The Head paused and let out a deep breath. ‘In the meantime, the search that started sixty-seven years ago is continuing. It began in 2380, twenty years before I was born. As I said, the record of it covers more than forty reels. Results have been nearly nil, except for three very good forgeries, yet somehow this lack of results has cost the Service eighty-nine lives.’ He paused again, t let that sink in. ‘Eighty nine. A hideous waste – and the number has been accelerating of late. Two years ago, several leads came to light, pointing back to Durward. We sent in some good agents to investigate. Three months ago, all those agents stopped reporting. Then I sent in three more, of a much higher caliber, and gave them orders to avoid all previous contacts. They disappeared without a trace. I sent in one more just three weeks ago, one of my absolute best. Vanished; he was gone as though he never existed.’
He pounded a fist down on his desk in frustration. ‘Damn it, there is something out there that is eating my agents, and I don’t like it. We must find out what it is and stop it, before it grows completely out of bounds. That’s why I brought in the Circus, and particularly you two; you’re the heaviest artillery the Service has.
The threat to Stanley Ten and the Royal Family is grave indeed; just how grave even I didn’t comprehend until the events of tonight, with the attack on you in the bar and the discovery of Colonel Grandon’s treachery.’
The Head stood up, walked over to where Jules and Yvette were seated and stood in front of them. ‘Most of the principals in that story are dead. Stanley Nine and Duke Henry most assuredly are – we have adequate proof of that. Aimee Amorat would have to be ninety years old if she is still alive, so we can tentatively rule her out as a viable force. The Bastard, though, at sixty-seven could still be kicking up a lot of traces – and I won’t even begin to speculate about his possible children and grandchildren, of whom we would know nothing.’
He placed a hand on the shoulder of each d’Alembert. ‘I may be overstating the obvious, but I can’t stress enough the importance of this mission to the succession. Stanley Te n was the only legitimate heir to Stanley Nine, and he in turn has only one heir, his daughter. If anything should happen to them, the Galaxy could be plunged into chaos. The Bastard or his heir would undoubtedly come forward with the Patent to make his claim – and it would be the best one, under the circumstances. That Patent would – and probably does, to judge from Grandon’s case- play havoc with the Service’s loyalties by confusing people about whom to support. Not to mention a lot of hitherto loyal dukes and grand dukes who might decide to dispute that claim in their own favor if given half a chance. The result would be civil war, one which could last for centuries and cost untold billions of lives. Our entire civilization could collapse under that heavy burden. It’s a thought I hate to contemplate, yet I must- because I, and you also, have the responsibility of preventing it.’
The Head straightened up again, placing his hands at his sides. ‘The Service’s prime duty, of course, is to protect the Emperor and, after him, his successor. Until tonight I’d thought we could accomplish at least that safely enough; now I can’t be certain just how riddled our organization is with traitors. Whoever has the Patent has been patient, so far, building his opposition to us with meticulous care until he’s wormed his way right into our vital organs. We can’t expect him to wait much longer before he makes his final bid for power.’
‘Our mission then,’ said Yvette, ‘is to destroy the Patent and whoever is holding it.’
‘Not exactly,’ the Head said. ‘It’s a little more ticklish than that. You must find the genuine Patent, to be sure, but we also must have it brought intact, so that Stanley Ten can destroy it with his own hands. Only then will the Throne be safe. Also, you must find Banion the Bastard and capture him alive, if possible; he’s built an organization that is threatening the Empire and, if we’re to destroy it, we’ll need his intimate knowledge of how it works.’
Helena was still looking at Jules with that warmly disconcerting gaze. He ignored it, stood up and looked directly into the Head’s face. ‘You’ll have our best effort, sir, I assure you.
The older man smiled. ‘Then I’m satisfied. I have the utmost confidence in you two.’ He handed them a box containing the records they would need to check, then led them back to the elevator tube. Helena came over and unexpectedly kissed Jules goodbye. The DesPlainian blushed as he and his sister stepped into the tube.
‘Goodbye and good luck,’ the Head called after them adding, under his breath, ‘We’ll all need it.’
CHAPTER SEVEN – CITIZENS OF EARTH
In two centuries, the colonized planets numbered seven hundred, many of them having large populations. As improvements were made in the subether drive, interstellar commerce and communication increased exponentially. And, as usually follows such a trend, interstellar crime increased as well. The colonies still held a sentimental attachment for their mother planet; in fact,
Earth had been acting as an unacknowledged imperium for years. After the Koslov and the short-lived Gomez dynasties died out, the
Stanleys ascended the throne, providing Earth with strong and able kings. Finally, in 2225, King Stanley the Sixth of Earth decided to claim in title what was already his in fact, and crowned himself Emperor
Stanley One of the Empire of Earth.
(Stanhope, Elements of Empire, Reel 2, slot 39.)
With no need to hurry, now, the d’Alemberts drove their car back to Tampeta via surface highways at a leisurely one hundred kilometers an hour. For a long time, both were silent; the import of what the Head had told them had had a very sobering effect, and the responsibility he’d placed on their shoulders was weighty. The fact that, in their first major assignment, the fate of the Galaxy was at stake frightened them.
Finally, to break the silence, Jules said, ‘I knew the Head would have to be a high muckamuck, but I never guessed how high. If his unmarried daughter’s a duchess, he can’t be anything less than a grand duke. I think maybe I’ve seen his picture somewhere, or seen him in a parade of something on tri-dee …’
‘Oh, brother!’Yvette snorted. ‘And I use the term advisedly. You’re the thousand pointer, how come you didn’t recognize Grand Duke Zander von Wilmenhorst on sight? Oh no, he isn’t much of anybody- just one-half Stanley blood and fifth in line for the Throne itself, is all. You’d better break out your Peerage and start studying it.’
Jules banged the side of his head with his palm as though to clear it. ‘I must be dense today. But what a cover for the Head of the Service! He owns Sector Four!’
‘If you play your cards right, you could own it next’ Yvette’s voice was dipped in sarcasm. ‘I saw the way that girl Helena was ogling you. All you’d have to do is marry her and you’ll be in line to be a grand duke yourself.’
Jules blushed hotly. ‘I did nothing to encourage her. And besides, I’m already engaged.’
‘I know that and you know that, but someone neglected to tell Helena.’
Jules let the subject drop there and drove along in silence. They arrived back at the Circus shortly after sunup. Even now there was some activity – a big show like the Circus of the Galaxy never sleeps – but they knew that their father would not be awake until later in the day; and besides, they themselves were exhausted. They had lived through more excitement in the past twelve hours than even the superhuman body was built to withstand. So, instead of reporting in immediately, they grabbed a quick snack at the commissary, then went to their quarters and slept for ten consecutive hours. Then, relaxed and refreshed, they went to visit their father.
The Duke sat impassively as they related their adventures with the ambush in the Dunedin Arms and their first meeting with the Head. He scowled when he heard about the traitor who had wormed his way so high up in the Service echelon. When they had finished telling about the chase, a silence followed. ‘Well,’ the Duke asked, ‘what’s your assignment about?’
The two younger people fidgeted and looked at one another. The Head had told them that most of the briefing was off the record and, even though he hadn’t given them explicit instructions about secrecy, he’d no doubt assumed that they would use their discretion. Even though their father was a duke and a top SOTS agent himself, he had no real need-to-know. The fewer people who had knowledge of their mission, the safer they would be.