the stainless steel rat-第16部分

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arm；　and　I　fought　for　corpselike　rigidity　as　the　stretcher　trundled　along。
　　　　　Somewhere　behind　me　a　heavy　door　opened　and　a　wave　of　frigid　air　struck　my　skin。　I　allowed　myself　a　quick　look　through　my　lashes。　If　the　corpses　in　this　chop　shop　were　stashed　into　individual　freezers　I　was　about　to　be　suddenly　restored　to　life。　I　could　think　of　a　lot　more　pleasant　ways　of　dying　than　in　an　icebox　with　the　door　handle　on　the　outside。　Lady　Luck　was　still　galloping　along　at　my　shoulder　because　my　toe…amputator　was　dragging　me；　stretcher　and　all；　into　a　good…sized　room。　There　were　slabs　on　all　sides　and　a　number　of　dearly　departed　had　already　arrived　before　me。
　　　　　With　no　attempt　at　gentleness　I　was　slid　onto　a　freezing　surface。　Footsteps　went　away　from　me　across　the　room；　the　door　closed　heavily　and　the　lights　went　out。
　　　　　My　morale　hit　bottom　at　this　moment。　I　had　been　through　a　lot　for　one　day；　and　was　thoroughly　battered；　bruised；　contused　and　concussed。　Being　locked　in　a　black　room　full　of　corpses　had　an　unusually　depressing　effect　on　me。　In　spite　of　the　pain　in　my　chest　and　the　tag　trailing　from　my　toe；　I　managed　to　slide　off　the　slab　and　hobble　to　the　door。　Panic　grew　as　I　lost　my　direction；　easing　off　only　when　I　walked　square　into　the　wall。　My　fingers　found　a　switch　and　the　lights　came　back　on。　And　of　course　my　moral　fiber　stiffened　at　the　same　moment。
　　　　　The　door　was　perfectly　designed；　I　couldn't　have　done　better　myself；　with　no　window　and　a　handle　on　the　inside。　There　was　even　a　bolt　so　that　it　could　be　locked　from　this　side；　though　for　what　hideous　reason　I　couldn't　possibly　imagine。　It　gave　me　some　needed　privacy　though；　so　I　slipped　it　into　place。
　　　　　Although　the　room　was　full；　no　one　was　paying　any　attention　to　me。　The　first　thing　I　did　was　unwind　the　wire　and　massage　some　life　back　into　my　numb　toe。　On　the　yellow　tag　were　the　large　black　letters　D。O。A。　and　a　handwritten　number；　the　same　one　that　had　been　on　the　form　I　had　altered。　This　was　too　good　an　opportunity　to　miss。　I　took　the　tag　off　the　toe　of　the　most　badly　battered　male　corpse　and　substituted　mine。　His　tag　I　pocketed；　then　spent　a　merry　few　minutes　changing　around　all　the　other　tags。　During　this　process　I　took　a　right　shoe　from　the　corpse　with　the　biggest　feet　and　jammed　my　frozen　left　foot　into　it。　All　the　tags　were　hung　from　the　left　big　toe　and　I　loudly　cursed　such　needless　precision。　My　chest　was　bare　where　my　shipsuit　and　bulletproof　cover　had　been　cut　away。　One　of　my　silent　friends　had　a　warm　shirt　he　didn't　need；　so　I　borrowed　that　too。
　　　　　Don't　think　for　a　Second　that　all　this　was　easy。　I　was　staggering　and　mumbling　to　myself　while　I　did　it。　When　it　was　finished　I　slapped　off　the　light　and　cracked　the　door　of　the　freezer。　The　air　from　the　hall　felt　like　a　furnace。　There　wasn't　a　soul　in　sight　so　I　closed　the　vault　and　staggered　over　to　the　nearest　door。　It　was　to　a　storeroom　and　the　only　thing　there　that　I　could　use　was　a　chair。　I　sat　in　this　as　long　as　I　dared；　then　went　looking　again。　The　next　door　was　locked　but　the　third　one　opened　to　a　dark　room　where　I　could　hear　someone　breathing　evenly　in　his　sleep。　This　was　more　like　it。
