Free The Stainless Steel Rat eBook Collection by Harry Harrison

down, get too much sleep– then not enough sleep. And take pleasure only in the construction of plans and apparatus for this bold foray into the pockets of the public.
    On the night in question it was raining heavily – which suited me perfectly. I turned up the collar of my black coat, jammed my black hat down on my head, then seized up the black case that held the musical instrument. A horn of some kind. This wasmadeobvious by the swollen shape at one end where the case swelled out to accommodate the bell. It might be a crumpaphone or even a dagennet. Public transportation took me close to the stage entrance to the theatre. As I walked the rest of the way I soon found myself braving the elements among other black-garbed, instrument-bearing musicians. I had my pass ready, but the doorman just waved us throughand out of the rain. There was little chance that anyone would question my identity because I was only one of 230. For tonight was the premier of what was sure to be a head-destroying piece of so-called music modestly entitled
Collision of Galaxies
scored for 201 brass instruments and 29 percussion. The composer, Moi-Woofter Geeyoh, was not known for the delicate dissonances of her compositions.The choice of this piece of music had also made this the night of my choice; even reading the score gave one a headache.
    There was a shortage of dressing rooms for the musical multitude and they were milling about all over the place emitting lost noises. No one noticed when I slipped away, drifted up a back staircase – and let myself into a janitorial broom-closet. The service staff had longdeparted so I would not be disturbed – other than by the music. Nevertheless I locked the door from the inside. When I heard the sounds of tuning up I took out my copy of the score of
Collision.
    It started out calmly enough – after all the galaxies had to get on stage before they could collide. I followed the score with my finger until it reached the red mark I had placed there. The score foldedneatly into my pocket as I carefully unsealed the door and looked out. Corridor empty, as it should be. With steady tread I walked down the corridor, the floor of which was already beginning to throb with impending galactic destruction.
    The door was labelled PRIVATE – KEEP OUT. I took the black mask from one pocket, removed my hat and pulled the mask on, extracted the key to the door from another.I did not want to waste time with lockpicks so had made this key when I had scouted this location. I hummed along with the music – if that could be said to be possible – with the key in the lock. At the correct destructive crash I opened the door and stepped into the office.
    My entrance had, of course, been unheard, but my movements caught the older man’s eye. He turned and stared and the penhe had been using dropped from his limp fingers. His hands reached towards the ceiling when I drew the impressive – and fake – gun from my inside pocket. The otherand younger man could not be threatened and dived to the attack. And continued to dive unconscious to the floor, knocking over and breaking a chair on the way.
    None of this made a sound. Or rather it made a lot of sound, none of whichcould be heard over the music that was now rapidly working itself up to a crescendo that would drown out the crack of doom. I moved fast because the really loud parts were coming close.
    I took two pairs of handcuffs from a coat pocket and locked the older man’s ankle to his desk, then pulled his arms down before they got tired. I next secured the sleeping dreamer the same way. Almost time. Itook the plastic explosive from another pocket – yes, there
were
a lot of pockets in this garment, and not by chance either – and slapped it to the front of the safe. Right over the time lock. They must have felt very secure here with their careful arrangements. All the night’s ample receipts had been locked away in the safe in the presence of armed guards. To remain