“As a matter of fact, I'd love one,” she replied, sighing with relief as they stepped back into the corridor. Orz looked at her curiously. “It gets a little dry and dusty sitting under a loading ramp,” she explained with a tight smile.
With Jessica seated in his spartan, fastidiously neat living quarters with her hand around a cold gin and tonic, Orz began to talk business. “Federation Intelligence only gave me a sketchy idea of what's going on here. You were to fill me in on the rest, so why don't I tell you what I know and you take it from there.”
“Go ahead,” she told him.
Drink in hand, Orz paced the room as he spoke. “Let's start with this planet. Neeka is a fiercely independent, sparsely populated world which exports a lot of food and imports a lot of hardware. Formerly a splinter world, it agreed to trade with the Federation but refused to join it. They were asked to join the Restructurists in their revolt against the Federation but turned them down. They want absolutely no part of the war…and I can't say as I blame them.
“However: The Haas Warp Gate is right outside this star system and the convoys stack up in this area before being shot through to the battle zones. Fed agents discovered a turncoat feeding information on the size and destinations of the convoys to someone on this planet. That someone, in turn, was transmitting the info to the Restructurists via subspace radio. He's been stopped temporarily, but as soon as he makes another contact, he'll be in business again. I was told to meet you here and stop him. That's all I know.”
Jessica nodded and drained her drink. “Right. But subspace transmissions can't be traced so we had to depend on deductive reasoning. First of all, you're allowed to be pro-Federation, or pro-Restructurist on Neeka, and you're allowed to talk all you want about either cause. Nobody minds. But try to do something to aid either cause and you wind up 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 Advisors. 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 catches and “Danger” written in white letters along its length.
The lightness left his voice. “For the direst of emergencies only,” he 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 her wrist away from the lever. “I've yet to use it and I hope the day never comes when I do.” To draw her attention elsewhere he pointed to the 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 amp; 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 out 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 busy 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.”