　　　　　Whoever　this　sacktime　artist　was；　he　surely　knew　his　sleeping　trade。　I　rifled　the　room　and　fumbled　with　the　clothes　I　found　and　put　them　on　clumsilyyet　he　never　heard　a　sound。　Which　was　probably　the　best　thing　for　him　because　I　was　in　a　skull…fracturing　humor。　The　novelty　of　this　little　affair　had　worn　off　and　all　I　could　think　about　was　the　pain。　There　was　a　hat　too；　so　I　put　this　on　and　checked　out。　I　saw　people　at　a　distance；　but　no　one　was　watching　when　I　pushed　open　an　emergency　exit　and　found　myself　back　on　the　rain…drenched　streets　of　Freiburbad。
　Chapter　12
　
　　　　　That　night　and　the　next　few　days　are　hazy　in　the　memory　for　obvious　reasons。　It　was　a　risk　to　go　back　to　my　room；　but　a　calculated　one。　The　chances　were　good　that　Angelina　didn't　know　of　its　existence　or；　even　if　she　had　found　out；　that　she　wouldn't　have　done　anything　about　it。　I　was　dead　and　she　had　no　further　interest　in　me。　This　appeared　to　be　true；　because　I　wasn't　bothered　after　I　was　in　the　room。　I　had　the　management　send　up　some　food　and　at　least　two　bottles　of　liquor　a　day　so　it　would　look　like　I　was　on　an　extended　and　solitary　bender。　The　rotgut　went　down　the　drain　and　I　picked　a　bit　at　the　food　while　my　body　slowly　recovered。　I　kept　my　aching　flesh　drenched　in　antibiotics　and　loaded　with　painkillers；　and　counted　myself　lucky。
　　　　　On　the　third　morning　I　felt　weak　but　almost　human。　My　arm　in　the　cast　throbbed　when　I　moved　it；　the　black　and　blue　marks　on　my　chest　were　turning　gorgeous　shades　of　violet　and　gold；　but　my　headache　was　almost　gone。　It　was　time　to　plan　for　the　future。　I　sipped　some　of　the　liquor　I　had　been　using　to　flush　out　the　plumbing　and　called　down　for　the　newspapers　of　the　past　three　days。　The　ancient　delivery　tube　wheezed　and　disgorged　them　onto　the　table。　Going　through　them　carefully；　I　was　pleased　to　discover　that　my　plan　had　worked　much　better　than　should　have　been　expected。
　　　　　The　day　after　my　murder　there　had　been　items　in　every　paper　about　it；　grubbed　from　the　hospital　records　by　the　slothful　newshounds　who　hadn't　even　bothered　to　glance　at　the　corpse。　That　was　all。　Nothing　later　about　Big　Hospital　Scandal　in　Missing　Corpse　or　Suit　Brought　Because　That's　Not　Uncle　Frim　In　The　Coffin。　If　my　jiggery…pokery　in　the　frozen　meat　locker　had　been　uncovered；　it　was　being　kept　a　hospital　family　secret　and　heads　were　rolling　in　private。
　　　　　Angelina；　my　sharpshooting　sweetheart；　must　then　think　of　me　as　securely　dead；　a　victim　of　her　own　murderous　trigger　finger。　Nothing　could　be　better。　As　soon　as　I　was　able　to　I　would　be　getting　back　on　her　trail　again；　the　job　of　tracking　her　made　immensely　simpler　by　her　believing　me　to　be　a　whisp　of　greasy　smoke　in　the　local　crematorium。　There　was　plenty　of　time　now　to　plan　this　thing　and　plan　it　right。　No　more　funny　business　about　who　was　hunting　whom。　I　was　going　to　get　as　much　pleasure　out　of　arresting　Angelina　as　she　had　derived　from　blasting　away　at　me　with　her　portable　artillery。
　　　　　It　was　a　humiliating　but　true　fact　that　she　had　outmaneuvered　me　all　the　way　down　the　line。　She　had　stolen　the　battleship　from　under　my　nose；　torn　a　wide　swath　through　galactic　shipping；　then　escaped　neatly　right　under　my　gun。　What　made　the　situation　most　embarrassing　was　that　she　had　set　a　trap　for　mewhen　I　thought　I　was　hunting　her。　Hindsight　is　a　great　revealer　of　obviousities　and　this　one　was　painfully　clear　now。　While　escaping　from　the　captured　battleship　she　had　not　been　hysterical　in　the　slightest。　That　role　had　been　feigned。　She　had　been　studying　me；　every　bit　of　my　face　that　could　be　seen；　every　intonation　of　my　voice。　Hatred　had　seared　my　picture　in　her　memory；　and　while　escaping　she　must　have　considered　constantly　how　I　would　be　thinking　when　I　followed　her。　At　the　safest　and　least　obvious　spot　in　her　flight　she　had　stoppedand　waited。　Knowing　I　would　e　and　knowing　that　she　would　be　more　prepared　for　the　encounter　than　I　was。　This　was　all　past　history。　Now　it　was　my　turn　to　deal　the　cards。
