The imperial stars by E.E. Doc Smith

Banion had been placed in an orphanage by his mother when he was slightly over two years old, and had eventually been raised by a foster family that knew nothing of his royal ancestry. Aimee Amorat had kept the Patent hidden herself, and kept equally close tabs on her son as he grew and matured. Finally, when he was sixteen years old, she had come to him and told him the true story of his birth. He hadn’t believed her at first, but she had all the proof at hand to convince him – including the Patent, the most conclusive evidence of all. She told him that the Throne and the Empire were his for the taking if he wanted them badly enough; his heritage would depend on his own skill and cunning.

She left the Patent of Royalty with him and then vanished. Though he was to search every corner of the Empire for the next fifty years, there simply was no trace of her to be found. It was as if the Beast of Durward had been swallowed up by the Universe.

But the dream she had left with him had conquered his soul. By the time he was twenty years old, he had already formulated his first tentative plans for galactic domination. By age thirty he had built up a small but intensely loyal organization and was reaping enough profits to allow him to approach Grand Duchess Olga of Sector Twenty. Shrewd woman that she was, she saw the immense benefits to be gained by backing this pretender to the Throne.

T heir marriage accelerated tremendously the growth of his subversive organization until today, thirty-seven years later, it was undermining and sapping the strength of the entire Empire.

Under the Head’s expert probing, Banion revealed all the major hierarchical details of his traitorous organization. With those particulars to work from, the Emperor issued his orders and Fleet Admiral Armstrong carried them out. Since it is much faster in these matters to work from the top down than from the bottom up, full information – including the names of ninety-eight percent of the people involved in the organization – was obtained in less than a week, and the roundup of the miscreants began.

Nicholas and Olga Otamar were tried jointly before the High Court o£ justice, with Stanley Ten himself presiding as judge. They were found guilty by a unanimous vote of their peers and were summarily executed. The Dowager Duchess Tanya was also tried and found guilty of abetting treason. She was sentenced to death, but that sentence was commuted to life imprisonment on Gastonia and loss of all titles in exchange for her renewed vow of loyalty to the Crown. Other participants in the conspiracy received sentences ranging from death to several years in prison, depending on the degree of their involvement.

The vacancies in the various services that resulted from this housecleaning operation were many and terribly shocking, but the menace that had hung like a cloud over the Empire for sixty-seven years was at long last ended. And most importantly – at least to Jules and Yvette d’Alembert- the Service of the Empire was finally scoured clean of even the slightest taint of treason.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – THE IMPERIAL STARS

Because of their high intelligence, their superbly catlike agility, their hair-trigger speed of reaction and their enormous physical strength, DesPlainians were always in demand as fighters, bodyguards and spies. They had been the best secret service agents of, in turn, the Central Intelligence of Earth, the Galactic Intelligence Agency and the Service of the Empire. And of all DesPlainians throughout the years, the d’Alembertshad been by far the best. The fact that the Circus of the Galaxy was SOTE’s right arm did not leak from Earth because only the monarch, the Head and a very few of their most highly trusted intimates ever knew it. Nor did it leak from the Circus. Circus people have never spoken to rubes, and the inflexible Code d’Alembert was that d’Alemberts spoke only to d’Alemberts and to the Head.

(unpublished data)

Again it was late at night. Again the d’Alemberts’ Service Special slanted downward through the air toward the roof of the Hall of State of Sector Four. This time, however, the little speedster was not riding a beam and there was no spot of light upon the building’s roof. Except for the light of the almost full moon, everything was dark and still.

Yvette was doing the driving this time. She was now the Yvette of old, shorn of all disguise and artificiality, and wearing what she considered one of her most presentable pants suit ensembles. Jules, again short- haired and smooth-shaven, looked much like his usual self; only the crutch resting beside him gave any indication that he had been affected by this case.

Coming down with scarcely even a bump, Yvette landed their vehicle near the kiosk of the ultra-private elevator tube. She opened her door and leaped lightly out, then turned to help her brother clamber stiffly and awkwardly out of his side of the car. Duchess Helena came running up to them through the darkness in an extremely un-ducal fashion.

‘Oh Yvette, I’m so proud of you. You were absolutely marvelous!’ She put both arms around Yvette’s neck and kissed her three times on the lips. ‘I’m so glad Father let me be the one to come out and meet you. I’ve been telling him all along that we ought to have more female agents; now maybe he’ll listen to me.’

Then she turned to Jules, who was standing beside her and smiling in the darkness. Very carefully, so as not to upset his balance, she slipped her arms lightly about his waist and gave him an affectionate hug. ‘And you, Jules! I just can’t begin to tell you … but surely you can hug a girl tighter than this, can’t you? Even with a bum leg?’

Jules, returning her kisses enthusiastically, tightened his arms a little, but not much. Then, lifting her by the armpits, he held her effortlessly out at arms’ length with her toes twenty-five centimeters above the ground. ‘Sure I can,’ he said with solemn voice but sparkling eyes; ‘but the trouble is, I never hugged an Earther before and I’m afraid of breaking you in two. It wouldn’t be quite de rigeur, would it, to break a duchess’s back and half her ribs?’

‘Oh, there’s no danger of that. I’m ever so much stronger than …’ She broke off and her eyes widened in surprise as her hands, already on his arms, tried with all their strength to drive their fingertips into his flesh.

‘Oh, I see,’ she said quietly. ‘I never quite realized how densely packed you were.’

Jules lowered her gently to the roof and she led the way into the elevator tube. She did not tell them why the Head had summoned them here tonight, nor did they ask. She was looking a little thoughtful, and as the three of them started to descend she said timidly, ‘Jules, I have something to confess. I was all set to fall in love with you and try to arrange to have you fall in love with me. I know I’m reason ably attractive, and … well, anyway, when I couldn’t even make a dent in those muscles of yours … arms as big and hard as those of a heroic-size bronze … well …’ Her voice died away.

Jules smiled at her to ease her embarrassment. ‘You couldn’t possibly; there’s just too much difference.

Three gravities is a hell of a lot, and we people of DesPlaines just don’t usually marry people who are used to less. I could literally kill you by accident with an overly passionate embrace.’

‘And besides,’ Yvette added with light sarcasm, ‘he’s already spoke for. Vonnie’d tear you apart if you made any inroads on her claim.’

‘But love comes in all sizes, shapes and colors,’ Jules went on. ‘We’d be honored to have yours in a less than physical way.’

‘Oh you do, both of you.’ Helena’s eyes were slightly moist. ‘Love, friendship, admiration, esteem .. ‘ She broke off as the elevator door opened.

Stepping aside, she motioned for them to precede her. They took one step each into the Head’s private office and stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes and mouths becoming O’s of astonishment. For sitting directly before them was the tall, distinguished, gray -haired man who could be none other than Emperor Stanley Ten himself! Beside him, looking equally regal, was the Empress Irene, a statuesque brunette. Over to the side, mixing drinks at the Head’s own private bar, was the lithe but prematurely stern faced

Crown Princess Edna. The Head sat casually in a chair across the room, relinquishing control of his desk momentarily to the Emperor.

Stanley Ten stood up and raised a hand in greeting. ‘No need to kneel,’ he began- but of course, with their speed of reaction Yvette was already on her knees and Jules, gimpy leg and all, was on one. Their heads were bowed meekly, staring at the carpet.

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