in prison. Strict neutrality is enforced to the letter on Neeka. Therefore, partisan natives, such as myself, and the man we're after have to go underground. "Now, it would be as easy to smuggle in a subspace transmitter as it was to smuggle in your rats, but hiding it would be an entirely different matter. It's a huge piece of hardware and it needs a large power supply"
"So the man we're after," Orz broke in, " is someone with easy access to an off-planet source of information, and a place big enough to hide a subspace -transmitter without arousing suspicion."
"And a warehouse right here in port has the size and access to the necessary power," Jessica concluded. "Since the members of the Traders League own all the warehouses, they are the obvious target for investigation."
"But which one?"
She shrugged. "Their security is too tight for me to do much snooping. The only way to get into those warehouses is to be invited in. That's where Ratman comes in."
Orz was thoughtful. "It really shouldn't be too difficult I was informed by the Traders League when they retained me that their warehouses are fully automated and computer-operated."
"With a population density as low as Neeka’s Jessica added, "labor is anything but cheap."
"Right," he continued. "And, if I wanted to hide a subspace radio in one of those warehouses, I'd disguise it as part of the automation works and no one would ever be the wiser. All I've got to do tomorrow, when I go into the warehouses, is keep my eyes open for an unusually large computer-automation rig. When I find it I’ll just 'accidentally' expose it as a subspace transmitter. The Neekan authorities will take care of our spy after that."
He suddenly halted his pacing and snapped his fingers. "Forgot to turn off the call signal for the rats. . . I'll be right back."
"Mind if I come along?" Jessica asked.
"Not at all."
She watched Orz's back as he led her down the narrow corridor to the bridge. "Can I call you something other than 'Ratman?'"
He grinned over his shoulder. "Sam will do fine."
"O.K., Sam: how did you get started in all this?"
"Well, I got the idea a few years ago and thought I was a genius until I started looking for backers. Everyone I approached thought I was either a swindler, or a nut. As a last desperate hope I went to IBA."
"What's IBA
"Interstellar Business Advisers. It's a private company with some pretty canny people working for them. They dug up somebody who promised to back me halfway, then they approached the Federation with this
undercover idea. Since I'd be able to get on otherwise unfriendly planets, the Federation put up the rest of the money. So now I'm a full-time Ratman and a part-time Fed man. And when my reputation spreads, IBA has got some ideas for starting a corporation and selling franchises."
They entered the bridge as he was speaking and Jessica noticed that it was as meticulously ordered as his quarters. Two additions to the standard console caught her eye immediately.
"Improvements?" she asked, pointing to a brace of toggle switches.
Orz flipped one of the toggles to "off' and turned to her. "Those are the high-frequency signals for my rats. They've got an effective range of about two kilometers and when a rat hears the proper tone, he makes a beeline for this ship."
"And what's that?" She indicated a bright red lever with three safety,s catches and "Danger" written in' white letters along its length.
The lightness left his voice. "For the direst of emergencies only," replied.
Feminine curiosity aroused, Jessica went to touch it. "What does it do?"
"That's my secret," Orz replied with a tight smile and snatched wrist away from the lever. "I've to use it and I hope the day never comes when I do." To draw her attention elsewhere he pointed to
far wall. "See that inconspicuous little switch over there by the intercom speaker? When that's in the down position—like now—the controls are locked,"
"You're just full of tricks, aren't you?" she said, trying to hide a smile. He was like a little boy showing off a new toy.
"Can't be too careful."
Lesno, Rabb, Houghton and a few others were ready and waiting when Orz pulled up in front of the Traders League offices with the truck.
"Straight ahead," said Lesno as he hopped in beside Orz. "We'll start with Rabb's places first since they're the closest." Two left turns brought them up before a huge structure With a "Rabb & Co." sign above the sliding doors. Orz waited until the others had arrived, then addressed the group.
