“Too long, too slow. The levtrain has a most efficient freight service.” He thought about this a bit, then dug into his bag and took out a plastic cylinder.

“What is it?”

“Playtexx. Completely sealed so it can’t be detected.”

He passed it over and I took it with some hesitation. It was the most concentrated and most powerful explosive known. I knew that it existed but I had never used it. Since I don’t usually go around blowing up things.

“How stable is it?” I asked.

“As inert as clay. Shoot it, light it, jump on it-and nothing will happen. This is the only thing that will set it off.” He passed over a timer disc with a sharp skewer projecting from it. “Set the timer. Push the spike through the plastic container. Then get out of there. Now-put everything into this bag, along with some clothes. You leave at once. I’ll expect a report by tomorrow in the very latest.”

I opened my mouth to protest. Shut it again when I realized the futility. A holiday in friendly Swartzlegen seemed to be very much in order. Chaise drove me to the station himself. Gave me anther bundle of money and a telephone. And issued more orders to which I nodded, but didn’t listen. I knew what had to be done. Something dangerous, possibly deadly, in the sunny south.

It started to rain as soon as the train reached the southern plain. The landscape became darker and more dismal, black wet rock piled on more black wet rock, with black clouds scudding across the dismal landscape. Quite depressing-but only to me. Everyone else on the train seemed to be working hard at getting drunk. The men at least. Not the women. There were very few of them, even fewer children. There was a bar at the end of every car, and they were doing very good business indeed. Not much of a family outing. Just a way for the lads to let off steam and spend what credits they had before returning to the joys of industry.

A few hour later we reached the worker’s paradise.

The end of Swartzlegen Station opened right onto the sea. An elevated promenade ran along the seafront, stretching out to the horizon in both directions. I leaned on the railing in the driving rain and watched the waves rush high up on the blackpebbled beach. When the waves ran back again they carried some of the stones along with them, grating and grumbling like underwater thunder. There was a good bit of that in the sky too. Sudden flares of lightning followed by earsplitting claps of thunder.

Lightning flared again out to sea. Giving me a quick glimpse of pale land against the black clouds. And the forms of low, clustered buildings. Sikuzote Island and the atomic generator. I turned my back to the ocean and scanned the row of buildings that lined the other side of the promenade. Amusement arcades, bars, restaurants, bars, squalid-looking hotels, bars, electronics, bars, souvenirs, bars, telephones, bars. I got the message. I had not drunk anything on the train. I would head for the nearest bar and get a beer. But not before I contacted Bolivar.

The automated electronic shop was having a sale on detectors. I pushed in enough money for one. Turned it on and swept it over my body. It bleeped like an electronic pinball machine. Chaise sure didn’t trust me. I dug out the coins, buttons, discseven a nail in my new shoes. And of course the new phone he had given me. I was getting very tired of this constant attention. I went and threw the whole lot into the ocean before buying a new phone. I put this into my bag and headed for the adjacent bar. Where I bought a beer and found an empty booth. Easy enough to do since the place was deserted. Took out the phone and tapped the buttons. Bolivar answered on the third ring.

“Good to hear from you. No luck yet on finding Kaia’s place in Sunkist-by-the-Sea, but James is beavering away at it. How are you doing? ”

“Traveling on a new assignment.” I told him about the planned sabotage and my starring role.

“Sounds dangerous. Could you use a little help?”

“Not really-but thanks for offering. If I can’t do it alone it probably can’t be done. What you can do is take this phone number and call me if there are any developments.”

“Got you. Stay safe. “

Safe. I appreciated the thought but doubted very much of it could be done. I turned the phone off. Changed it from ring to vibrate. Drank the rest of the beer, picked up my bag and went to get more.

“Pretty rainy today,” I said to the head barman. He was polishing a glass and keeping a keen eye on his staff of robot bartenders.

“It’s always rainy today.” A real cheery soul.

“Not too full.’

“Not this time of day. The rain drives them in after dark.”

“I hear that there’s a tour of the electricity works.”

“Volt City. Boring stuff. But at least it’s dry.” He put down the well-burnished glass, took up another one. Pointed his thumb. “Down there. Next to the pier. Tours every half an hour all day. By ferry.”

“Sounds like a winner,” I said with little enthusiasm.

“Or stay here and drink. Your choice.”

“Can I leave my bag here?”

“Ten credits,” he said. I took the telephone out of the bag before I passed it over. He stowed it behind the bar. “We never close.”

Cheered on by this hearty interplay I went out into the rain again. Was it stopping? Hard to say with the wind blowing water in all directions.

Tied up by the pier, bobbing ominously, the small ferry Miss Kilowatt did not actually inspire confidence. At least the rain was letting up, though not the wind.

“Welcome aboard Miss Kilowatt for your grand electrical tour,” a very bored girl in an electric blue uniform said. She handed me a booklet. “We cast off in ten minutes and thus will begin the tour of your lifetime.” Her nasal and uninflected tone made it sound like the end of a lifetime. I went to the bow and sat down on a wet bench. I was soaked through already and this would make no difference. I leafed through the booklet, then sat on it. I was still wet. A little while later there was a rumble in Miss Kilowatt’s bowels and she moved slowly away from the pier.

As the rain let up I could make out our destination more clearly. A low island with the waves breaking into white foam on its rocky shore. A long cluster of white buildings attached to a larger and more formidable building. A very tall chimney rose up from this, thin smoke blowing inland from its top. No doubt spreading atomic debris over the town. From the farthest end of the buildings thick black wires emerged and stretched out to a massive tower. Swung long catenary loops across the water to another tower on the mainland. Marched away on more towers, vanishing inland, transporting all those amperes and joules to the industry of Fetorrscoria. Inspiring.

The passage was rough and blissfully short. I was happy to join the small crowd at the exit. Followed them down the pier towards the building complex. A wide entrance flashed a dazzling array of lights and emitted scratchy music.

“Welcome.” The canned voice said. “Welcome to your grand electrical tour. Your guide is waiting inside to tell you just how AtomGen is making your world a finer place to live in.”

We had to go single file through the narrow entrance. Past a uniformed guard with a counter in his hand, clicking it for every visitor. No, not every one. A mother and the little girl with her did not merit a click. Just the male visitors, I noticed idly. I paid more attention when I passed him. He clicked and looked at the readout.

“Number fifty,” he said aloud, and smiled. “This is your lucky day and you have won a valuable prize worth two hundred credits. Please follow me to that room over there where it is waiting for you.”

He handed me a golden disk with a lightning bolt inscribed on it. Pointed to the door with the same symbol.

I did not like being singled out. But did not dare protest. I meekly took the disk and followed him through the door. It locked behind us with an all too solid sound.