wire, Yvette squatted and drove both powerful legs downward and to her right-and something snapped, with a harsh”
metallic report as loud as a pistol shot.
The wire, all its terrific tension released instantly as one end broke free and dropped, coiled itself up in the air with
metallic whinings and slitherings; and Yvette d’Alembert, premiere aerialiste of all civilization, sprawling
helplessly in mid-air, began her long fall to the floor.
Eighteen d’Alemberts came to life on their perches, seized all the equipment they could reach, and hurled it all at
the falling girl. One of her frantically reaching fingertips barely touched the bar of one swinging trapeze; none of
the other apparatus came even close.
Jules, in the lowest position. had more time than did any of the others; but he did not have a millisecond to spare. In
the instant of the break he went outward and downward alone the arc of the ninety-eight-foot radius of his tophung
flying ring. His aim was true and the force of launching had been precisely right.
Yvette was falling face down. flat and horizontal, at a speed of over seventy feet a second as she neared the point of
meeting. Jules, rigidly vertical at the bottom of his prodigious swing, was moving almost half that fast. In the
instant before a right-angle collision that would have smashed any two ordinary athletes into masses of bloody
flesh. two strong right hands smacked together in the practically unbreakable hand-over-wrist grip of the aerialist
and Yvette spun and twisted like a cat-except much faster. Both her feet went flat against his hard, flat belly. Her
hard-sprung knees and powerful leg muscles absorbed most of the momentum of his mass and speed. Then, at the
last possible instant, her legs went around his waist and locked behind his back, and his right hand flashed up to join
his left in gripping the ring.
That took care of the horizontal component of energy, but the vertical one was worse-much worse; almost twice as
great. Its violence drove their locked bodies downward and into a small but vicious arc; a savagely wrenching
violence that would have broken any ordinary man’s back in a fraction of a second. But Jules d’Alembert, although
only five feet eight in height, had a mass of two hundred twenty-five pounds, most of which was composed of
superhard, super-reactive muscle; unstretchable. unbreakable gristle; and super-dense, super-strong, horse-sized
bone. His arms were as large as, and immensely stronger than, an ordinary Earthman’s legs.
The two bodies, unstressed now relative to each other” began to hurtle downward together, at an angle of thirty
degrees from the vertical, toward the edge of the ring facing the reserved-seat and box section of the stands.
The weakest point in the whole stressed system was now Riles’ grip on that leather-covered steel ring. Could he
hold it? Could he possibly hold it? Not one person in all that immense audience moved a muscle: not one of them
even breathed.-
He held his grip for just under half a second, held it while that half-inch nylon cable stretched a good seven feet,
held it while the entire supporting framework creaked and groaned. Then the merest moment before that frightful
fall would have been arrested and both would have been safe, Jules’ hands slipped from the ring and both began to
fall the remaining forty feet to the ground.
A high-speed camera, however, would have revealed the fact that they did not fall out of control, Each landed in
perfect position. Hard-sprung knees took half of the shock of landing; bard-sprung elbows took half of what was
left. Heads bent low on chests; powerful leg muscles drove forward; thick, hard shoulders and back muscles struck
the floor in perfect rolls; and both brother and sister somersaulted lightly to their feet.
Hand in hand, they posed motionless for a moment; then bowed deeply in unison. turned and ran lightly to an exit –
and they covered that one hundred yards of distance in less than five seconds.
And the multitude of spectators went wild.
They had seen a girl falling to certain death. They had felt a momentary flash of relief-or actually of disappoint-
ment?-when it seemed as though her life might be saved. Then they had watched two magnificently alive young
people fall, if not to certain death, at least to maiming, crippling injury. Then, in the climactic last split second” the
whole terrible accident had become the grand finale of the act.
That it was a grand finale-a crashing smash of a finish -there was no possible doubt. The only question was” what
emotion predominated in that shrieking, yelling, clapping, jeering, cheering, whistling and catcalling throng of
Earth-people-relief, appreciation or disappointment?
Whatever it was, however, they had all had the thrill of a life-time; and few if any of them could understand how it
could possibly have been done.
For of the teeming billions of people inhabiting the nine hundred forty-two other planets of the Empire of Earth,
scarcely one in a million had ever even heard of the planet DesPlaines. Of those who had heard of it, comparatively
few knew that its surface gravity was approximately three thousand centimeters per second squared-more than
three times that of small, green Earth. And most of those who knew that fact neither knew nor cared that harsh,
forbidding, hostile DesPlaines was the home world of the Circus of the Galaxy and of The Family d’Alembert.
II
The Service of the Empire (SOTS) was founded in 2239 by Empress Stanley 3, the first of the Great Stanleys,
who, during her reign of 37 years (2237-2274) inculcated in it the spirit of loyalty and devotion that has
characterized it ever since. Its spirit wavered only once, under weak and vicious Empress Stanley S, whose
reign-fortunately very short (2293-2299)-was calamitous in every respect. SOTE came to full power, however,
only under Emperor Stanley 10 (reign 2379- ), the third and greatest of the Great Stanleys, under whom it
became the finest organization of its kind ever known. (Baird, A Study of Security, Ed. 2447, p. 291).
The Brawl in the Dunedin Arms
The city of Tampeta, Florida, had a population of over fifteen million. It included, not only what had once been
Tampa, St. Petersburg and Clearwater, but also all the other cities and villages between Sarasota on the south and
Port Richey on the north. Just outside Tampeta’s city limit, well out toward Lakeland, Jay the Pinellas Fair Ground.
There the Circus of the Galaxy had been playing to capacity crowds for over a week, with a different show
especially with an entirely different climax-every night.
Jules and Yvette d’Alembert, as top stars of the show, of course had private dressing rooms. They also had private
entrances. Thus no one connected with the show saw, and no one else either noticed or cared, that two short, fat
Delfians, muffled to the eyes in the shapelessly billowing robes and hoods of their race, joined one of the columns
of people moving slowly toward the exit leading to the immense parking lot. It took them half an hour to get to
their car, but they were in no hurry.
Out of the traffic jam at last, Jules maneuvered his heavy vehicle up into the second-level, west-bound Interstate
Four and sped for the Dunedin district and the Dunedin Arms” one of the plushiest night spots in all North
America. At the Arms, he gave a dollar to the parking-lot attendant” another to the resplendently-uniformed
doorman and a third to the usher who escorted them ceremoniously into the elevator and up to the fourth floor. At
the check-stand the two Delfians refused-as expected-to part with any of their mufflings Jules did, however-also as
expected give the provocatively clad hat-check girl a dollar before he handed his reservation slip and a five-dollar
bill to the bowing captain.
“Thank you, sir and madam,” that worthy said. “We are very glad indeed to have you with us this evening” Mister and
Miss Tygven. Will you have your table now, or perhaps a little later?”
“A little later, I think,” Jules said, using faultlessly the Russo-English “Empirese” that was the court language of the
Empire. He paused then, and gazed about the huge room. At his right, along the full two-hundred-foot length of the
room, ran the subduedly ornate, mirror-backed bar. At his left were three tremendous windows overlooking the
beach and the open Gulf. Heavy tables of genuine oak, not too closely spaced, filled the place except for a large
central dance floor. On a stage at the far end of the room a spotlighted, red-haired stripper was doing her stuff.
Priceless paintings and fabulous tapestries adorned the walls. Suits of armor dating from the ancient days of
chivalry stood on pedestals and niches here and there. The place was jammed with a gay, colorful and festive
crowd; there were only a few vacant places even at that tremendously long bar.
It was quite evident why the captain had suggested a short delay, so Jules said, “Yes, later, please. We will do a little