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

to my feet, rocking on my heels, nostrils flaring, resisting the urge to squeal swinishly: the porcuswine drench was still in my system.
    “To the bank!” I shouted. “All will be saved.”
    They shouted mightily and their cheers only died away when the intercom speaker on the bulkhead rustled to life.
    “Now hear this. I have an interstellar message for Sire James diGriz. This is the communication’s officer. A message . . .”
    “To the bank—by way of the communications office!”
    The officer was waiting when I threw open the door, holding a yellow slip of paper in the air. I grabbed and read . . .
     
ARRIVING TOMORROW AM YOUR TIME SPACER KRANKENHAUS—JAMES
     
    Clear enough; help was on the way.
    “I got some other news for you,” the operator said. I raised querying eyebrows. “I’m the only crewman left on this rust-bucket. I don’t know what you said to them, but they have all deserted.”
    “And you?”
    “Unless you got more messages to send, my bag is packed and I’m outta here as well.”
    “Good-bye. Don’t slam the airlock behind you when you go.”
    I put the whole sordid mess behind me for the moment. In the fullness of time I would track the weaseling Rifuti who . . .
    “Later, Jim, much later,” I cozened myself. “Mazuma first.” I headed for the waiting car.
    While my gilded chariot whisked me to the bank I called Angelina with the news; her happy laughter at our son’s imminent arrival was indeed cheering. I disconnected the call as my golden transport pulled over to the curb. Next to a large refuse bin.
    “This is not the bank,” I said.
    “A million apologies, Sire James,” the chauffeurbot said. “But your payment has just ran out.”
    “Then tap my account for more.”
    “Assuredly . . .
krrkkk
. . . There has been a banking error. We cannot access further payment.” The robot’s voice now had a distinct chill to it. “However, you may deposit cash.”
    An empty drawer popped out of the armrest.
    “Well, it just so happens—ha-ha—that I left my wallet home . . .”
    The drawer closed and the car door opened. The voice grated, coldly.
    “Moolaplenty Motors is ready to serve you anytime . . . you have the cash.”
    The air conditioner sent out an icy blast that was as chillas my soul. I exited, the door slammed shut, I walked slowly to the bank.
    By the time I arrived at the First Bank of Moolaplenty I had a spring in my step and determination in the set of my jaw. You can’t keep a good Rat down!
    “Welcome, dear customer, welcome!” the doorbot crooned as he threw the entrance wide: my spirits rose.
    “Welcome!”
all the tellers sang.
    “Welcome to our dearest client—
    “You but speak and we obey.
    “With your money on deposit
    “You bring such happiness to our day!”
    I shook my hands over my head at this friendly display. Rotten poetry—but I’m sure the sentiment was real.
    It had better be. After the last galactic bank crash—which left many star systems in dire poverty—a wave of anger swept through the galaxy.
“Never again!”
they swore.
“This is the end of financial failure!”
    And it was.
    Terrifying words such as “subprime loans,” “debenture bonds,” “collateralized debt obligations,” “credit default swaps,” “derivatives” were now gone from the language and could only be found in ancient dictionaries. Banks were firmly watched and regulated by steely-eyed accountants. Money was deposited and earned interest. Loans and mortgages were cheerfully made—the banks profiting with the 1 percent spread. And—this was so revolutionary that the International Union of Financial Executives could not believe it—these instructions meant that they could only loan money that they
had in the bank
!
    Stout bankers wept—there were rumors of suicides. Butthe law was the law. Peace and fiduciary responsibility was the rule now.
    Laughing employees ushered me through the manager’s door. This functionary stood