male here-was half hidden by a thick growth of beard; that would help. He let his
shoulders sag slightly under the load they were carrying, and he hunched in his neck so
that his chin was almost even with his shoulders. He reminded himself to speak in a slow
drawl. He wanted there to be as few clues as possible to remind her of anyone she
might have known.
“What are you doing here?” she asked sharply. From her tone, she might still have been
one of society’s leading lights questioning a disobedient servant.
“Well, gospozha, I didn’t mean to come,” Jules said. He was putting on an act, creating a
character as different from duClos as he could make it, staring abashedly at the floor
and shuffling awkwardly from one foot to another. “Me and my friend here, we’re just
hunters from the village, and we got lost from the rest of our friends in the storm, and. .
.”
“Look at me when you speak.”
“Uh, yes, uh sorry, gospozha. Anyway, we was lost and my friend collapsed, so I started
carrying him, and then the storm stopped and I saw your house up here, and I thought I
might ask for some help, and I . ..”
“You carried him all the way up the hill?” Boros’s eyes narrowed and she looked more
closely at Jules.
The agent gave her a broad, toothy grin. “Why yes, gospozha, he ain’t that particularly
heavy. When you get used to draggin’ wallowers around in the marsh, you don’t think
much of luggin’ a little guy like him.”
The woman was staring at him, now, examining his face closely-too closely for his
comfort. “What did you say your name was?” she asked.
“Brecht, gospozha, Ernst Brecht. Can I put my friend down somewhere-he is startin’ to
get a mite heavy.”
“No, you may not.” She walked around him, observing him from all angles, then came
back to face him again. “Tell me, Ernst Brecht, when were you last on Earth?”
“Oh, I ain’t never been on Earth, gospozha. No, never been there in my life. How could I
afford it? That’s for the rich folks and the nobles.”
“Then where could I have met you?” The question was only half directed at him; the other
half was to herself.
“Don’t know, gospozha. I’m sure I’d remember someone as pretty as you. Ever been to
Islandia? That’s where I come from.”
“I’ve never even heard of Islandia.”
“That’s too bad, gospozha. It’s a really nice place. I wish I was there right now-all bright
and warm and sunshiny. I wish I’d never left. I sure wish now I’d never done them
things…”
“Oh, shut up!” Boros snapped peevishly. Jules could tell she was emotionally as childish
as ever-a fact he’d been relying on. She had little patience for anything that didn’t play
the game the way she wanted it played.
Turning to her henchman, she said, “This imbecile’s no threat to us. Wait until it gets a
little darker, then take him back in the copter. Drop him off near the rest of his friends
and let him walk the rest of the way. Don’t let them see you.”
She turned back to Jules. “One thing you’d better keep in mind, Gospodin Brecht. I know
everything important that goes on in the village. I have people keeping me informed. I
don’t want you to start talking about this house, is that clear? If you do, I will be very
upset. and I may have to take steps to silence you permanently. Do you understand?”
Jules gulped noisily. “Yes, gospozha.”
The guard who’d brought Jules in looked at Boros in amazement. “Why don’t we just kill
him now and be done with it?” he asked. “No one would miss him.”
“I gave you your orders. Carry them out.” Tanya Boros stalked huffily out of the room
once more.
The guard was a bit perplexed, but he knew better than to disobey instructions from that
woman. Taking Jules roughly by the arm, he said, “This way, snowslusher.”
Jules was equally puzzled by Boros’s action. Although she had never, to his knowledge,
committed murder as part of her father’s plot-she was much too lazy and self-indulgent
to care about such things-he nonetheless did not believe such things were beyond her
capabilities. If he’d been in her place, he’d have killed the trespasser in an instant. He’d
been prepared to put up a fight immediately if it became necessary-but he was most
thankful that it wasn’t. He would rather have the opportunity to make more careful and
detailed plans. He would not look past the molars on this particular gift hone.
But he was still worried as he was escorted out of the house. Tanya Boros might not
have recognized him this time, but he knew they would meet again-and anything might
happen then.
Chapter 10
Betrayal
When Yvette left the Paradise on the planet Bromberg, she took with her a great deal of
specialized equipment-including a miniaturized nondirectional subcom transmitter. The
pirates’ appetite had been whetted by their disastrous attack on the Bavols’ vessel, but
the interest would have to be maintained. Left to his own devices, the pirate leader might
decide that the Paradise was not worth the effort for further forays. It was Yvette’s job
to convince him otherwise-and for that, she needed inside help.
Naval Intelligence had already managed to infiltrate the pirates’ hierarchy with one of
their own men, a Commander Paul Fortier. The Navy’s spy had worked his way into the
position of the pirate leader’s chief lieutenant, and was sending back useful information at
irregular intervals-whenever it was safe to broadcast-that had allowed the Navy to keep
the pirate menace at least under control. The Navy had been on the verge of closing this
gang down for good when Fortier sent word hinting at a larger organization extending
throughout the Empire. The decision was made back at Headquarters to allow this gang
to continue while Fortier probed deeper into the subject of the overall conspiracy. At
about this time the Gastonian connection came to light, and now SOTE was involved as
well. Yvette hoped to work with Fortier to smash this treasonous network before Edna’s
ascension to the Throne. There was not much time left.
Once she had set up her base of operations in a small hotel room on Bromberg, Yvette
set about the tricky task of signaling Fortier. This was not easy, because the naval
officer could not stand by his subcom unit waiting for calls. His communicator was
probably well-concealed somewhere on or near the pirate base, recording all incoming
messages. Whenever it was safe to do so, Fortier would play them back and learn what
was expected of him. In this case, Yvette gave him instructions in a high-level code to
rendezvous with her as soon as practical at The Black Hole Caf‚ on Bromberg at ten any
evening. She described what she looked like and told him she’d seen his photo, so she
could identify him.
With that accomplished, there was nothing to do but wait. As an important officer in the
pirate force, Fortier would have more freedom of movement than most of the men-but
even so, he could not come and go as he pleased. To avoid suspicion he would have to
wait until there was a logical reason for him to go to Bromberg-either to sell some of the
pirates’ stolen goods, to buy supplies or to recruit more people for their band; then he
would have to find a reason to slip away from his companions and meet her at the
designated spot. It could be days or weeks before he showed up, but Yvette forced
herself to be patient. She knew all too well the hazards of an agent working in the field,
and she knew Fortier could not afford to hurry; it was his neck on the line, after all.
Yvette became a steady customer at The Black Hole Caf‚, coming in regularly every
night at eight-thirty and staying well past eleven. After the first week, the manager began
setting aside a special table just for her, off in one dark corner where she could have the
privacy she requested. Sometimes the caf‚’s staff wondered about this beautiful,
mysterious woman who sat by herself and ate dinner, rebuffing the advances of the few
men who tried, at first, to pick her up. Eventually no one bothered any more, and Yvette
became as much a fixture in the caf‚ as the paint stains on the baseboards or the faded
paper on the walls.
Finally, after more than three weeks of waiting, Yvette looked up one night to see Paul
Fortier enter the caf‚. He was a short, muscular man with black hair, brown eyes and a
thin mustache. He wore an open-necked white shirt with a gray vest and pants, boots,
and a short gray cape with red velvet appliquds. On his head was a small red skullcap.