The Stainless Steel Rat eBook Collection by Harry Harrison

lately,’ he muttered with senile suspicion.
    ‘Norwould you,’ I extemporised, bent over in the back seat and flipping through the maps quickly. ‘Because they took the train to Boskone, got off there, right at the station close to where the trail crosses the tracks. They’ll be waiting for me, troop leader and all. I would be afraid to be alone in the mountains, sir.’
    He muttered some more, muttered even louder when I forgot to tip him, then chuckledin his grey whiskers as he drove away because, childishly, I had then overtipped him. While resisting strongly the impulse to slip him a phoney five-buck coin. The sound of the motor died away and I looked at the well-marked trail as it wound up the valley – and realised that this had been a very good idea indeed.
    There is no point in waxing enthusiastic about the joys of the Great Outdoors.Like skiing, you do it and enjoy it, but don’t talk about it. All the usual things happened. My nose got sunburned, ants got into my bacon. The stars were incredibly clear and close at night, while the clean air did good things to my lungs. I walked and climbed, froze myself in mountain streams – and managed to forget my troubles completely. They seemed very out of place in this outdoor world. Refreshed,cleansed, tired but happy and a good deal thinner, I emerged from the mountains ten days later and stumbled through the door of the lodge where I had made a reservation. The hot bath was a blessing, and the cold beer no less. I turned on the 3V and got the tailend of the news, slumped down in the tub and listened with half an ear, too lazy to change channels.
    ‘ … reports a rise in ham exportsexceeding the four per cent growth predicted at the first of the year. The market for porcuswine quills is slipping however, and the government is faced with a quill mountain that is already drawing criticism.
    ‘Closer to home the computer criminal who broke into federal files goes on trial tomorrow. Federal prosecutors treat this as a most serious crime and want the death penalty reestablished.However …’
    His voice faded from my attention as his smarmy face vanished from the screen to be replaced by the computer criminal himself being led away by a squad of police. He was a big man, and very fat, with a mane of white hair. I felt a clutch in my chest just near the place I imagined my heart to be. Wrong colour hair – but wigs would take care of that. There was no mistaking him.
    It wasThe Bishop!
    I was out of the tub and across the room and hitting the framefreeze controls. It is a wonder I did not electrocute myself. Shivering with cold, and scarcely aware of it, I flipped back, then zoomed for detail. Enlarged the frame when he looked back over his shoulder for an instant. It was he – without a doubt.
    By the time I had wiped off the suds and dressed, the general shapeof my plans was clear. I had to get back to the city, to find out what had happened to him, to see what I could do to help. I punched up flight information; there was a mail flight just after midnight. I booked a seat, had a meal and a rest, paid my bill and was the first passenger aboard.
    It was just dawn when I entered my office in Billville. While the computer was printing out all the newsitems on the arrest, I made a pot of coffee. Sipping and reading, my spirits sank like a rock in a pond. It was indeed the man I knew as The Bishop, although he went under the name of Bill Vathis. And he had been apprehended leaving the Federal Building where he had installed a computer tap which he had been using to access Top Secret files. All of this had happened the day after I left on my escapistholiday.
    I had the sudden realisation of what this meant. Guilt assailed me because I was the one who had put him into jail. If I had not started my mad plan he would never have bothered with the federal files. He had only done that to see if the robberies had been part of a police operation.
    ‘I put him in jail – so I