Stainless Steel Rat 11: The Stainless Steel Rat Returns by Harry Harrison

strolled over to the settlement we found that all the houses had drawn curtains and locked doors. Even when I knocked loudly there was no response. Angelina watched my frustration grow and put a gentle restraining hand on my arm.
    “I’m going to talk to some of my sewing friends about this. Never underestimate the gentler way.”
    With some reluctance I nodded agreement. “You’re right of course. Do it—I’ll wait here.”
    Nor did it take long. She soon reappeared, smiling happily.
    “Good as done. They see the wisdom of a high-level conference and a number of them are talking to Bilboa right now.”
    What unseen pressures lurked behind that simple statement! Why did I feel sorry for him?
    Only a short time passed before a gray-haired woman appeared and waved us over. “He’s in there,” she said, pointing to the open door of a nearby building.
    “I’ll leave you to it,” Angelina said. “I’ve been invited to tea.”
    “Enjoy. And thanks for the gentle touch.”
    But there was nothing gentle about Bilboa, or the score of gray-beards who were sitting beside him and scowling furiously.
    “Well, gentlemen,” I said coldly, just as grim as they were. “We are facing a problem that must be solved.”
    When I returned to the ship, Angelina, ever understanding, handed me a large glass of cool amber liquid when I had dropped into a welcoming chair.
    “It wasn’t easy convincing them, but I had to win eventually. I finally persuaded them that the only way they would be rid of us, and our repulsive eating habits, was by taking us to the city. We leave tonight, as soon as it is dark. When we get there the oxcarts will wait deep in the woods to bring us back. If they do that, I promised we would be gone within twenty-four hours.”
    “I think I shall miss Floradora and my new friends. They are really very nice people.”
    “Agreed. But I’m afraid they don’t think very much of us. Now—I feel it is time to get a bit of rest. It is going to be very, very busy come dawn tomorrow.”
    The promised oxcarts were waiting—a long line of them for our troops. The soldier-farmers chattered among themselves, excited by this break in their daily routine. I don’t think they truly understood what we were up to. Nor did they have to. We had rehearsed their assigned roles and they had mastered all the complexities of hiding behind the trees. Step forward into the clearing when ordered to. Shout loudly and shake the wooden guns. To then step back behind the trees. It took a number of rehearsals before they got this hideously complicated procedure right. They carried baskets of food and jugs of hard cider and treated the whole affair as a holiday. A fool’s paradise.
    Enough! I wasn’t going to spend the trek worrying. I knew what must be done and I would do it. I grabbed the jug from a passing yokel and took a long drag. Angelina appeared at this moment—fetchingly dressed in black.
    “Your hat,” she said, passing over a cloth-wrapped bundle. “They had to smuggle it out, but they were as good as their word.”
    I peeled away the cloth and gasped. “Formidable!” And indeed it was. The blackest of blacks. A deep, dark visor and above, circling the crown, a tasteful line of skulls and crossbones. I pulled it on and Angelina clapped.
    “Most impressive!”
    “Thank you.” I pointed to the oxcarts. “On to victory!”
    Or axle-squeaking boredom. I did manage to nap a bit as we lurched on through the night. There were almost three hours to dawn when we reached our destination, what Bilboa assured us was the correct location. There was enough light from the two moons to pick out the path among the trees to reach the edge of the clearing. And there, looming up above us, was the dark and menacing bulk of the city.
    Standing below the high walls, looking at its sinister outline, I was suddenly depressed. Were all my plans just smoke and mirrors? How could my bluffing approach fool anyone?
    Angelina put her arm