"First of all," he told them, "you must keep all humans away from any warehouse where, my rats are at work, so give whatever employees you have the day off. Next, let me explain that space rats set up a close-knit community within a warehouse—one community per warehouse—and that each community has a leader who achieved his position by being the most cunning and the most ferocious in the community."
He reached into the back of the truck and brought oat a simple cage. Inside was a very large and very vicious-looking space rat. "This is one of my Judas rats. I've selectively
bred them for ferocity and any one of these is a match for any three ordinary space rats. Within hours after his release, my Judas rat will have established himself at the top of the community's pecking order."
Once again Orz reached into the back of the truck and brought out a cage, but this one was larger and empty. "Normally a space rat wouldn't go near a trap like this, but he'll follow the Judas if the Judas is the community leader. And once the community has followed him inside and is buy at the bait, the Judas hops outside, releases this catch and a spring closes and locks the door. He then returns to the ship. The cage is made of a lightweight titanium alloy that not even a space rat's teeth can dent." He held up the cage. "Tomorrow morning this should be filled with a community of very angry space rats."
"Is that’s all there is to it?" Hough-ton blurted incredulously. Orz could imagine the man's mind tallying and totaling, and deciding that no matter what his overhead, Ratman charged too much. "This is outrageous! I’ll have nothing to do with such nonsense! We're being hoodwinked!"
Somebody doesn't want me in his warehouse, Orz thought and was about to say something when Rabb beat him to it
"The League has already retained Ratman, Malcomb, and we voted to use the treasury to do so ... remember? So you have, in effect, already paid for his services, and it
would be foolish of you not to take advantage of them."
Houghton paused, considering Rabb's words, then he glanced at the cage and shrugged. "I guess I don't have much choice," he said sullenly and turned toward his car. "Let me know when you get to my places."
It was late in the day when they finally did get around to Houghton's warehouses, but Orz had preferred it that way. He had his suspicions and wanted to see as many of the other warehouses as possible before confronting Houghton. There had been nothing suspect in the others, although Lesno's computer setups had been somewhat larger than most, but nowhere near big enough to house a subspace radio.
Houghton met them outside.
"I've only got a few cages left," Orz told him, "so we'll do as many as we can and I'll get the rest tomorrow after I collect the cages I've set out today."
"Might as well start with the main house," Houghton replied and led them toward the largest building of his complex. The doors slid open to reveal a huge expanse of concrete floor with crates and boxes stacked almost to the ceiling. Huge cranes— controlled by a computer that knew the exact location of every item in storage—swung from above. Looming against the far wall was a large, metal-paneled structure.
Orz pointed to it. "Is that your computer?"
"Yes," the bearded man replied absently, "now let's get on with this . . . I haven't got all day."
"Mind if I take a look at it?" Orz asked and started walking toward it. This was what he had been looking for; it was big enough to house two subspace transmitters. "Rats love to nest in those things, you know."
"I assu
re you there are no rats in there so stay away from it!" Hough-ton almost shouted. He began to follow Orz and Lesno and Rabb trailed along.
Orz went to the nearest inspection plate and began loosening the screws which held it in- place.
"Get away from there!" Houghton yelled as he came up. "You don't know what you're doing! You could mess up my whole operation!"
"Look, if I'm going to do my job right, I've got to check this out!" The inspection plate came off in his hands then and he stuck his head inside. Nothing unusual. He replaced it and went to the next plate with the same result. Four more inspection plates later he was sure mere was no subspace transmitter hidden within.
Houghton was standing behind him and tugging angrily on his beard as Orz replaced the last screw. "Are you quite through, Ratman?"
Orz stood and faced him. "Awful big computer you've got there, Mr.; Houghton," he said matter-of-factly. He was chagrined, but refused to; show it.
"That's the computer for my. whole operation. I found it easier to
centralize the system: instead of installing new unite all the time, I just add to the central unit and feed it into the new buildings as they are built. It's much more convenient."
