As I approached the front door of The First Bank of Bit 0' Heaven, it sensed my presence and swung open with an automatic welcome. I stepped briskly through-and stopped. But I was just far enough inside so that the door was unable to close behind me. While it was sliding shut I took the arc pen from my bag-then spun about just as it had closed completely. I had stopwatched its mechanical reflex time on other trips to the bank, so I knew that I had just 1. 67 seconds to do the necessary. Time enough.
The are buzzed and flared and welded the door securely to its frame. After this all the door could do was buzz helplessly, immobile, until something in the mechanism shorted out and it produced some crackling sparks, then died.
"Destruction of bank property is a crime. You are under arrest." As it was speaking, the robot bank guard reached out its large padded hands to seize and hold me until the police arrived.
"Not this time, you jangling junkpile," I snarled, and pushed it in the chest with the porcuswme prod. The two metal points produced 300 volts and plenty ofamps. Enough to draw the attention of a one ton porcuswine. Enough to short the robot completely. Smoke spurted from all its joints and it hit the floor with a very satisfactory crash.
Behind me. For I had already leapt forward, shouldering aside the old lady who stood at the teller's window. I pulled the large handgun from my bag and pointed it at the teller and growled out my command.
"Your money or your life, sister. Fill this bag with bucks." Very impressive, though my voice did break a bit so the last words came out in a squeak. The teller smiled at this and tried to brazen it out.
"Go home, sonny. This is not..." I pulled the trigger and the . 75 recoilless boomed next to her ear; the cloud of smoke blinded her. She wasn't hit but she might just as well have been. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she slid slowly from sight behind the till.
You don't foil Jimmy diGriz that easily! With a single bound I was over the counte+ and waving the gun at the rest of the wide-eyed employees.
"Step back-all of you! Quick! I want no little pinkies pressing the silent alarm buttons. That's it. You, butterball-" I waved over the fat teller who had always ignored me in the past. He was all attention now. "Fill this bag with bucks, large denominations, and do it now." He did it, fumbling and sweating yet working as fast as he could. The customers and staff all stood around in odd poses, apparently paralyzed with fear. The door to the managers office stayed closed, which meant that he probably wasn't there. Chubby had the bag filled with bills and was holding it out to me. The police had not appeared. There was a good chance I was getting away with it.
I muttered what I hoped was a foul curse under my breath and pointed to one of the sacks that were filled with rolls of coins.
"Dump out the change and fill that too," I ordered, sneering and growling at the same time.
He obeyed with alacrity and soon had this bag stuffed filll as well. And still no sign of the police. Could it be that not one of the moronic money employees had pressed the silent alarm button? It could be. Drastic measures would have to be taken.
I reached out and grabbed up another bag of coins. "Fill this one as well," I ordered, slinging it across to him.
As I did this I managed to get the alarm button with my elbow. There are some days when you have to do everything for yourself.
This had the desired effect. By the time the third bag was fall, and I was staggering towards the door with my loot, the police began to appear. One groundcar managed to crash into another (police emergencies are pretty rare around these parts), but eventually they sorted themselves out and lined up outside, guns ready.
"Don't shoot," I squeaked. With real fear, because most of them didn't look too bright. They couldn't hear me through the windows but they could see me. "It's a dummy," I called out. "Seel" I put the muzzle of the gun to the side of my head and pulled the trigger. There was a satisfactory puff of smoke from the smoke generator and the sound effect of the shot was enough to make my ears ring. I dropped behind the counter, away from their horrified gaze. At least there would be no shooting now. I waited patiently while they shouted and cursed and finally broke down the door.
Now, you might find all of this puzzling-if so I do not blame you. It is one thing to hold up abank, another thing still to do it in such a manner that you are sure to be caught. Why, you might ask, why be so foolish?
I'll be happy to tell you. To understand my motives you have to understand what life is like on this planet-what my life has been like. Let me explain.
