I climbed wearily into the launch. Pushed up the armrests on the back row of seats. Stretched out and fell instantly to sleep.
The next thing I knew Floyd was shaking me gently by the arm. “We’re back in the Pentagon. The meeting is on just like you said. I have breakfast and some clean clothes waiting for you. They’ll be ready when you are.”
The shower blasted out warm water and heated air and I stayed under it far too long. But it did wonders not only for my disposition but for my sore muscles as well. I did not hurry. They had arranged the meeting-on my terms-only because they had no choice. They would have informed me to get stuffed if they could. But the labtechs would have found nothing when they examined the artifact. Floyd would have told his confused story about what had happened when he had jumped in with his gun ready. Very confusing. In the end they would have been forced to the reluctant conclusion that the only way they could ever find out what had happened in the underground laboratory was by having me tell them. After which, knowing their record for veracity, they probably felt that they could do whatever they wanted with me.
“Well, Jim,” I said to my smiling and sleek image in the mirror, as I carefully combed my hair, “let’s give them what they want.”
Floyd was my guide. Stamping in step with me along the corridors and into the conference room.
“Hi, guys!” I said in cheery greeting to the far-from-friendly faces.
Only Madonette returned my smile, waved a tentative hand. Admiral Steengo was stern, Tremearne uncommunicative-as was Mata. Floyd was grim-faced-but winked when I glanced his way. Iron John and Svinjar were chained to their chairs or they would have killed me instantly. As it was they strained forward, eyes bulging with homicidal rage. I was most pleased to see that my hairy red friend had a bandaged skull and an arm in a sling. The aged artifact lay on the table before them and I went and sat on the edge of the table next to it.
“Tell us about the device,” Admiral Steengo said in a reasonable and friendly voice.
“Not quite yet, Admiral. I assume that your techs could make nothing of it?”
“They say it is over a million years old. That’s all.”
“There’s more to it than that. But first a few introductions. The bruised guy with red fur is Iron John. Leader of a cult which you are now going to abolish. You can ship him off for treatment at an establishment for the criminally insane. Along with the fat man next to him. I have them here because I wanted you to see just what your policies of benign neglect had forced on the human beings out there on garbage world.”
I smiled and waited for the cursing and the spitting to die down, then nodded pleasantly at the unwholesome twosome.
“Would anyone here like to live in the kind of societies that you are subjecting the helpless people on Liokukae to? A committee must be appointed now. Plans drawn up to free the women and children from their bondage. You will find that Mata will be able to advise you on that. I think the various males on the planet will have to be interviewed separately. I’m sure that a number of them like their world the way it is. They can have it. The others deserve something better. But all that is in the future. First let us look at the past. I’m sure that the others on my team will grieve the passing of The Stainless Steel Rats. We have played our last gig, sung our last song. And we did pretty well for a bunch of amateurs. One juvenile criminal. An admiral, an unarmed combat expert, and a-what are you really, Madonette? And don’t embarrass both of us by talking about the imaginary office job again. That’s not your style. Everyone else has come clean-so how about you?”
She drew herself up, looked grim-then smiled. “You deserve the truth, Jim. My office really is out there. But it is in the Galaksia Universitato where I teach in the department of archeology. The university has so much money involved in this operation that they insisted on a representative.”