"More economical, too, I’ll bet," Orz added laconically.
"Why, yes. How did you know?"
"Lucky guess."
Jessica was waiting for him back at the ship. "Don't bother telling me you didn't find anything," she said as he collapsed in a chair, "that look on your face tells me the whole story."
"I was so sure it was Houghton! The way he objected to the League retaining me, the way he tried to rake me over the coals at the meeting last night, the way he blew up this morning, I was sure he had something to hide. Turns out he's only a cheapskate with a centralized computer."
"What makes you so sure he hasn't got it stashed somewhere else?" Jessica asked, coming over and handing him a drink.
He accepted it gratefully and took a long slow swallow before answering. "I'm not sure of anything right now. But, if that transmitter's here— and we know it is—it's got to be in one of those warehouses. Which reminds me ..." He got to his feet slowly and trudged to the rat room.
Jessica didn't follow, but glanced out into the corridor when she heard the clang of cage doors. Furry gray and brown shapes were scurrying toward the hatch.
"What are you. up to?" she asked as Orz reappeared.
"I had a brainstorm on my way back to the ship. We’ll find out if it worked tomorrow." '
Orz noticed Jessica in the crowd outside Rabb's main warehouse. She smiled and winked mischievously, knowing he couldn't acknowledge her. The crowd was waiting to see if Ratman could live up to his claims and watched intently as he and Rabb disappeared inside. An uncertain cheer began and died as he reappeared dragging—with little help from Rabb—a cageful of clawing, squealing, snarling, snapping space rats. Having retreated to what it considered a safer distance, the crowd applauded.
Lesno strode forward, beaming. "Well, Ratman, I knew you could do it! But what are you going to do with the little monsters now that you've caught them?"
"Most of them will have to be. gassed and killed, but I'll save a few of the best for breeding purposes ... I like to keep my working stock as strong as possible."
They completed the rounds of Rabb's buildings, then moved on to Lesno's. The novelty had worn off. and the crowd was beginning to thin by the time they got around to Lesno's third warehouse, but interest was renewed at the sound of Orz's voice calling from within.
"Mr. Lesno! There's something you ought to see in here!"
Lesno, went in. Rabb, Houghton and some of the braver members of the crowd—Jessica among them—followed him in.
It looked as if a bomb had gone off inside. Every crate, every package had been torn open. Even some of the computer paneling had been torn away.
"What happened?" Lesno cried, staggered by the destruction.
Orz shrugged and pointed to the full cage. "I don't know. There's your community, caged and ready to go. But I've never seen anything like this before."
Houghton was looking over the ravaged computer. "Never seen a computer that looked like this," he muttered. "Is this some new model, Aaron?" he asked Lesno.
Rabb came up. "Looks like part of a subspace radio!"
"Ridiculous!" Lesno sputtered. "What would I be doing with—"
"You're a spy!" Houghton declared. "A Federation spy!"
A blaster suddenly appeared in Lesno's hand. "Don't insult me by linking me to the Federation!"
Houghton shrugged. "So you're a Restructurist spy, then. Just as bad. You get twenty years either way."
"I'm not going to argue with you, Malcomb. Just stay where you are."
"You can't escape, Aaron!" Rabb warned.
Lesno smiled. "Of course I can," he said and pointed the blaster at Orz. "Ratman is going to volunteer the use of his ship. He's even going
to come along for the tide to make sure no one gets trigger-happy."
Orz caught Jessica's eye. She was readying to make a move, but he shook his head. They had succeeded in destroying Lesno's effectiveness as a spy. It didn't matter if he escaped. And so, with a blaster at the back of his head, Orz preceded the little man to the truck.
"You work for the Federation, don't you?" Lesno said as Orz drove them toward the spaceport.
"I'm afraid I don't have time to work for anyone other than Sam Orzechowski."
