THE PURITY PLOT
Volume six of The classic Family d’Alembert series
By E.E. ‘Doc’ Smith
With Stephen Goldin
Chapter 1
The Glasseye Gang
The planet Glasseye was named for its appearance from space. Tuan Ho, the
scoutship pilot who discovered it, remembered his initial impression in an interview with
Imperial Newsworks Reelzine: “I came out of subspace and there it was, staring straight
at me=a large blue green ball with that one dark continent in the center. It looked for all
the universe like a glass eye being displayed on a piece of black velvet, with the stars
as a background to lend effect to the scene.”
Since that discovery in 2374, the planet had been well explored and colonized, and its
name took on an extra significance. The one major continent was found to contain rich
deposits of a fine silicate mineral called fargerite, after its discoverer-that occurred
nowhere else in the galaxy; furthermore, this silicate produced some of the finest glass
ever made. “Glasseye glass” became renowned throughout the Empire, and no one
with any pretensions to culture would feel his collection of objets d’art complete without
several pieces. Producing, blowing, and exporting the glass became the planet’s
leading industries, and the entire world thrived, basking in the glow of its reputation. So
abundant was the fargerite that the Glasseyers even used it as a construction material
for building their cities. When combined and fired in the proper way, it became a
substance stronger than steel, with the added advantage that it was more easily
recyclable. If one tired of it in one form, one could melt it down and reshape it into
something else with a minimum of trouble.
Glasseye cities therefore looked like fairy towers of crystalline perfection. Glass needles
rose into the sky, their walls refracting the sunlight into a million rainbow patterns. Glass
latticeworks connected the city in a transportation system of small, high-speed shuttles
that whisked people wherever they chose to go in a matter of minutes. The cities
presented an ever-changing face, as old portions were constantly being melted down
and replaced with newer, more modern-looking sections. Transience became ingrained
into the planetary character of the Glasseyers themselves; there was a joke common
throughout the Empire about a starving Glasseyer who was given a bowl of apples,
pears, and grapes, but died before he ate any-he was not quite satisfied with the
arrangement of the fruit in the bowl!
Visitors flocked to Glasseye from all over the galaxy to observe the breathtaking beauty
of Glasseyer cities. Tourism was Glasseye’s second largest industry; the planet
represented an almost perfect visual paradise. But even paradise has its problems.
The group of masked figures had little trouble breaking into the new Imperial Trade
Tower in Southbeach City. This tower, the latest in a series of new buildings to house
the local arm of the imperial administration, was not scheduled to open officially for
another week, during which final checks of the wiring and plumbing were completed.
There were only two guards stationed at the building’s base, and they hadn’t been
expecting any trouble. The party of invaders blasted them in cold blood, then continued
with their mission.
The leader checked the elevator tube and found it in workable condition. He and his
friends got in and rose quickly to the upper stories. The Imperial Trade Tower had been
designed like an enormous tulip about to blossom, with the bulb beginning a full thirty
stories above ground level. The intruders got off at the thirty-fourth floor and spread out.
Each of the eight team members planted his explosive charge in one of the offices
around the floor’s perimeter, then returned to the central shaft. They went up the tube
four more floors. So far, everything had gone according to their plans, but now they ran
into something they had not counted on: people.
As it happened, this brand-new building, a showcase of Glasseyer architecture and
design, had attracted the interest of Lord Hok Fu-Choy, nephew of Grand Duke TChen
who owned Sector Seventeen in which Glasseye was located. Lord Hok had requested
a personal inspection while he was here on Glasseye, and Baron William of
Southbeach was most happy to consent. During the day though, the building was still
swarming with construction workers, and it would be hard for Lord Hok to observe it in
its proper form. Also, the Baron promised, Lord Hok would get a splendid nighttime view
of the panorama of Southbeach City if he came up here after hours. Lord Hok agreed to
a nighttime tour.
Neither Baron William nor his guest had expected to encounter any trouble in an
uncompleted building during an unannounced visit. Each man only had one
escort-bodyguard with him-wholly inadequate, it turned out, for the situation they found
themselves facing.
It would have been hard to say which side was more surprised at seeing the other
there, but the invaders who’d been prepared for anything that might happen-recovered
first. Being well armed, they drew their guns to kill the strangers, and they would have,
but the leader recognized the Baron and Lord Hok. Making a snap decision, he ordered
his followers to take them alive.
The escorts fought well, and managed to burn down two of their attackers, but they
were hopelessly outnumbered. In the end, they lay dead on the floor while the two
noblemen looked on, helpless. The saboteurs took their prisoners and set the
remainder of their explosive charges. Then, herding their captives into the elevator
tubes, they descended once more to the ground level and to the shuttle prepared for
their escape.
They pushed Lord Hok into the craft first. The young nobleman resented this brusque
treatment and, despite the guns that were trained on him, he began a brief struggle. His
attempt did not last long, as one of his captors hit him soundly across the face with the
butt of a blaster, but the minor scuffle did give Baron William a chance to break free of
the men who were holding him. Before any of the invaders knew quite what had
happened, the Baron was running down the transit tube into the darkness. A couple of
the men started after him, but they were called back by their leader. Their time was
running out; they dared not waste any by chasing the fleeing man. They still had one
captive after all, and a very important one at that. Headquarters would approve highly of
what they’d done; there was no need to endanger themselves further.
The shuttle with the six surviving invaders and their hostage sped away from the
Imperial Trade Tower at top speed. Baron William arrived back at the scene ten
minutes later, accompanied by a squad of police, but by that time it was too late. Within
another five minutes, the “bulb” of the tower blew apart, scattering shards of glass for
kilometers in all directions.
The Head of the Service of the Empire was greatly disturbed by this latest incident of
anti-imperialist terrorism. His organization was charged with the awesome task of
maintaining the security of an empire that was spread out over more than thirteen
hundred worlds. And that job, never an easy one under the best of circumstances, had
only been getting harder of late.
Maybe I’m starting to feel my age, he thought, but the last two years have really been
downhill.
Not that Zander von Wilmenhorst was that old; at just under fifty he was only now
reaching the absolute prime of his mental capacities. But the responsibility of his
position would age anyone quickly. And the more dedicated he became, the more
seriously he took his duties, which only made him feel older.
He had thought, many months ago, that the breakup of Banion’s well-organized plot
against the Empire would be the peak of his career, that everything following it would be
an anticlimax. To some extent that was true, but it was not the way he had expected.
Little things kept popping up, almost trivial in and of themselves, but they had been
taking unexpectedly large bites of the Service’s time and energy. He had fought off the
wolf named Banion-mostly through the talents of his two most capable agents-but now
he found the Empire plagued by mosquitoes. And he could not help but recall that it
was mosquitoes that carried the germs of malaria.
Acts of terrorism were on the increase. The seeds of discontent were sprouting on
planets in every sector of the Empire, with a violence which was unexpectedly strong
considering the mild and peaceful reign of Emperor Stanley Ten. Everywhere, groups of
malcontents were springing up, chanting slogans for the abolition of the Empire and the
destruction of the nobility. For the most part, the groups were led by honest, sincere
people who believed in autonomy for their own planets without regard for the larger
picture of interstellar relations.
Von Wilmenhorst could not fault the people for their sincere, if misguided, patriotism;