Stainless Steel Rat 11: The Stainless Steel Rat Returns by Harry Harrison

blew upon them. “Complete with a new and powerful bureaucratic establishment with galaxy-wide authority.”
    “And the name of this newly created omnipotent organization?”
    I drew myself up, took a brace and proudly said—
    “The Intergalactic Department of Religious Control.”
    “You’re serious?”
    “Never more so. In my position of authority as First Galactic Inspector I will investigate a reported violation of the Galactic Religious Code.”
    “And what may I ask is that?”
    “I don’t know yet, but it’s going to be a humdinger. But—first things first. We must have a design for my uniform for you to take to your ladies’ sewing circle.”
    She frowned at the tiny watch set under her pinky fingernail. “Will you be long?”
    “Hard to tell. Why don’t you join your sisterhood and find out more about their sewing skills. I’ll join you as soon as I have completed the design.”
    I was humming with creative ardor as I signed onto the terminal and brought up a surfeit of splendor. My, how mankind does love its military glory!
    Uniforms of every color and gaudy display raced across the screen. When I had picked out the most splendid and eye-dazzling, I saved them in a file of martial magnificence. A quick search through the computer index found a design program that let me combine elements of the most stunning. When it was complete I hit print and a large and glaringly colorful picture emerged. I held it up at arm’s length and marveled.
    “Truly impressive, Jim. The Vengefulers can but shiver before its majesty!”
    First off it was black, a deep jet as dark as interstellar space. Set against this were many glistening and glowing features. Large epaulettes on the shoulders, heavy with gilt bullion.Rows of gold buttons, looped braid, glistening cuffs, exotic awards and medals heavy on the chest. To design these medals I rooted through the history of religion and made copies of all the symbols of many creeds. There were crossed swords next to a crescent moon. Then five joined stars next to a five-pointed star, a burning sun inside a black coffin—next to a plain cross. Oh, the wonders that man doth create!
    The only quiet note in this glorious uniform was a white clerical collar. I held the printout at arm’s length and nodded with appreciation.
    “And you are just the man to wear it, Jim.” I was never one for false modesty.
    Now, construction. The sewing circle would do their part. What about the medals? After a little thought I called Stramm.
    “What’s up, Boss?” his screened image said.
    “Do you have a laser lathe in your engine room?”
    “Of course. Need it to machine spare parts.”
    “Then fire it up. I’ll be right down with a little job for you.”
    When I handed him the printout I swear his eyes bulged. Whether with horror or appreciation it was hard to tell.
    “What in . . . ?”
    “Don’t ask! All will be revealed eventually. What I need are 3-D replicas of all the fruit salad on the chest. Can do?”
    “Of course. I’ll scan them, then laser-form them in brass. There will be no problem filling in the details in colored ceramic.”
    “Then go to it—while I see about the uniform.”
    The lower ramp was down and the porcuswine were already grunting and rooting in the woods under the watchful eyes of the swineherds. I waved back to their shouted greetingsand hurried on, not wanting any swineyard chat. Well away from them I used my phone to ring through to Angelina; who sent one of her coworkers to find me. A shy young girl soon joined me, blushing when she curtsied, then hurried away towards one of the bigger buildings. Following her lead I entered a good-sized room where a score of ladies were industrially plying their needles. Angelina, who thought little of home economics, was serving cups of tea.
    “Is this the masterpiece?” she asked. Then stepped back stricken with awe—or horror—when I proudly displayed it.
    “Well,” she said, “it certainly is