"Come now, Ratman. I was suspicious yesterday when I saw the way you gave Houghton's computer a going over and this morning's revelation confirmed my suspicions. Why deny it?"
Orz shrugged. "O.K.., I occasionally do some snooping for the Federation."
"How did you get on to me?" Lesno asked earnestly. "I thought I had a foolproof arrangement."
"Well, I wasn't sure, but Houghton's centralized setup started me on a new approach. I figured that if one man could centralize his computers, another could decentralize a sub-space transmitter. Then it struck me that you'd have to take the transmitter apart in order to sneak it into town. And since it was already in pieces, why not leave it that way? At least that's what I would have done. So the next thing to do was to look
for the man with the slightly larger computers. You fit the bill."
"But how did-you manage to tear the place apart?"
"That was easy. If you could go hack to that warehouse now, you'd find a tiny, high-frequency labeler attached to the door. I have a "number of vandal rats trained to be specialists in making a mess out of a building. The labeler told them where to go to work."
Shaking his head in admiration, Lesno remarked, "You should be working for us."
"But I don't want a Restructured Federation," Orz replied. "I sort of like it the way it is."
"But there are such inequalities in the galaxy! Some planets are drowning in their surpluses while other planets are starving, and the Federation does nothing!"
"The Federation doesn't think such matters are within its scope."
"They will be when we win!" Lesno replied righteously.
Orz knew argument was futile and allowed a shrug to be his only reply.
Once on the ship, it was evident to Orz that Lesno knew his way around freighters. He retracted the ramp, secured the hatch and then followed Orz to the bridge.
He gestured to the extra seat "You just sit there and keep out of the way, Mr. Ratman, and you won't get hurt. I'm not a murderer. If all goes well, I'll drop you off at the first neutral port we reach. But I won't
hesitate to shoot you if you, try anything."
"Don't worry," Qrz told him. "My mission was to stop you, not capture you. I really don't ,care if you.get way."
Lesno's eyes narrowed. This lack of chauvinism did not fit his conception of a Fed man. Something was up. His suspicions were reinforced when he found the console inoperable.
"Where's the lock?" he demanded.
Orz pointed across the room. "By the speaker." But Lesno made no move.
Instead his eyes roved the room until they came to rest on the red lever. His face creased into a smile.
"You didn't think anyone would be fooled by that, did you?"
Orz nearly leaped from his seat as the Restructurist reached for the lever. "Don't touch that!"
"Sitdown!" Lesno warned, pointing die gun at Orz's chest "I told you before, I'm not a killer but—"
"I know you're not!" Orz said frantically. "Neither am I. That's why you've got to leave that lever alone!"
Lesno merely smiled and kept him covered while he released the first two safety catches. "listen to me, Lesno! That lever sets off a special tone stimulus and releases every one of my rats! They've all been trained to attack anyone and everyone but me when they hear that tone ... I installed it for use in a situation when it was either kill or be killed!
This is not one of those situations!"
Lesno was having some trouble with the third catch, but it finally yielded. "A good try, Ratman," he said and, ignoring Orz's cry of protest, pulled the lever.
Faintly, from far down the corridor, came a metallic clang. A load, wailing tone filled the ship. Lesno paled and turned anxiously toward his captive.
"Why didn't you listen to me, you fool!" Orz yelled.
Lesno suddenly believed. Horror stricken, he began to push and pull the lever back and forth but with no effect. He was still working at it when the squealing, gray brown carpet swept through the door.
Orz turned away and tried unsuccessfully to block out the screams and sickening sounds of carnage that filled the bridge. He had trained the rats too well. . . there would be no stopping them.
And when all was quiet again, Orz congratulated himself on having kept his stomach in place. But then 62 leaped up- to his accustomed spot on his shoulder and began with great contentment to clean his reddened claws and jowls.
Only Jessica came to see him off, Orz bad cleaned up the rat problem and the people were appreciative, but they had either seen the corpse that had been removed from his ship, or they had heard about it