the enemy was able to push them faster, making them move at their most rapid pace.
It was clear that the people in the copier were toying with them; in the open like this, the
d’Alemberts made easy targets for anyone with the firepower of that craft. The fact that
they weren’t killed outright raised Jules’s hopes that his supposition was correct. The
conspiracy wanted to capture him alive to find out more of what he knew. That would
make what had to be done here that much easier.
Alive, though, did not necessarily mean unharmed. He and Vonnie still could not be
positive the enemy wouldn’t use their blasters to incapacitate their prey.
The door to the but stood invitingly open. They were being herded rapidly in there, even
though they knew the building was booby-trapped. Their only hope lay in finding a safe
way out again before the trap could be sprung.
Again they decided to use their speed as their only weapon in this situation. Outracing
the wall of blaster fire behind them, they ran through the open door into the darkened
interior of the hut.
The back wall of the small building was against a patch of trees, and there was a
window in it. The d’Alemberts didn’t need to communicate in order to coordinate their
movements; there was only one option open to them. In one fluid motion they raced to
the back of the but and dived through the window back into the cover of the swamp.
Barely a millisecond behind them, the but exploded as the blaster beams from the copter
touched off a charge of explosives that had been hidden on the roof. The shock waves
from the blast jarred the agents to their teeth, leaving them slightly stunned. The heat
from the explosion seared their skin and pieces of debris rained down on them like a fiery
hailstorm. They lay face down, unable to move from the shock for a few seconds. In
those few seconds they hoped hard that the enemy did not have infrared detectors. The
d’Alemberts knew they were covered by enough foliage to be invisible to the naked eye,
but an infrared system would spot their body heat among the plants. The few seconds it
took their nervous systems to recover from the blast left them exposed to the deadly
rays from above.
But no blaster bolts came blazing down, and the SOTE agents were slowly able to pull
themselves together and take further stock of the situation. Overhead they could hear the
copter circling the clearing slowly, looking for any sign of human life. Seeing none, the
craft spiraled warily downward so its occupants could inspect the site for themselves.
The d’Alemberts crouched and, at a whispered signal from Jules, they separated, moving
to either side of the clearing, ready to attack from different angles as soon as their
opponents were vulnerable. Their bodies were dripping in sweat after their exertion in the
hot, damp air, but they ignored that. When d’Alemberts were on the hunt, physical
discomfort meant little.
The copter touched down gently a few meters from the remnants of the exploded hut. At
first, nothing happened. Then the door slowly opened and two figures emerged, a man
and a woman. They were clad in lightweight battle armor-enough to deflect stunner
beams and ordinary blaster bolts, yet still flexible enough to allow freedom of movement.
Jules and Vonnie had their heavy-duty blasters with them, having enough power to drill
right through that armor, if necessary. Each armored figure also carried a blaster. There
was no polite, gentlemen’s agreement, fooling around with stun weapons; these people
meant business.
The pair from the copter slowly approached the remains of the hut, weapons at the
ready. Jules waited until they were well away from their vehicle, making retreat impos-
sible, and then yelled at them, “Drop your weapons. I’ve got a Mark Twenty-Nine Service
blaster pointed at you, and it’ll eat through that armor like paper.”
The armored figures did not drop their weapons, nor had Jules expected them to. Even
as he spoke, he was firing his own blaster. His aim was perfect; the beam struck the
other man’s weapon full on, reducing its components to slag almost instantly. From her
hiding point across the way, Vonnie made a similar shot to disarm their other opponent.
Weaponless, now, the armored enemies were in a quandary. They could not fire back at
their opponents, but there was still a slight chance they could make a break back into the
copter. Jules’s second shot discouraged them from considering that notion further as his
beam dug a small trench between the people and their craft. Realizing they were
trapped, the two killers stood still and spread their arms in a gesture of surrender.
“Strip off the armor,” Jules called next, refusing to budge from his position of safety until
he was sure the enemy was totally at his disposal. The two figures fol- I lowed his
instructions, divesting themselves slowly of the cumbersome armor until they stood
revealed in the light clothing they’d worn under it.
Jules eyed them critically. They were a tough, hard muscled pair, probably very good in
a fight-but they were not DesPlainians. He’d never seen either of them before, but then
he hadn’t expected any old friends to show up-the conspiracy seemed to have a limitless
supply of muscle to back up its plans. On a fishing expedition for Wombat and
Periwinkle, Lady A would send only her best.
Only after the two traitors had fully removed their armor did the d’Alemberts step out into
the clearing, guns still trained on their enemies. Stun-guns would have made the capture
a lot easier, but the agents had been walking into a dangerous encounter and wanted to
be certain they were armed for the worst.
They were not prepared, however, for what happened next. A loud buzzing sound filled
the air, emanating from the copter, and stunner beams hit Jules and Vonnie simul-
taneously. There had been at least two more people hidden inside the vehicle, waiting
just in case the d’Alemberts had survived the explosion.
The SOTE team dropped unconscious to the ground without even having time to
appreciate the irony of the situation. Within seconds the entire outcome had been turned
around, and now the d’Alemberts were prisoners of the killers who’d been impersonating
them.
Chapter 6
Helena Joins the Circus
Following his orders, Captain Fortier gave the von Wilmenhorsts a thorough briefing of
his investigation and the conclusions that had been reached. Grand Duke Zander listened
thoughtfully, occasionally interjecting a question to clarify a point in his mind. Fortier was
uncomfortable in this role. He did not, of course, know that Zander von Wilmenhorst was
the Head of SOTE. As far as he was concerned, the Empress had commanded him to
give this explanation purely as a matter of courtesy to a nobleman of the second-highest
rank in the Empire. With the evidence as convincing as it was, he also felt he was letting
a powerful enemy know the details of the case against him, and he did not like that. He
was duty-bound, though, to carry out the Imperial instructions.
The Grand Duke was silent for several minutes after Fortier finished the briefing. He
leaned back in his chair and peered intently at a point on the floor several meters away.
His mind appeared to be on another level of existence altogether, totally separate from
the material universe. A hush fell over the room; Fortier knew instinctively-as Helena had
learned from long experience-not to interrupt the Grand Duke when he was in a
thoughtful reverie.
At last Zander von Wilmenhorst returned to the here-and-now. “Excuse me for being so
distant, Captain. You’ve told me a fascinating tale, and the implications are truly
staggering. I agree that, under the circumstances, Her Majesty had no other choice but
to put my daughter and me under arrest. There are ramifications to this problem that
even you don’t comprehend yet, and I’m afraid I don’t have the authority to enlighten you.
You’ve done your job well, and I respect you for that.”
Fortier fidgeted. According to everything he knew, the man across the room from him
was the worst traitor in the Galaxy, and yet this enemy was praising him on his work. It
was an uncomfortable situation, and he was leery of a trap.
“I know your orders are to hold Helena and me incommunicado,” the Grand Duke
continued. “I presume that means with respect to the rest of the Empire. Is there
anything in your orders forbidding me from speaking privately with my daughter?”
Fortier reviewed the commands he’d been given, and had to admit there was nothing in
them to prevent such communication. He’d been specifically told to treat the prisoners
with the courtesy and consideration due their rank, and it seemed only fair to him that, in
such time of crisis, father and daughter would want some time by themselves.