somebody big-but tell me, are we going to sit here all night patting you on the back or are we going to do
something?”
Jules grinned and gave her a mock-salute. Then they gave each of the men a twelve-bour stun and went elsewhere.
The castle of the Baron of Osberg was some seventy miles away. They parked the car a good mile down the road
from it and. after selecting certain items of equipment, went the rest of the way on foot, being very careful not to
be seen. Then, very cautiously and keeping continuously under cover” they made their way around what was actually
a fortress.
The two gates, front and rear, were built of two-inchsquare bar steel, topped with charged barbed wire. Neither
could be opened except by electronic impulses from inside the castle. The estate was surrounded by a reinforced
concrete wall fifteen feet high, surmounted by interlaced strands of charged barbed wire.
The two grinned at each other and separated. Taking advantage of the high, thick hedges bordering the drive, they
sneaked up to within six feet of the wall. Both squatted down. Eyes met eyes through the lower, leafless part of the
hedges. Muscles tensed and, at Yvette’s nod both leaped at full strength upward and inward. Each cleared the top-
most wire by a good three feet” stunners drawn, and at the top of their silent flight they fired rapidly and precisely”
stunning every guard they could see. Then, running around the main building, each taking a side, they stunned every-
thing that moved. Yvette ran for the garage; Jules ran to the castle’s back door. It was locked, of course! but a
Talbot cutter burned the lock away in seconds.
Jules did not know whether that door opened directly into the kitchen or into a hall; but the fact that it did open into
the back ball made the job easy and simple. The door to the kitchen was not locked. The dozen or so people in it
slumped bonelessly to the floor before any one of them realized that anything unusual was going on. Through the
kitchen Jules went, through the butler’s pantry and the serving hall, and put an eye to a tiny crack between thick
velvet drapes.
The “commons” room was immense. Its beamed ceiling and panelled walls were of waxed yellow-wood. It was fur-
nished lavishly and decorated profusely with ancestral portraits. At the far end there was an antlered fireplace in
which a six-foot log smouldered.
Eleven men were in that room; some sitting, some standing; smoking or drinking or both; talking only occasionally
and mostly in monosyllables; glancing much too frequently at watches on their wrists. Jules brought his stunner to
bear and all eleven collapsed limply into their chairs or onto the floor.
In a couple of minutes Yvette came in. “Okay outside.” she reported crisply. “Now the big frisk.”
“That’s right.”
They went over the castle from subcellar to garrets, and when they were through they knew that everyone else in-
side the wall was unconscious. Then, and only then, Jules went over to the communicator, cut its video and punched
a number.
“This is the Service of the Empire,” a perfectly-trained, beautifully-modulated voice came from the speaker. “How
may I serve you? If you will turn your vision on, please?”
“Sote six,” Jules said. “Affold abacus zymase bezant. The head depends upon the stomach for survival.”
“Bub-but-but, sir. . . .” The change in the girl’s voice was shocking. She had never heard any two of those four
six-letter code words spoken together, and coupled with the words “bead” and “survival” they knocked her out of
control for a moment; but she rallied quickly. “He’s home asleep, sir, but I’ll get him right away. One moment”
please,” and Jules heard the strident clatter of an unusually loud squawk-box.
“Lemme ‘lone,” a sleepy voice protested. “G’way. Cut out the damn racket or. . . .”
“Mr. Borton! Wake up!” the girl almost screamed. “Please wake up! It’s a crash-pri red urgent!”
“Oh.” That had done it. “Okay, Hazel; thanks.”
“You are connected, sirs” and I’m out. Signal green” please, when you are through.” She would much rather take a
beating than listen to any part of the conversation that was to follow” whether she could understand any of it or not.
“Praxis;” Borton said. (Request for identification, symbol, or authority.)
“Fezzle and Fezzle.” (Their own identifying numbersAgents Eighteen and Nineteen.)
“Holy . . .” Borton began, but shut himself up. The very top skimmings of the very top cream of the entire Service!
“Okay.”
“Rafter, angles” angels. Angled. Suffer. Harlot static invert, cosine design. Single-joyful, singer, status” stasis.
