known by her late teens that she would be marrying Jules and entering the Service at his
side; as the daughter of a baron, she’d had plenty of leisure time to learn the necessary
tricks of staying alive. Her movements as she fell now were not as graceful as her
husband’s, nor as effortlessly performed-but they were just as practical, and achieved
the same ends.
The D’Alemberts hit a level patch of snow without any protruding obstacles. They turned
the forward momentum component of their leap to their advantage, rolling over in a
somersault that left them, finally, springing to their feet and facing away from the house.
They were bruised from the hard landing of their fall, but no bones were broken and no
muscles sprained. As the guards appeared in the windows from which they had just
leaped, the two SOTE agents began running at top speed.
There was only one destination in both their minds: the small landing field behind the
house where both the copter and the spaceship were sitting. There’d been no need to
discuss that in advance; it was the only transportation around. Trying to leave on foot or
by sleigh would be suicide.
Blaster bolts were sizzling the air around them, melting deep pockets in the snow near
their feet. They ran a random, zigzag pattern to avoid being shot, but some of the beams
were hitting very close anyway. As soon as the guards realized where the two fugitives
were heading, however, most of them stopped firing and started racing down the stairs
to head them off.
The small landing field came into view as the d’Alemberts rounded a corner of the
building. The copter was at the near edge of the pad, with the spaceship more than thirty
meters away at the far side. Nevertheless, Jules gasped, “Ship,” to his wife, and Yvonne
nodded. Taking the copter would be easy, but they would still be stuck on this planet with
no way of getting the information to SOTE Headquarters on Earth. They would have to
find some way of breaking into the garrison and convincing the officials there that they
really were SOTE agents-and since many of those same officials were in Lady A’s pay,
that route was not a safe one, either.
As the DesPlainians sprinted across the open field, some of the guards appeared behind
them, blasters drawn and ready to fire. Jules, checking over his shoulder for just such
pursuit, saw them appear and took a second to stop, turn, draw his own blaster, and fire
at the guards. The small knot of pursuers scattered in search of cover while Jules raced
on. The DesPlainians took turns firing back to keep their enemies honest as they ran
desperately toward the spaceship that was their only hope of escape.
They reached the side of the ship and Jules stood guard at the base while Vonnie
climbed the ladder into the vessel. It was a small ship, built to hold no more than a dozen
people; the d’Alemberts were hoping it was empty at present, and fueled for a quick
takeoff. It would do them little good to get inside and find the-ship cold and completely
shut down; starting it up again could take several hours.
Vonnie had reached the top of the ladder and paused there to draw her own blaster once
more. Now it was Jules’s turn to climb, an exposed target on the side of the ship, hoping
that his wife could keep their attackers busy enough evading her fire that they’d be
unable to get a clear shot at him. He used the strength of his powerful arms to pull
himself up three rungs at a time, but on the last few pulls his hands were sweating so
much, despite the cold, that his grasp almost slipped. At long last-less than ten seconds
from when he started-he reached the airlock level beside his wife, and the two of them
ducked inside and slid the door shut behind them.
They had gained a respite, but it would be a very short-lived one unless they acted
quickly. They raced through the ship with guns drawn, on the chance that there might be
crewmembers still aboard, but they found themselves alone here. While Vonnie continued
the search through the small vessel, Jules went straight to the control room to check the
ship’s takeoff status.
He was happy to see that the instruments were in the standard format, and that there
were controls for weapons as well as for flight. Lady A had a rather sleek little craft
here, and he approved wholeheartedly. His eyes quickly scanned the rows of dials,
noting their reactions as he flipped some of the toggles. By the time Vonnie returned
from her search with the happy news that they were alone in the ship, Jules had
completed his systems analysis. “All smooth and roaring to soar,” he said happily.
Vonnie slid onto the acceleration couch next to his. Turning on the external field monitors,
she said, “We’ve got company, though. They’re not happy about our being here.”
Jules glanced over at her screen. The ground around the ship was swarming with
guards, trying to figure out some way of getting inside. “Can you use the ship’s guns on
them?” he asked.
Yvonne checked her gunnery board. “No, they’re inside minimum range.”
“Then I’ll have to get fancy. Hold onto your boots.” The ship was not yet ready for
takeoff, as it still lacked a course plotting and systems coordination-but, to scare the
people around the base, Jules made a quick motion to turn on the engines for a fraction
of a second. The roar from the base of the vessel was enough to send Boros’s guards
fleeing in all directions. The ship shuddered, but stayed where it was as Jules quickly
turned the motor off again after he’d made his point. Anything more than an instant of
unguided reaction could send the ship toppling over on its side.
Boros’s army was scattered around the ship now at a respectful distance, but not
abandoning the fight entirely. As Jules continued to run quickly through the preflight
systems checkout, Vonnie watched the scene outside with a dubious eye. “I really think
we should give them something to keep them busy,” she mused. “Do we need that house
any longer?” Jules smiled. “I really don’t think so.”
With great glee, his wife set about lining the building up in her sights. “Stationary targets
aren’t much fun,” she muttered, “but they’re better than nothing.”
The ship’s guns roared, and the upper floors of the house exploded in a burst of flame.
Vonnie aimed again, and more of the structure was demolished. “Think that finishes Lady
A and Tanya Boros?” she asked.
Jules didn’t look up from his instruments. “It’s a nice thought,” he said, “but somehow I
doubt it. They probably hid in a bomb shelter the instant we got in here. That’s what I’d
have done in their place.”
The display of force from the ship finally caused the guards to scatter altogether and
move back toward the house to put out the fires now burning there. With the external
pressures removed, Jules was able to finish up his necessary operations in less than ten
minutes. “Strap yourself in,” he warned needlessly, for Yvonne had done so long ago.
“We are about to take our leave of beautiful Gastonia.”
The rockets roared beneath them as their ship lifted skyward with effortless efficiency.
Minutes later they had cleared Gastonia’s atmosphere and were speeding at top velocity
away from the prison planet. Vonnie kept her eyes resolutely on the scanner screens,
looking for any sign of pursuit from the garrison, but nothing came after them. Perhaps
Tanya Boros and the Governor could not mobilize their forces in time; or perhaps-more
likely, in Vonnie’s opinion-they didn’t want to find themselves in the midst of a running gun
battle with this particular craft. Yvonne could tell from studying her instrument board that
Lady A’s ship was as well-armed and deadly as the d’Alemberts’ own Comete Cuivre.
The instant they were far enough away from Gastonia’s gravitational influence, Jules
slipped their little vessel into subspace. He did not make a long jump, just enough to get
them away from the Gastonia system so that their position couldn’t be traced. As soon
as he was positive they were safe from detection, he dropped back into the normal
universe and began warming up the subcom set. He and Yvonne had a long report to
send back to Earth -a report that SOTE Headquarters would want as quickly as
possible.
The Service, meanwhile, was having plenty of problems just coping with the routine
security arrangements for the Coronation that was now just four days away. They had
thought that the security arrangements for Edna’s wedding the previous year had been
difficult-but those were child’s play compared to the logistical monstrosity that confused
them now.
Only once before in the more than two-hundred-year history of the Empire had a