Which unhappily it would never reach.

I rolled aside as the glowing disk of metal dropped to the ground. Just to make sure I would not be disturbed I threw some more sleepgas charges up into the van. I took off the gas mask with its dark lenses, put filter plugs in my nostrils before I climbed in myself. Spun about at the strange grating sound. Saw in the light of my torch a snoring policeman. Asleep and uninjured as were the other two.

I used my diamond saw to cut off the fused lock on the rear door. Kicked it open to let in fresh air and birdsong. Dragged over the first of the money-filled lockboxes and threw it onto the ground outside.

This was the hard part and it had worked perfectly. But had Igor done his far more straightforward job correctly? It was really very simple. All he had to do was drive the dummy van down through the hills and into the village beyond. But not to the bank, oh dear no.

To the loading bay of the market in the mall nearby. Empty of personnel at this time of day. Do it, Igor! Park. Open the door. Press the actuator. Don’t run! It is a twenty-second fuse, you have all the time in the world. Into the mall and stroll out the other side. Into Kaia’s waiting car-

I could almost see the flaring blaze that blotted out the sunshine. Aluminum and iron. Thermite. A timeless recipe for the hottest of flames. Flame that incinerated everything that it touched, melted the metals it could not burn. A fire that ran its incendiary course until nothing of the fake armored van was left behind other than a white-hot ruin. Let them analyze that when it cooled. Nothing could be identified after a flame like that.

I was throwing out the last box when I heard a vehicle brake to a stop on the road. A stranger! No. It had to be Chaise. Because a door slammed and heavy footsteps approached. The engine gunned as the car pulled away.

“Start getting these into the truck,” I told Igor. “This is the final step in the greatest bank heist of all time.”

It was done. Finished. Or was it? Had I made any mistakes? Had I covered all the planned points and details of the robbery? The armored car had been tricked by the holos and had driven off the road. Right. It had braked neatly in place inside the screened enclosure as planned. I had dropped the last screen while they were still braking-so there had been no time for them to radio a warning, had they even thought of doing so. The truck had braked to an emergency stop, then the gauss charge had fried everything electrical. Then the sleepgas mortar shells. Its crew had been rendered unconscious, none of them injured. I had checked that myself. While this was happening the fake van had driven out from under the trees and had taken the real van’s place on the road. Where it would be watched by the never-sleeping eye of the satellite. Then it had driven to that distant mall-where it had burned spectacularly. Igor must have made his way safely to Chaise in the waiting car, because he was here now throwing the money boxes into his truck.

What would the emergency services be doing at this time? Running in circles I hoped. The firemen would be dousing the steaming wreckage. Police investigators would soon be poking rods into the congealed mess. Eyewitness reports might identify it as an armored van. More confusion, more phone calls. Yes, the money van had left the last bank. No, it had not arrived at the next bank. More calls. Satellite images sent for and analyzed. More authorities getting into the act. More time wasted. The entire thing had gone exactly as I had planned. And there . was Igor struggling with the last of the money boxes. It was time to leave.

Leave. The mnemonic triggered my memory and I slapped the pouch hanging from my belt.

Two things. The pillbox opened to my touch as I climbed back into the money van. I put a time-release capsule under the tongue of each of the sleeping guards. They would dissolve in four hours and release the antidote to the sleepgas. I didn’t want anyone dying on me. They would wake up and then, if they had not yet been discovered, they would raise the alarm. I needed only an hour’s time to make my getaway, so we had plenty of leeway. Slipping the guards the capsules had been the first thing that I had to do.

I was not too charmed by the second thing.

I took out the metal image of a rat cut from the finest stainless steel. Clutched it a moment, cursing, then threw it to the floor. Chaise had warned me what would happen if it wasn’t found at the scene of the crime.

I climbed wearily to the ground, climbed even more wearily up into the cab of Igor’s now-yellow truck. He was just sealing the back. “Drive on.” I husked when he joined me. “To the payway and Fetorrscoria. If I should fall asleep you are ordered, under penalty of death, not to wake me.”

I dozed on and off until we reached the payway, then yawned myself back to life and fumbled out the catalytic activator. The mouth of the tunnel through the hills appeared ahead. As soon as we entered it I pressed the switch on the activator.

The long, strong burst of radio energy, at exactly the 46.8meter wavelength, would trip the catalytic molecules in the yellow paint that now made the truck so visible. This would reduce their adhesion factor to zero; the paint would then blow away in a cloud of fine dust. Returning the vehicle to its normal filthy and stained pink. The empty armored van would be found. Satellite pictures of that bit of road would eventually reveal a yellow truck driving away from the scene of the crime. If they managed to track it as far as the tollway it would appear to have vanished in the tunnel. The perfect crime. Hugging this thought to myself I eventually settled down and slept the better for all of this.

And woke just long enough when we pulled into the Fetorrscoria warehouse to put my face in the sink and give it a drink of water. Myself as well. Then to stumble to my cot. I had a slight smile on my lips as sleep overwhelmed me. It really had been a perfect crime.

“The crime of the century, that’s what they are calling it!”

I opened gritty eyes to see the loathsome form of Chaise standing over me, hands filled with printouts from the news channel. He threw them onto my chest. I plucked at them feebly.

The top one was a photo of a meaty official hand holding the metal stainless steel rat. All of the headlines were hysterical.

RAT CRIMINAL STRIKES IN WEALTHY HEARTLAND MILLIONS MISSING!! PANIC IN MONEY MARKETS INSURANCE RATES TO RISE

I bet they would! There would be cold shivers throughout the boardrooms. Not my problem. I scanned through the rest of the news, found an obscure item at the very end.

UNION STRIKE LOCKOUT AT STEEL PLANT

It looked like Gar Goyle was doing his union organizing bit now, when he wasn’t putting on his freak act. Which made me think of Believer, who was still hidden in the act in his role of Megalith Man. Which in turn made me look at my watch. I had to phone him again at noon. I dropped the printouts and, with some effort, managed to climb to my feet. All of this activity had not disturbed Igor, who was still snoring on his bed.

“You look terrible,” Chaise said.

“I feel worse.”

“If you are seen in the street in those filthy sports clothes you will be under suspicion at once.”

“So what do I do?”

“Put this on.” He handed me an anonymous dark-green work suit. “Go out and get some workmen’s clothes. Heavy boots. Then get back here and wait. I will have another assignment for you soon. Give me the card.”

“What?” My head was still fuzzy; no more pep pills for a while.

“The cashcard that you used to buy the van. I don’t want it traced to any purchases here.” He passed over a bundle of bills. “Use cash from now on.”