“You had us worried,” one of them understated.
“I had
The slashes were superficial and soon bandaged; my numb leg hurt a good deal but was coming to life. I dragged it around in circles until some function was restored.
“That’s it,” I finally announced. “Now for the fun part.”
I led the way out of the room and down the dark corridor, walking fast in an attempt to get normal operation back into the leg. The boys fell a bit behind so that I was a good three metres ahead of them when I turned the corner. So they were still concealed when the amplified voice roared out.
Life is full of little moments like this—or at least
“Here is where we part,” I said. “And here are the computer programming codes.”
Bolivar took them by reflex, then shook his head as though to clear fuzz from his brain. “Dad, would you tell us…”
Of course. When I had to punch the window out I knew that the sound, as small as it was, would be picked up by the security alarms. Therefore I switched to plan B, neglecting to tell you about it in case you might protest. Plan B involves my making a diversion while you two get down to the computer room and finish this job. Using my Special Corps priorities I managed to get all the details you will need to get access to the IIER memory files and to wipe them clean. A simple instruction to the brainless computer will destroy the files of all the individuals for light years around who are lucky enough to have their last names begin with the letter D. I see myself, at times as a…”
“Dad!”
“I know, I’m sorry, I digress and ramble. After doing that you will also wipe the U and P files, in case they see some connection between my presence here and the destruction of the records. The selection of these other letters is not by chance…”
“Since
“Right you are, James, your brain cells are really ticking over tonight. Your task complete, you will be able to exit from the ground floor by way of one of the windows and mingle with the crowd without being apprehended. Now isn’t that a simple plan?”
“Except for the fact you get arrested it’s a grand one,” Bolivar said. “We can’t let you do it, Dad.”
“You can’t stop me—but the sentiment is appreciated. Be sensible, lads. Blood is much easier to identify than fingerprints, and they have plenty of mine to play with back in that room. So if I escape now I am a fugitive on the run as soon as they make the analysis—beside the fact that they have already seen me. In any case, your mother is in prison and I do miss her and look forward to joining her there. With the tax records destroyed all they can hold me on is breaking and entering and I can post bail and jump it and we will all leave this planet forever.”
“They may not allow bail,” James worried.
“In that case your parents will easily crack out of the local crib. Not to worry. Go to your task and I’ll off to mine. Return home afterward and get some sleep and I’ll be in touch. Begone.”
And, being sensible boys, they went. I returned to battle, pulling on goggles and inserting nose plugs. I had plenty of grenades—smoke, blackout, lachrymose, regurgitant—the IIER had made me throw up often enough and I wanted to return the favor—which I strewed about with great liberality. Someone began firing a gun, pretty stupid considering that he had a better chance of shooting his own people than of winging me. I waded into the smoke, found him, rendered him unconscious with a sharp blow that would give him a good-sized headache as well, then took the gun away. It had a full clip of bullets which I emptied into the ceiling.
“You’ll never catch Slippery Jim!” I shouted into the noisy darkness, then led my pack of pecuniary pirates on a merry chase through the large building. I estimated how long it would take the boys to finish the job, added fifteen minutes as a safety precaution, then gratefully dropped onto a couch in the director’s office, lit one of his cigars and relaxed.
“I surrender, I surrender,” I shouted out to my stumbling, crying, puking pursuers, “you are too smart for me. Just promise that you won’t torture me.”
They crept in cautiously, their ranks swollen by the local police who had come to see what all the fun was about, as well as by a squad of combat troops in full battle gear. “All this for little me,” I said, blowing a smoke ring in their direction. “I feel flattered. And I want to make a statement to the press about how I was kidnapped, brought here unconscious, then frightened and pursued. I want my lawyer.”
Indeed they lacked any sense of humor and I was the only one smiling when I was led away. There was not too much rough stuff, too many people around for that, as well as the fact that it really went against the Blodgett personality. The best selling chewing gum on the planet was called Cud, and they really chewed it. Sirens screamed, cars raced and I was hauled off in irons.
Though not to prison, that was the funny part. We did reach the prison gate but were stopped at the entrance where there was a lot of shouting and even some fist waving. Then back into the cars and off again to the town hall where, to my surprise, the manacles were removed before I was led into the building. I knew something strange was happening when I was pushed through an unmarked door—with at least one boot toe helping me on my way. The door closed, I brushed my rumpled clothes, then turned and raised my eyebrows at the familiar figure in the chair behind the desk.
“What a pleasant surprise,” I said. “Been keeping well…?”
“I ought to have you shot, diGriz,” he snarled.
Inskipp, my boss, head of the Special Corps, probably the man with the single greatest amount of power in the galaxy. The Special Corps was empowered by the League to keep the interstellar peace, which it did in exemplary fashion. If not always in the most honest way. It has been said that you set a thief to catch a thief—and the Corps personified this ideal. At one time, before joining the Corps, Inskipp had been the biggest crook in the lenticular galaxy; an inspiration to us all. I am forced to admit that I too had led a less than exemplary life before my forced conversion to the powers of goodness. An incomplete conversion, as you may have noticed, though I like to feel that my heart is in the right place. Even if my fingers are not. I took out the blank pistol that I carried for just such occasions and pressed it to the side of my head.
“If you think I should be shot, great Inskipp, then I can but help you. Goodbye cruel world…” I pulled the trigger and it made a satisfactory bang.
“Stop horsing around, diGriz. This is serious.”
“It always is with you, whereas I believe that a certain amount of levity aids the digestion. Let me take that thread from your lapel.”
I did, and slipped his cigar case from his pocket at the same time. He was so distracted that he did not notice this until I lit up and offered him one as well. He snatched the case back.
“I need your help,” he said.
“Of course. Why else would you be here fixing charges and such. Where is my darling Angelina?”
“Out of jail and on the way home to curb your larcenous offspring. The morons on this planet may not know what has happened to their tax files but
