi-digit number into it, then barked some brief commands. Before I had finished my coffee the printer hummed to life in the office; sheets of paper began to pile up in the bin. We went through them and ticked off a number of possibilities. There were no names, just code numbers. When this was done I passed the list back to the Admiral.
“We’ll need complete files on all the marked ones.”
“That is classified and secret information.”
“And you are the Admiral and you can get it.”