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d’Alembert 7 – Planet of Treachery – E E. Doc Smith

carefully in the next few days to find out exactly how much we know and how much we

don’t. How we react will, to some extent, affect his plans-though I agree with Cesare, I

don’t think he’d call off the attack completely just because we’re expecting it.”

The Emperor drummed his fingers nervously on the arm of his chair. “Then we must

consider carefully what we do. What alternatives are open to us’?”

“I would be remiss in my duty to protect the lives of the Imperial family,” said the Head,

“if I didn’t suggest postponing the Coronation until this affair is over.”

“Never!” Edna’s voice echoed decisively in the small room. “I don’t mean to sound

grabby, Father, but I don’t think we should let a pack of hooligans decide when Imperial

business may be carried out. It’s bad enough that they ruined my wedding; if we let them

succeed now, then every official function becomes susceptible to their blackmail. I say

we continue with the Coronation even if civil war is raging and the Empire is coming down

around our ears.”

William Stanley beamed proudly and looked at the other two men. “You just heard your

Empress’s pleasure-and mine too, I might add. Any plans we make must take into

account the fact that the Coronation will proceed as planned.” “Khorosho,” the Head

nodded. “I only proposed that because it was my duty to consider it. I wasn’t in favor of it

either. If we canceled, it would let C know definitely that we’re aware of his plans;

continuing as scheduled can only increase his doubt and confusion-which is all to our

good. Tell me, Admiral, can our regular defensive fleet stationed in the solar system

cope with an armada like theirs?”

“One thousand small ships and a few of the larger class?” Benevenuto was thoughtful.

“No, not entirely, I’m sorry to say. We could handle their big ships well enough, but some

of the smaller ones are bound to slip through our nets and cause damage. I would have

to call in reinforcements from some of our nearer bases to handle the threat fully.”

“I thought as much,” the Head nodded. “And that’s exactly what C will be watching for. It

would prove to him that we know his plans.”

“I’d prefer to do that than leave Earth inadequately protected,” Benevenuto harrumphed.’

“Forgive me; intelligence work sometimes gets so Machiavellian that I fail to fully explain

my thoughts. I’m talking about a feint. C will be watching our nearby bases closely,

knowing that only ships from there could be moved here in time to reinforce Earth’s

defenses. He might not be paying that much attention to some of our more distant

bases.”

“But what good are they,” Edna asked, “if they can’t reach Earth in time to defend us?”

“Lady A said that all the enemy ships would be rendezvousing at a given spot. If we were

to launch an attack against them there, before they’ve had a chance to get fully

organized, we could wreck their plans before they start and scatter their fleet to the eight

corners of the Galaxy.”

“That plan has some merit,” Benevenuto agreed. “But isn’t C likely to at least change the

rendezvous spot if he thinks his plans have been compromised?”

“It is a possibility, yes,” the Head admitted. “Though that spot was probably chosen for

its centralized location; he would have to do a lot of emergency communication to make

sure all his divisions were informed of any change. Still, space is big and he could find

plenty of other secret places to meet.

“But even if he does change the meeting spot and our ships find nothing there, we can

give them secondary orders to proceed immediately to Earth. They should arrive about

the same time as C’s ships, presenting him with a stronger force than he counted on

facing. We wouldn’t have much time to coordinate battle tactics between the home fleet

and the reinforcements, but we’d have the numbers and the surprise on our side, for a

change.”

Benevenuto was wavering. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I much prefer straight military might

to the convoluted maneuvers of the intelligence branch. It may be stodgy, but it would

ensure an adequate defense of Earth.”

“If we pulled in ships from nearby bases, thus alerting C to the fact we know his plans,”

the Head argued, “he might decide to go after secondary targets-such as the systems

we take our reinforcements from. None of them will be able to withstand C’s fleet in their

weakened condition. We could end up sacrificing a much larger chunk of our territory

than we’d like. I say we lure C into the solar system by pretending not to know his plans,

then clobber him. It’s a little riskier, but it gives us the chance to break up his fleet in one

decisive battle.”

“I’d have to run it through our computers to calculate the odds for and against the various

alternatives,” the admiral said. William Stanley stood up. “You do that, Cesare, but do it

quickly. Personally, I think Zander has handed us a well thought out plan, and I’d like to

see it implemented. In any case, I want you in my office with a completed scheme by

nine A.M. tomorrow. I want to make sure there’s an Empire left to hand over to my

daughter on Friday.”

Chapter 15

A Change of Plans

Pias Bavol did not panic when his scheme to work his way into Admiral Shen’s

organization failed so miserably. He was a man who believed in utilizing all his resources

to their best advantage-and one of the best resources he had was his own mind.

Yvette and Fortier were two other resources in his favor, but he could not use them just

now. Neither had been with him in Shen’s office, and neither knew the trouble he now

faced. As far as they were both aware, everything was proceeding according to

schedule. He would have to extricate himself from this mess on his own.

There were three pirates escorting him, each with blaster drawn and aimed directly at his

back. He could not simply run away, and even his high-gee reflexes were not quick

enough to disarm three men before they had a chance to fire at him. There had to be

some way, though, of narrowing the numbers a bit. All it took was the right set of

circumstances.

He began whistling and walking at a pace much too jaunty for someone under sentence

of imminent death. “Come back here,” said the leading pirate behind him. “Where do you

think you’re running to?”

“I’m not running,” Pias answered, slowing his pace just a trifle. “Shen said he wanted you

to take me up to the surface. I was going to the elevator tube.”

“If you don’t wait for us, we’ll shoot you right here in the hall. I’d think you’d want to take

your time. What are you so happy about?”

“Did I say I was happy?” Pias asked. “Just because I refuse to get depressed by the

thought of my own death doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it. I’ve lived a pretty

fascinating life, but it had to come to an end sometime, I suppose. Hey, have you guys

ever heard of the women of Tartarus?”

All of them had, of course; the courtesans and the fleshpots of that world were legendary

throughout space. Pias began weaving the men a fabricated history of his own

adventures there, including a detailed account of his night spent with three of the fabled

ladies at once. The pirates were practically drooling as Pias graphically described the

exotic events of that fabulous evening. By the time the party arrived at the elevator tube

the guards were so engrossed in Pias’s story that they were less than careful about the

way they were guarding him.

As Pias had remembered, the elevator tubes were small ones, holding only two people

at a time; since the pirates’ ships were in underground silos that could be entered from

the base, they had little cause to go to the surface in large numbers. One way or

another, the group would have to split up momentarily, and Pias would find himself alone

with only one pirate guarding him.

So entertaining had his story been that the men did not consider him a serious threat.

They decided that two of them would go up first, training their guns on the entrance so

that Pias didn’t dare make a break the instant he emerged from the tube. As the first two

disappeared up the tube, the third man stayed far enough away that Pias couldn’t jump

him before he could fire his blaster. Pias waited patiently, seemingly unconcerned about

the situation he was in.

When the light came on indicating the tube was ready for them, the pirate motioned Pias

to get in and then stepped in behind him. They were now, of necessity, in the confined

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