　　　　　All　kinds　of　schemes　and　plans　trotted　through　my　head　to　be　weighed　and　sampled。　Top　prioritybefore　anything　else　was　attemptedwould　be　a　plete　physical　change　for　me。　This　would　be　necessary　if　I　wanted　to　catch　up　with　Angelina。　It　was　also　required　if　I　were　to　stay　out　of　the　long　reach　of　the　Corps。　The　fact　had　not　been　mentioned　during　my　training；　but　I　was　fairly　sure　the　only　way　one　left　the　Special　Corps　was　feet　first。　Though　I　was　physically　down　and　out　there　was　nothing　wrong　with　the　old　think　box　and　I　put　it　to　use。　Facts　were　needed；　and　I　gave　a　small　endowment　to　the　city　library　in　the　form　of　rental　fees。　Fortunately　there　were　filmcopies　of　all　the　local　newspapers　available；　going　back　for　years。　I　made　the　acquaintance　of　an　extremely　yellowish　journal　endearingly　called　〃HOT　NEWS！！〃　Hot　News！！　aimed　at　a　popular　readershipwith　a　vocabulary　I　estimated　at　approximately　three　hundred　wordswho　relished　violence　in　its　multiform　aspects。　Most　of　the　time　these　were　just　copter　accidents　and　such；　with　full　color　photos　of　course。　But　very　often　there　were　juicy　muggings；　sluggings　and　such　which　proved　the　quieting　hand　of　galactic　civilization　still　hadn't　throttled　Freibur　pletely。　In　among　these　exaggerated　tales　of　violence　lay　the　murky　crime　I　was　searching　for。
　　　　　Mankind　has　always　been　capricious　in　its　lawmaking；　inventing　such　intriguingly　different　terms　as　manslaughter；　justified　homicide　and　such；　as　if　dead　wasn't　dead。　Though　fashions　in　both　crime　and　sentencing　e　and　go；　there　is　one　crime　that　will　always　bring　universal　detestation。　That　is　the　crime　of　being　a　bungling　doctor。　I　have　heard　tell　that　certain　savage　tribes　used　to　slaughter　the　physician　if　his　patient　died；　a　system　that　is　not　without　merit。　This　single…minded　loathing　of　the　butchering　quack　is　understandable。　When　ill；　we　deliver　ourselves　pletely　into　the　doctor's　hands。　We　give　a　plete　stranger　the　opportunity　to　toy　with　that　which　we　value　most。　If　this　trust　is　violated　there　is　naturally　a　hotness　of　temper　among　the　witnesses　or　survivors。
　　　　　Ordinary…citizen　Vulff　Siftemitz　had　formerly　been　the　Highly　Esteemed　Doctor　Siftemitz。　Hot　News！　explained　in　overly　lavish　detail　how　he　had　mixed　the　life　of　Playboy　and　Surgeon　until　finally　the　knife　in　his　twitching　fingers　had　cut　that　instead　of　this　and　the　life　of　a　prominent　politician　had　been　shortened　by　a　number　of　no　doubt　profitable　years。　We　must　give　Vulff　credit　for　the　fact　that　he　had　made　an　attempt　to　sober　up　before　going　to　work；　so　that　it　was　D。T。's　not　drunkenness　that　caused　the　fatal　twitch。　His　license　was　removed　and　he　must　have　been　fined　most　of　his　savings　since　there　were　later　references　to　his　having　been　involved　in　more　sordid　medical　affairs。　Life　had　treated　Vulff　hard　and　dirty；　he　was　just　the　man　I　was　looking　for。　On　my　first　rubber…legged　trip　out　of　my　room　I　took　the　liberty　of　paying　him　a　professional　call。
　　　　　To　a　person　of　my　abilities　tracking　down　a　pseudolegal　stranger　in　a　foreign　city　on　a　far　planet　presents　no　problems。　Just　a　matter　of　technique　an