away and could not be suppressed. 'Even more interesting is where do the men think the babies come from?'
'Why don't you ask them?' Mata said coldly and I realized that this interview was at an end.
'Now I really am tired - to be continued,' I breathed, dropping back into the couch. 'Is there a doctor in the house?'
This kicked a lot of maternal instinct into gear and extracted a great deal of attention. I didn't feel the injection that knocked me out. Or the one that brought me to much later. The women were gone and we were alone. Madonette was holding my hand. Which she dropped with slow deliberation when she saw that my eyes were open.
'The good news, stalwart Jim, is that none of your bones are broken. Just a lot of bruising. Better news is that the treatment for the bruises is under way. Best news is that Steengo is in pretty good shape, all things considered, and wants to see you.'
'Bring him in.'
'In a moment. While you were sleeping I talked to Mata. She told me a lot more about how things work around here.'
'Did you find out about the babies?'
'She really is a nice person, Jim. Everyone here has been very nice to me and…'
'But you are beginning to have some reservations?'
She nodded. 'More than a few. Things look so nice on the surface - and maybe they are. But it is the babies that bother me. I am sure that they are well taken care of physically, even mentally. But to believe a stupid myth!'
'Which one of the stupid myths going about is the one that bothers you?'
'Spontaneous creation would you believe! All the males gather around Iron John's pool for a ceremony of life. The golden balls drift up through the water and are seized. And each one contains a healthy happy baby! And grown men believe that nonsense!'
'Grown men - and women - have believed worse nonsense down through the ages. This myth was a common one for the so-called lower forms of life. Flies being spontaneously created in manure heaps. Because no one bothered making the connection between grubs growing there and flies laying eggs. All of the creation myths of mankind, all the gods dropping down and molding clay and breathing life, the virgin births and the like. They are all nonsense once they are examined. But we have to start somewhere I suppose. I'm just not happy where some of these people are ending up.'
There was a rattle and a thump as the door was opened. Floyd pushed in the wheelchair and Steengo lifted a whitewrapped hand.
'Looks like you did it, Jim. End of mission. Congratulations.'
'And the same to you - and Floyd. And since it is The Stainless Steel Rats together, perhaps for the last time, would you mind making a few things clear. I have long felt that there was more than random chance in your selection. Dare I ask just who are you three people? I suspect that you were chosen for more than musical ability - right Steengo?'
He nodded his bandaged head. 'Almost right. Madonette is just what she appears to be… '
'Just an office drudge - singing for a hobby.'
'The office's loss is music's gain.' I smiled and blew a kiss her way. 'One down, two to go. Steengo, I have a feeling that you really aren't retired. Right?'
'Right. And I do take some pride in my musical abilities. Which, if you must know, was why I was suckered into this operation by my old drinking buddy, Admiral Benbow.'
'Drinking buddy! He who drinks with an admiral… '
'Must be an admiral too. Perfectly correct, I am Arseculint…'
'I didn't quite catch that.'
'Arseculint is an acronym for Area Sector Commander Cultural Intercourse. And you can uncurl your lip. Perhaps, in context, 'intercourse' is not quite the right word. Cultural Relationships might express it better. My degrees are in archeology and cultural anthropology, which is what attracted me to the civil service in the first place. Sort of hands-on application of theory. I followed the matter of the alien artifact with a great deal of interest. So I was ripe for the plucking, you might say, when Stinky Benbow asked me to volunteer.'
'Stinky?'
'Yes, funny nickname, goes back to the academy, something to do with a chemistry experiment. Which is completely beside the point. I thought enough of this assignment to take a leave from my desk. Great fun. Up until the last, that is.'
'Which leaves young Floyd here? Also an admiral?'
He looked sheepish. 'Come on, Jim, you know better than that. I even washed out of college, never graduated at all…'
I pointed an accusatory finger. 'Putting academic credits aside you must have some value to the Special Corps.'
'Yes, well, I do. I really am sort of an instructor…'
'Speak up, Floyd,' Steengo said proudly. 'Being chief instructor in charge of the unarmed defense school is nothing to be ashamed of.'
'I agree completely!' I said. 'If you weren't a whiz kid in unarmed combat, why none of us would be here. Thanks guys. Mission complete and successful. Let's drink to that.'
As we raised and clashed our glasses together, drank deep, I thought of my mother. I do this very rarely; it must be all the male-female myth dredging that brought her to mind. Or what she used to say. Very superstitious my Ma. Had a superstition for any occasion. The one that I remember best was when you said how great things were, or what a nice day it was. Bite your tongue she used to say.
Meaning don't tempt the gods. Keep your head down. Because saying that something was good would surely bring about the opposite.
Bite your tongue, good old Ma. What a lot of malarky.
When I lowered my glass I saw a woman stumble in through the open door. A young woman with torn clothing, dusty and staggering.
'Sound the alarm… ' she gasped. 'Disaster, destruction!'
Madonette caught her as she fell, listened to her whispered words, looked up with a horrified expression.
'She's hurt, babbling… something about the science building, destroyed, gone. Everything.'
That was when I felt the cold tongs grab tight to my chest, squeezing so hard they made speech almost impossible.
'The artifact - ' was all I managed to say.
Madonette nodded slow agreement. 'That's where it was, they told me. In the science building. So it must be gone too.'
Chapter 21
The mutual decision of The Stainless Steel Rats was a simple one: we had had about enough for one day. We were alive, if not too well. We had found the artifact so our mission was accomplished. The fact that it had also been destroyed was beside the fact. I hoped. They would have to supply me with the poison antidote now. I kept that thought firmly before me as I went to sleep. This was a time for rest. Wounds had to heal, tissue had to mend, fatigue had to be alleviated: medication and a good night's sleep took care of all of that.
The sun was shining brilliantly upon the garden of our new residence when I dragged myself there next morning. Sleep had banished fatigue, which meant that I felt all the bruises that much more enthusiastically. My medication was beginning to override the pain and I dropped into a chair while I waited for beneficence to take place. Steengo came in soon after, swinging along on crutches and looking very much like I felt. He eased himself into the chair opposite me. I smiled a welcoming smile.
'Good morning, Admiral.'
'Please, Jim - I'm still Steengo.'
