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

quarters that Pias wanted. He waited for just the proper moment, and then acted.

There was a jolt as the plate they were on began its rise up the tube. It was a mild

movement, but it was enough to joggle the pirate’s gun hand. That was all the help Pias

needed. He brought his own hand up quickly to deflect the other man’s weapon. The

blaster went off, but its bolt was spent harmlessly against the wall of the tube, and he

never got a chance for a second shot. Pias’s elbow shot up, catching the man with a

vicious blow to the windpipe that rendered him instantly unconscious. The blaster

dropped from his hand and Pias, with his high-gee reflexes, picked it out of the air and

gripped it securely. He turned facing the door, prepared to blast the other two pirates the

instant he reached the surface.

It was quite fortunate for him that his reflexes were so fast, for the two people he faced

were not the pirates who had gone up the tube before him, but his own wife and

Commander Fortier. Had he fired point blank, he might well have killed the only two allies

he had on the entire planet-but, when he saw who they were, he was able to hold his fire

in time.

Yvette saw her husband armed and ready for a fight, and smiled. “We came to rescue

you,” she said, indicating the two guards who lay unconscious on the ground before her,

“but I guess you beat us to it.”

“We have a saying on Newforest which translates roughly, ‘The hangman loves a person

who’s expecting a reprieve.’ I wasn’t going to my execution quite that docilely.”

Yvette clucked mockingly. “And how many times have you told me to be patient and have

faith in you?”

“Faith is all very well,” Pias said, holding up the weapon in his right hand, “but give me a

blaster any time.”

Fortier saw his chance here to break into the conversation. “It’s a lucky thing for you I

planted a bug in Shen’s office, or we wouldn’t have known you were in trouble and been

able to head it off.”

Pias dropped his gaze for a moment. “I really miscalculated this time, I guess.”

“That doesn’t matter now, anyway,” Fortier said. “There’s been a change in plans. I just

received a subcom call from Headquarters back at Luna Base. They know when the

attack is going to take place, and they’ve issued us a new set of orders.”

Fortier explained that somehow the high command had learned that the enemy fleet

would be making its rendezvous at a particular spot in just a couple of days. Fortier and

at least one of the SOTE agents were to go on ahead and wait there, while the Navy

kept its own ships just a short distance away, out of detection range. The instant the

pirate fleet showed up, the scout ship would call the Navy, who would then sweep in and

destroy the enemy before it had a chance to attack Earth.

“You’re the logical choice to come with me,” Fortier told Pias as he concluded his

explanation. “You’re dead if you’re seen on this world any more.”

“What about her?” Pias asked, pointing at Yvette. “Doesn’t she come, too””

“Someone has to stay with Shen in case he tries something unexpected,” Yvette said,

shaking her head. “The commander was the logical choice for that, except for one

thing-he’s the only one among us who can pilot a ship. Therefore he has to go. It’s a

shame to blow the cover identity he’s worked so hard to build, but there’s no other

choice. The same goes for you. I at least still have a chance here-Shen may still think I’m

useful to him. That’s why I’m staying.”

Both husband and wife knew how slender a thread of hope that was. Shen was

unpredictable, and could order Yvette killed tomorrow for some reason real or imagined.

Pias hated the thought of leaving his beloved spouse to such an uncertain fate, but he

knew she was right-if someone had to stay behind, she was the only choice. And both

had long ago resigned themselves to death if they should make any mistakes in their job.

It was not a pleasant alternative, but it was a necessary one.

Fortier showed them the way to another elevator tube, one that was seldom used, and

the trio descended once more into the depths of the pirate base. Already, now that they

knew what to look for, they could see that activity within the base had stepped up, that

teams of workers were laboring furiously to get all the ships into fighting shape. There

was going to be a big move coming quite soon, just as Headquarters had said, and the

rebel forces were readying for the push.

The increased activity made it a little more difficult to steal a ship, as there was scarcely

a vessel that did not have someone checking it out. While Yvette and Pias remained in

hiding, Fortier strolled boldly out among the workers, secure in his identity as Rocheville,

Shen’s top assistant. He returned to the SOTE agents half an hour later to say that he’d

located a scout ship with only two mechanics working on it, and that it would be the best

they could find on short notice. Time was crucial now; it could not be much longer before

Shen learned that Pias had not been killed, and then an all-out hunt for the fugitive would

begin.

The three undercover agents crept furtively through back corridors of the base to the

ship Fortier had chosen. It was a matter of only a few seconds’ fighting, and the ship

was theirs. “These people have already done most of the work,” Fortier commented as

they tied the mechanics up and left them in a seldom-visited storage area. “It should only

take me about ten minutes or so, and we’ll be all set to leave.”

Ten minutes did not give the Bavols much time to say all they wanted to say to one

another. They had been separated for the first time since their wedding when Yvette left

the Paradise, and had only been reunited a few days ago when the pirates captured that

ship-and even that had been a less than satisfactory reunion, because they were playing

roles that forced them to act as though they hated one another. Now they were to be

separated once more-and there was a strong possibility that they might never see each

other alive again.

Words were totally inadequate to express the feelings flowing between them as they

stood in the ship waiting for Fortier to announce he was ready for takeoff. They looked in

each other’s eyes and caressed each other’s face. Then, drawn as though by a powerful

magnet, they embraced tightly and surrendered themselves to a passionate, lingering

kiss that continued unabated until they heard Fortier clearing his throat discreetly behind

them.

“All smooth,” he said simply.

With great reluctance, Yvette pulled herself away from her husband’s embrace. “Take

care of yourself, mon cher.” she said quietly. “I’ll see you back on Earth.” Then abruptly

she turned and walked out of the ship, before her eyes betrayed her and she showed the

tears she felt were coming.

She moved quickly away from the area without looking back. A few minutes later she

felt, rather than heard, the vibrations from the ship’s departure. Alarms began ringing

through the base almost instantly at the unauthorized takeoff. The confusion as people

ran through the halls helped cover her own retreat back to the quarters that had been

provided for her. It was almost certain that the pirates would mount some sort of chase

after the fleeing ship-but, caught unaware as they were, they should be no match for

Fortier’s skills as a pilot.

The naval commander would be off their screens before they could get very far-and once

off, he was unlikely to be found again.

Yvette returned to her room and waited. She was expecting Shen to call her soon and let

her know that she’d been right about “Brian Sangers,” that he was dangerous and not to

be trusted. What she wasn’t expecting was the tirascaline gas that came seeping slowly

through the ventilator over her doorway. She tried to rise from her bed at the first whiff of

the sickeningly sweet sleep drug, but fell back limply in a matter of seconds, totally

unconscious.

She awoke with a ringing in her head and the room swimming around her. At first she

was disoriented, but came slowly to the realization that she was lying on her back atop a

table. It took her another few minutes before her head cleared enough to note that her

arms and legs were chained to the four corners of the tabletop.

As she started stirring, testing the strength of her bonds, a man entered the room. He

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