Read Stainless Steel Rat 11: The Stainless Steel Rat Returns for Free Online

announcement board. See the nice bar? Join me in a drink while we wait?”
    “Are you sure that we can afford it?”
    Yes, well, that was a consideration. The answer was a firm yes. It would be medicinal. I slipped away and stumbled over to the alcoholic retreat, rapped a coin to get the barbot’s attention, drank deep of the libation he poured.
    To say that my wife was not charmed by my financial report is like saying that an earthquake is a slight tremble in the ground. Oh, good son James, bearer of glad news—and hopefully mounds of mazuma!—please arrive soon. I emptied my glass and saw over its lowered rim that the first passengerswere emerging from customs, their roboluggage trundling behind them.
    And leading them—countenance beaming—was our son! Mother and son embraced while I looked on with paternal pleasure. I got a hug too; then James stepped back and brought forward a man who had been waiting patiently behind him.
    “This is Kirpal Singh—I told you about him in my interstellargram.”
    We shook hands. He had dark skin, white teeth and his head wrapped in green cloth. A bandage? All would be revealed.
    “Kirpal came with me because, you will be happy to hear, he is a spaceship broker.”
    “Welcome . . . doubly welcome!” I enthused.
    “And does Mr. Singh have a firm credit line to cover any financial transactions?” Say what you will, my Angelina is not an easy sell.
    “I am but a humble broker, dear Mrs. diGriz. Your son is the money bags in any transaction.”
    James held up the dark briefcase that was chained to his wrist. “Crammed with credits and ready to go!”
    “Then all be well!” She exclaimed in an abrupt change of mood. “We look to you Kirpal for salvation.”
    “I am deadly in financial dealings, Angelina! We Sikhs are a warrior race.”
    “That explains the turban. I assume that you have your dagger and iron bangle?”
    “I do, wise lady.” He lifted his cuff a bit; metal gleamed. Then tapped his ankle. “You are indeed a student of ancient religions and customs.”
    My Angelina never ceases to amaze me.
    “We’ll have celebratory bottle of champers while you bring me up to speed,” James said leading the way to the bar. He whistled and their wheeled cases trundled after us.
    We clinked glasses and drank. Angelina, ever the pragmatist, outlined our problem while I downed a second glass of morale-raiser. When she was through she sipped daintily from her glass while we all applauded.
    “What a worthy cause for a most charitable lady!” Kirpal cried aloud. “Count upon my expert help to save these rural refugees!”
    “Which leaves us with only one problem—” she said, glancing at me. I nodded for her to continue, pouring another glass; she was doing fine. “Do we have the financial well-to-do to carry this off?”
    “Alas, no,” James said, then held her hand as her brow darkened. “But I am calling in a number of long-term investments that I made for you some years ago. However, even by warpdrive interstellargram this will take a day or two. In the meantime a million credits have been deposited in your account for day-to-day expenses.”
    “All’s well that ends well,” I said, and put my glass down. Enough sauce, Jim, this is a time for level heads. “To the spaceport and a showdown with Captain Rifuti.”
    We grabbed a cab—I wasn’t using Moolaplenty Motors again if I could help it. We made a brief hotel stop on the way—where a checkinbot was waiting for us at the entrance to the Spaceman’s Paradise. James signed in and passed over their luggage. We drove on and when we reached the
Rose of Rifuti
’s spacelock we were pleased to discover that a small welcoming committee was there to greet us.
    “She was pinein’ for you, Miz Angelina,” Elmo said in his best cap-twisting toe-dragging servile mode. His voice was all but drowned out by Pinky’s joyous squealing. She changed to a happy snurgle when Angelina knelt and gave her a good under-quill