quadrangle between the planets Egon, Bromberg, Hsoli and Kuragana. All four planets
were prosperous, all had thriving illegal gambling operations because gambling had been
officially forbidden there-and all four lay within the most heavily infested area of pirate
activity in this sector of the Galaxy.
Pias visited all four of the planets in turn, soliciting business in an almost casual way. On
each world, he would first spend a couple of days locating the casinos where the best
action could be found. He would then spend another few days observing who the most
important gamblers were. He made friends with dealers, croupiers and “hostesses,”
pumping them most discreetly to learn the latest scuttlebutt. His trained eye was sizing
up everyone in the house, and it seldom took him more than an hour to ascertain which
people would be of interest to him and which could be ignored.
Once he’d chosen his quarries, his plan of attack was carefully calculated. A few select
words about the wonders of the new gambling ship; a hint that the maiden voyage might
already be filled up; and a card he would hesitantly slip to an interested listener, a card
bearing only a subcom number to be called for a “ticket to Paradise.” Pias refused to
answer any questions about the ship in person, giving his prospective clients the
impression he had already let out too much as it was. If they wanted to know more, he
told them, they would have to call the number and set up a screening appointment. Then
he moved on-usually without even giving his name.
By the time Pias had made the rounds of all four planets and returned to Egon, where
work on the Paradise was being completed, the clamor for tickets was surprising even to
him. Yvette was going slightly crazy trying to process all the applications by herself while
doing her own job as well; Pias promptly stepped in and relieved her of this
responsibility.
People he had talked to were unable to resist telling their friends about this unique
excursion, and the friends, in turn, had told even more people. Applications were even
coming in from outside the four planets where Pias had done his recruiting. As a result he
could afford to be quite selective, often rejecting people on seemingly trivial grounds.
With each rejection he sadistically sent along a full-color trioptic brochure showing all the
wonders the Paradise had to offer-and with each rejection, the demand seemed to
double.
Looking up from a stack of applications one evening, Pias told his wife, “You know, if the
pirates don’t hit us on the first couple of trips, we may actually make a profit on this
whole deal. Even including all meals in the package, we’ve got a high enough basic fee;
with the house percentages of the take, plus our share of the money on the special
services, we could end up doing quite well for ourselves.”
“Mon Dieu, I think you’re starting to like this.”
“Just thinking about job security. We’ve got to catch Lady A and her crew sometime-and
if there aren’t any more plots, SOTE may put us out to pasture. I’m too old to learn brain
surgery-I have to have something to fall back on.”
As Yvette had promised, she was responsible for obtaining the crew-a crew that would
never be overrun by pirates, no matter how well armed the outlaws were, no matter how
badly they outnumbered the ship’s complement. Fortunately, this was the easiest part of
the entire operation. Yvette merely called for members of her family.
The Family d’Alembert was unique in human history. Throughout the Empire the family
was renowned as the principal performers in the Circus of the Galaxy-aerialists, ac-
robats, jugglers, animal tamers, magicians, clowns, wrestlers … the whole gamut of
thrilling entertainment. The d’Alembert clan was synonymous with the Circus-more than a
thousand of them, constantly on _tour throughout the inhabited planets, playing to packed
houses wherever they went.
But that was only the surface appearance of this truly incredible family. Beneath the
glittery facade, the Circus was also one of the most valuable weapons in SOTE’s arsenal
against treason. This was a fact that was known to only a handful of people outside the
d’Alembert family itself-that handful being the Imperial family, the Head of SOTE, and his
daughter/second-in-command. So secret was the Circus’s connection with SOTE that no
mention had ever been made of it in writing and no records of its activities had ever been
put on file, lest some enemy gain access to SOTE’s computer and learn the truth. The
d’Alemberts were not even on the Empire’s payroll; through a complicated system of
maneuvering, the Circus’s taxes were rebated to the d’Alemberts-and so successful was
the show that that money was more than sufficient to fund the family’s activities for the
Service.
Yvette had at her disposal dozens of relatives to help staff the Paradise. All the
members of her prolific family were from the high-gravity world of DesPlaines-and as
such, they were the products of generations of forced evolution. Their reflexes were
three times quicker, their bones three times stronger and their muscles three times more
powerful than those of normal humans. DesPlainians in general were in great demand in
any job requiring speed and strength.
Added to that, though, was the d’Alembert family’s longstanding tradition of physical
perfection. They were circus performers, their bodies well-oiled machines of classic
efficiency. The d’Alemberts were DesPlainians-plus; and that extra margin of ability was
sometimes the only advantage the Service had in its eternal struggle against the forces
of chaos.
With the exception of those men and women Yvette had hired exclusively for their
physical charms, each of Paradise’s crew, people-from the captain down to the lowliest
galley boy-was a member of her talented family. Each was skilled enough to perform his
appointed task-and in a fight, there was simply no comparison.
Pias’s only objection at first was on the subject of croupiers and dealers. He wanted to
put professionals in those positions, to guard against any card sharps that might slip past
even his thorough scrutiny. But Yvette put his mind to rest in that regard; all the people
she assigned to work the tables were proteges of her Uncle Marcel, the Circus’s
magician. Not only were they adept at sleight of hand themselves, but their trained eyes
could spot any trickster in a moment. They gave Pias a free show, and the Newforester
left shaking his head … but convinced that no cheats would manage to evade the
Paradise’s security.
Finally, after seven long weeks of preparation, the Paradise was ready to begin its
historic maiden voyage. Pias made it a gala celebration, hosting an enormous party for
the press and public alike. He made a short, exciting speech about the thrills of the
excursion they were about to undertake, and of the many marvels that awaited the
Paradise’s passengers. He announced that the first four voyages were completely
booked, and then asked for questions. Many of the inquiries dealt with him personally.
Who was this mysterious entrepreneur who had appeared out of nowhere to start this
daring project? Pias, who had assumed the pseudonym of “Brian Sangers,” had a great
deal of fun dropping misleading and totally invented clues about his shady past-much of
which he stole shamelessly from the book reels he had read so avidly as a child. Finally,
a d’Alembert, who’d been planted in the audience as a member of the press, asked the
question the Bavols had been wanting raised all along. “With all the money and valuables
that will be on board your ship, aren’t you afraid you might become a target for pirates?”
“Not at all,” Pias replied with a casual toss of his hand. “As you might have guessed from
what I’ve told you of my background, I’m familiar with many aspects of violence in space.
I have devised a security system that makes the Paradise as immune to pirate attack as
an Imperial battle cruiser. Our patrons will be as safe aboard this ship as they would be
in their own homes. Safer, in fact; in your own home you always have to worry about
burglars, and there will be no burglars aboard the Paradise.”
With that provocative little tidbit of information thrown to them, the reporters leaped on
the subject of security. They wanted to know whether the Paradise had its own heavy
space artillery to ward off attackers. Pias smiled as he replied, “You all know it’s a
violation of Imperial law for any private vessel to travel armed through interstellar space.”
The reporters did not consider that an answer, and kept pressing for more details. Pias
was delighted by their attention and milked it for all it was worth, while saying nothing in
the process. Finally he called a halt to this line of interrogation.
“Please, everyone-if I give you all the details of my security system, the pirates will know