Over.”
“My-God! Okay, but you didn’t say where you are.”
“I don’t know your code for local specifics, so … comprehend Old English ig-pay attin-lay?”
“Ess-yay.”
“Tate-ess-ay aron-bay berg-oz-zay.” “Catch.”
“Front gate. Douse you glims short-long-short. Over and out if okay.”
“Catch. Okay,” Borton said. And it was okay-perfectly so. If Agents Eighteen and Nineteen told any planetary chief
of SOTS to go jump in the lake he’d do it-and fast. “Here’s your green, Hazel. Thanks.”
In the time that elapsed before Borton’s arrival at the estate of Baron Osberg’s, Jules and Yvette questioned the
eleven men_ They didn’t get enough to give them a clear lead to the planet Aston and a general idea of what the mob
on Aston would have to be like. Then Borton arrived and they let him in.
“You!” he exclaimed, looking from one spectacular agent to the other and back again. “That’s a switch. You came in
with bands blaring and pennons waving,”
“Check. They would be looking for pussy-footers.” “Could be. . . . If I may ask, I suppose there’s a good reason why
I wasn’t let in on any of this?”
“Very good. Come in and you’ll see what it was.” They led him back into the commons rooms and Jules waved an
arm at the stupefied men who” glazed eyes unseeing, lolled slackly in chairs.
“You used Nitrobarb,” Borton said. “And on the Baron of Osberg. Half of them will die. I see.”
“They’ll all die,” Jules said grimly. “Especially the Baron. Those who live through this will live a few days longer
than the others, is all. But you really don’t see, yet. Keep on looking.”
Borton’s fast-panning gaze came to a burly, crew-cut man of thirty-odd and stopped. His face turned grey; he was
too shocked and too surprised even to swear.
“That’s Alf Rixton,” he managed finally. “My first assistant. He’s been with me over ten years! top clearance-lie
detector and hypnosis-every year. He’s done splendid work.”
“Yeah-for the other side,” Jules said coldly. “The only ones he ever gave you were the ones they wanted to get rid
of. Take over, Borton, it’s all yours. We’ll have to stick around for a while-it’d smell cheesy if we’d leave the planet
too soon-but we don’t want to appear in this. Not a whisper. Nobody around here got a glimpse of us, but there are
nine men-” he told him about them-“who shouldn’t talk.”
“They won’t. But listen! This mess here-I couldn’t possibly have done this alone!”
“Of course not.” Jules grinned. “Your assistant there cooked the whole deal up and helped you swing it. He was a
tiger on wheels. Too bad the honors are posthumous.”
Borton nodded slowly. “Thanks. One of our very best, he died a hero’s death, defending gallantly and so forthsob,
sob-the louse. But this thing of me taking all the credit for an operation that. . . .” He broke off and grinned wryly.
“Okay.”
“Uh-huh,” Jules agreed. Then he and Yvette said in unison, “Here’s to tomorrow, fellow and friend. May we all live
to see it!” And they strode blithely out. One nest bad been cleared out-it was time to move on to the next!
Borton, motionless, stared at the closed door. He knew what those two were-Agents Eighteen and Nineteen-but
that was all he knew or ever would know about them…. But he had too much to do to waste much time wool-
gathering. Shrugging his shoulders, he called his office and issued orders.
Then he set up his recorder and began to ask questions of the hoodlums who were still alive.
THE STANLEY DOCTRINE. Empress Stanley 3 also reorganized, simplified and in a sense standardized the
theretofore chaotic system of nobility. Her system, which has been changed very little throughout the years, is
in essence as follows. Grand Dukes rule sectors of space, each containing many planets. Dukes rule single
planets. Marquises rule continents or the equivalent thereof. Earls rule states or small nations. Counts rule
counties. Barons rule cities or districts. Primogeniture is strict, with no distinction as to sex. Nobles may
marry commoners or higher or lower nobles; the lower-born of each pair being automatically raised to the
full rank of the higher-born spouse. (Stanhope, Elements of Empire, p. 541).
The Switch