"You saved my life," Stinger gasped. "I'll never forget that." "Just skill," I said humbly. "After all, you are good with Bsts-" "And you're great with pigs!" "I wouldn't have phrased it exactly that way," I muttered. "Now let's get up into the hayloft where it is warm-and where we won't be seen. There is a long day ahead of us and I want to spend as much of it as I can sleeping. " It had been quite a night. I bun-owed into the hay, sneezed twice as the dust got into my nose-then must have fallen instantly asleep.
The next thing I knew Stinger was shaking me by the shoulder and sunlight was streaming between the boards in the wall. "Cops is here," he whispered.
I biinked the sleep from my eyes and looked through the crack. A green and white police floater was hovering outside the farmhouse door and two uniformed pug-uglies were showing a sheet to the farmer. He shook his head and his voice was clear above the farmyard sounds.
"Nope. Never seen neither of them. Never seen a soul in a week if you want to know. Fact is, kind of nice to talk to you fellers. These guys really look nasty, criminals you say..." "Pops, we ain't got all day. If you didn't see them they could still be hiding on your farm. Maybe in your barn?" "No way they could do that. Them's porcuswineout there. Most ornery critters in creation." "We still got to look. Orders are to search every building in the vicinity." The policemen started our way and there was a screech like an insane siren and the thud of sharp hooves. Around the corner of the barn-quills rattling with anger-came our friend of the night before. He charged and the police dived for their floater. The angry boar crashed into it, sending it rocking across the yard with a great dent in its side. The farmer nodded happily.
"Told you weren't no one in the barn. Little Larry here, he don't cotton onto strangers. But drop by anytime you're in the neighborhood, fellers..." He had to shout the last words because the floater was heading west with Little Larry in snorting pursuit.
"Now that is what I call beautiful," Stinger said, awe in his voice. I nodded silent agreement. Even the dullest of lives contain moments of pure glory.
Enough fun; time to work. I chewed on a straw and stretched out on the warm hay. "Porcuswine are nice when you know them." "The police don't seem to think so," he said.
"Guess not. That was the best thing I ever saw. I don't exactly get along with the police." "Who does? What you got sent up for, Jimmy?" "Bank robbery. Did you ever hold up a bank?" He whistled appreciation and shook his head no. "Not my style. I wouldn't know what to do first. Mudsluggings my style. Ain't been beat in nine years." "Knocking around the way you do you must meet a lot of people. Did you ever meet Smelly Schmuck?" I extemporized rapidly. "He and I did some banks in Graham State." "Never met him. Never even heard of him. You're the first bank robber I ever met." "Really? Well, I guess there aren't that many of us these days. But you must know some safecrackers. Or groundcar thieves?" All I got for my efforts was another shake of the head. "The only time I ever meet guys like you is in jail. I know some gamblers; they go around the mudslugging fights. But they're all two-buckers, losers. I did know one once who swore he knew The Bishop, long time ago." "The Bishop?" I said, blinking rapidly, trying to sum up what little I knew of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. "I don't go to church much these days..." "Not that kind of bishop. I mean The Bishop, the geezer used to clean out banks and things. Thought you would have heard of him." "Before my time, I guess." "Before everyone's time. This was years ago. Cops never got him, I hear. This two-bucker bragged he knew The Bishop, said that he had retired and was lying low. He must of been lying, two-bucker like him." Stinger knew no more than this and I hesitated to pump him too hard. Our conversation died away and we both dozed on and off until dark. We were thirsty and hungry, but knew that we had to remain undercover during daylight. I chewed on my straw and tried not to think of large beers and bottles of cold water, but thought about The Bishop instead. It was a thin lead, but was all that I had. By the time the sun went down I was hungry and thirsty and thoroughly depressed. My prison escapade had turned out to be a dangerous fiasco. Jails were for losers-that's about all I had found out. And in order to discover this fact I had risked life and limb. Never again. I took a silent oath to stay away from prison and the minions of the law in the future. Good criminals don't get caught. Like The Bishop, whoever he might be.
When. the last trace of light was gone from the sky we eased the barn door open. A bubbling grunt reached our A SrAZNLESS STEEL RAT IS BOBN 35 ears and a great form blocked our exit. Stinger gasped and I grabbed him before he could flee.
"Grab a stick and make yourself useftil," I said. "Ill teach you a new skill." So we scratched like crazy under the creature's quills while it grunted with pleasure. Trotting behind us like a pet dog when we finally left. "We got a friend for life," I said as we slipped out the gate and I waved goodbye to our porcine pal.
'Those kind of friends I can live without forever. You figure out what we do next?" "Absolutely. Advance planning, that's my middle name. There is a siding down this way where they transship from the linears to trucks. We stay away from it because the police are sure to be there. But all the trucks take the same road to the highway where there is a traffic control light. They have to stop until the highway computers see them and let them on. We go there-" "And break into the back of one of the trucks!" "You're learning. Only we get one in the right lane going west. Otherwise we end up back in the fine city of Pearly Gates and right after that in the prison we worked so hard to get out of." "Lead the way, Jim. You are the brainiest kid I ever met. You're going to go far." That was my expressed wish and I nodded quick agreement. I was just sorry that he wasn't going too. But I didn't want to live with some far-off yokel's life on my conscience-as much as he might deserve a little agro. But Stinger planned far more than that. I could not be party to a killing.
We found the road and waited in the bushes beside it. Two trucks rumbled up together-with the lights of another one following. We stayed out of sight. First one, then the second pulled out and headed east. When the third slowed down to stop for his turn, lights came on. West!
We ran, I was fumbling with the locking bar when Stinger shouldered me aside. He hauled down and the door swung open. The truck started forward and he pushed me up into it. He had to run as it started its turn-but grabbed the sill and pulled himself up with a single heave of those mighty arms. Between us we got the door closed but not sealed.
"We done it!" he said triumphantly.
"We certainly did. This truck is going in the right direction for you-but I have to get back to Pearly Gates as soon as the heat dies down. In about an hour well be passing through Biliville. I'll leave you there. " It was a quick trip. I swung down at the first stop for a light and he gripped my hand. "Good luck, kid," he called out as the truck pulled away. I couldn't wish him the same.
I dug out a buck coin as the truck rumbled way. And made a mental note of its registration number. As soon as it was out of sight I headed towards the lights of a phonebox. I felt like a rat as I punched the buttons for the police.
But, really, I had no choice.
Chapter 6
Unlike the hapless Stinger, I had a careftil escape plan worked out. Part of it was a literal misdirection for my late partner. He was not really stupid, so it shouldn't take him very long to figure out who had blown the whistle on him. If he talked and told the police that I had returned to the fine city of Pearly Gates-why that would be all for the better. I had no intention of leaving Biliville, not for quite a while. — The office had been rented through an agency and all transactions had been done by computer. I had visited it before my hopeless bank job, and at that time had left some supplies there. They would come in very handy right now. I would enter through the service door of the fully automated building-after turning off the alarms by using a concealed switch I had been prudent enough to install there. It had a timer built into it, so I had ten lazy minutes to get to the office. I yawned as I picked the lock, sealed the door behind me, then trudged up three flights of stairs. Past the dull eyes of the deactivated cameras and through the invisible-and inoperative-infrared beams. I picked the lock of the office door with two minutes to spare. I blanked the windows, turned on the lights-then headed for the bar.