The Stainless Steel Rat Sings the Blues by Harry Harrison

“A nice plan,” I said, but I could not keep a certain tone of derision out of my voice. “Cooked down to essentials it means that we just trot north until something happens.”

“A satisfactory interpretation. Good luck.”

“Thanks. And you will keep the other and most pressing matter of a certain injection on the top of your agenda?”

“I shall query the people involved hourly on the hour,” he said grimly-and I think he meant it.

We filled our packs, kept the good-bys as brief as possible, loaded up and followed Fido out without a backward glance. I liked Madonette. Perhaps too much while I was on an assignment like this. Go, Jim, go I cozened. Follow your wandering tachyon.

We followed the flapping black nylon tail through the streets and onward to the outlying farms. The women we met waved happily, some even whistling bits of our tunes to cheer us on the way. The last farm fell behind us and the open plains opened out ahead. I clacked my jaw-radio.

“Are you there, Tremearne?”

“Listening in.”

“Any tribes of nomads around-or up ahead?”

“Negative.”

“Any buildings, farms, people, sheots – anything visible on this heading?”

“Negative. We’ve done a detailed scan as far north as the polar ace. Nothing.”

“Thanks. Over and out.” Wonderful.

“Empty on all sides, nothing at all ahead,” I reported to Floyd. “So we just stay on this heading until our plastic retriever detects any tachyons-or we reach the north pole and freeze to death.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s a tachyon?”

“Good question. Up until now I thought it was just a theoretical unit that the physicists dreamed up in order to explain how the universe works. One of the subatomic entities that exist either as waves or particles. Until they are observed they have no real existence. It has been said, and who am I to doubt it, that they exist in a probabilities limbo of many possible superimposed states.” I noticed that Floyd’s jaw was beginning to drop, his eyes to glaze. He shook his head.

“You are going to have to try harder, Jim-you lost me a long time back.”

“Right, sorry. Try this. There are various kinds of units in physics. A photon is a unit of light energy and an electron is a unit of electric energy. Okay?”

“Great. With you so far.”

“A graviton is a unit of gravity and a tachyon a unit of time.”

“Lost me again. I thought minutes and seconds were units of time?”

“They are, Floyd, but just to simple people like you and I. Physicists tend to look at things in a different manner.”

“I believe it. Sorry I asked. Time for a break, five minutes in every hour.”

“You’re on.” I unstuck my canteen and took a swig, then whistled to our dogtrotting terminal that was almost out of sight. “Come back Fido, breakies.”

“You’re the boss,” Aida said. The dog scrambled back, barked and sniffed my pack where I had dropped it next to me on the ground.

“Not too much realism!” I shouted. “Don’t have that plastic canine lift its leg on my pack!”

The day went on like that. Apparently forever. We crawled across the landscape: the sun crawled across the sky. When w e had been walking for over five hours fatigue began to strike. Floyd was striding ahead at a great pace.

“Tired yet?” I called out.

“No. Great fun.”

“To those of us who weren’t bashed about by the red peril.”

“Just a bit more.”

The bit more went on a bit more than I appreciated and I was just about to toss in the towel when Fido spoke.

“Bow and wow, gentlemen. Just detected a couple of tachyons as they went whizzing by. Wasn’t sure of the first one but-there it is, another-and another!”

“Coming from where?” I asked.

“Directly ahead. Let’s just stay on this course and we’ll track the source down. With, perhaps, yes I’m sure, there is the strong possibility of a course deviation later.”

“Aha!” I aha’ed. “I recognize equivocation when I hear it. Even from a plastic dog mouthpiece for an ancient ship’s computer.”

“The word ancient is so hurtful . . .”

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