The Best of E E 'Doc' Smith

by E E 'Doc' Smith

  III

  Democracy failed because it could not cope with Communism. This failure, which began early in the twentieth century, became very evident when, in 1922, Canada, the United States of America and Mexico united to form the United States of North America. The Congress of the USNA argued and filibustered, but could not agree upon any effective action against Communism. The Premier of Russia, however, acted. He issued orders; the recipients of which either obeyed them promptly or were promptly shot. (Mees, History of Civilization, Vol. 21, p. 1077).

  The Head

  Sliding down the beam, the d'Alembert's vehicle was heading directly toward the roof of a building that towered at least forty stories above any other structure in its neighborhood.

  Jules slowed down; approached it gingerly; stopped half a mile away. It was all dark, except, strangely enough, for a small, brightly-lighted spot on the roof of one wing.

  "Scan it," Jules said. "Infra first. See what it is."

  Yvette put her eye to the scanner. "Hall of State; Sector Four. That makes sense. State would be the best place to hide the Service, wouldn't it?"

  "Check. And the spot?"

  "Floodlight. One. That's a girl, standing in it. Young. Skinny, but not bad for an Earther. Black hair-throat mike-sweater-shorts-two Mark Twenty-Nine Service blasters hanging loose-sandals. Sneak up, Julie."

  Jules dropped the "car"-which was in fact one of the deadliest fighting machines of its weight ever built by man -down to within a couple of hundred yards of the lighted spot and stopped; and that highly distinctive throaty contralto voice came again from the speaker.

  "It's safe to talk now if we don't say too much," the voice said conversationally. "Are you armed?"

  "Yes." Jules wasn't saying much, yet.

  "Good. You won't need these, then." The girl walked out of the ring of light, put the brutal big hand-weapons down on the roof, and resumed her former place. "You recognize my voice, of course."

  "Yes."

  "You have a retinascope, I suppose."

  "Yes. Hold it a minute."

  Jules cut corn and turned to his sister. "I don't like this a nickel's worth. What Earther's pattern, except the Head's, would we recognize without a comparison disc? Nobody's. So, if this is on the up and up, we've got to manhandle the Head himself."

  Yvette bit her lip. "Well, you said they'd arrange a safe approach, and that certainly would be one. What else can we do?"

  "Nothing," and Jules again flipped the blue switch. "Go ahead."

  "Land anywhere you please and one person will come aboard. Unarmed."

  "Oke." Jules landed the car well away from the ring of light and opened a port.

  In the darkness all that could be seen of the man who came up, empty bands outstretched, was that he was of medium height, of medium build and almost completely bald. He put his hands in through the port and Yvette, taking one of his wrists in each hand, helped him through the narrow opening and into the cramped front compartment of the car, where she held him gently but securely while Jules applied the retinascope to the Earthman's right eye.

  "The Head himself," Jules said. "I'm sorry, sir....."

  "Think nothing of it, Jules." The stranger laughed deeply. "If you had acted differently I would have been amazed, displeased and disappointed. As it is, I am very glad indeed to meet you in the flesh," and he shook hands vigorously. "And you too, Yvette, my dear." Taking her hand, he kissed it in as courtly a fashion as though that tiny, cramped compartment were a ballroom. "And now-purely a formality, of course-the eyes. Yvette first, please," and he banded her the 'scope.

  She fitted it to her eye. "But you didn't put any disc in," she said. "Surely, sir, you don't... ."

  "I surely do." He studied her pattern briefly, then Jules'. "I don't know very many patterns, of course; but Jules and Yvette d'Alembert? You're too modest altogether, my dear." Then, opening the port, he called out, "Still safe, Helena?"

  "Still safe, father," the girl called back, and began to walk toward the car. "Nothing suspicious, they say, within three hundred miles of here."

  "Fine," Jules said. He opened the car up and all three got out. Jules went on, "I was hoping we were fast enough to get away clean, but I couldn't be sure. Now, sir, about our guests," and be jerked a thumb toward the rear compartment where the prisoners soddenly slept.

  "Ah, yes. I've been wondering about them. The reports were confused and contradictory."

  "I'm not surprised; it happened fast. That one-" Jules pointed-"is probably just a low-bred gunnie that doesn't know a thing. The other one may not know anything or he may know a lot," and he told, in a very few words, about the too imperturbable observer of the brawl. He finished: "So our secret rendezvous was no secret."

  "I see." The Head raised his left wrist to his lips and said, "Colonel Grandon."

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Be on the roof in exactly two minutes. You'll find two men who got number three stunbeams about twenty minutes ago. They're in a Mark Forty-One Service Special near Space Jay Twelve. Revive them, find what they know and report."

  "Very well, sir," and the Head led the way to an elevator. The elevator took them down to the thirty-first floor, where it stopped of itself and opened its door into what was very evidently the private office of an exceedingly important man.

  It was a fairly large room, furnished richly but quietly. The rug, brown in color, was thick and soft. The beamed ceiling was of beautifully grained brown solentawood; the panelled walls were of the same fine, almost metal-hard wood. On the wall behind the big solentawood desk was inlaid the gold-crowned Shield of Empire.

  "Now we can talk," the girl said then, holding out her hand to Jules. "I'm Grand Lady... . Oh, excuse that please!" She flushed hotly, whereupon Jules kissed her hand in true Court style; after which she shook hands cordially with both Jules and Yvette.

  "She should blush, friends," the Head said, but with no reproof in his voice. "But she hasn't been in the Service very long." Turning to the girl, he went on. "You are the Head's Girl Friday here, my dear. Our guests are of the thinnest upper crust of the entire Service; their worth to the Crown is immeasureable-beyond any number of Grand Ladies. We'll sit down, please, and Helena will pour. A whiskey sour for me, if you please." He cocked an eyebrow at his two agents. "Yours?"

  "Orange juice, please," Yvette said, promptly; and Jules said, "Lemonade, please" if you have it handy."

  Drinks in hand-Grand Lady Helena was drinking a weird-looking ice-cream concoction-the Head said:

  "The attack on you was a complete surprise. No leak, no hanky-panky was even suspected until the man who was to bring you to me here was killed. The connection between this business and the matter that brought you to Earth is clear. In that connection it is a highly pleasing thought that the opposition knows nothing of you or of the Circus. You agree?"

  "I agree, sir," Jules said, and Yvette nodded.

  But Helena was puzzled. "How can it follow that they don't know, father?"

  "The d'Alemberts are new to you because there is no record anywhere of any connection between them and us. Except for this surprise attack you would not be learning of them now. I will go into detail after they leave, but for the present I will simply state as a fact that no one who knows anything about them would send only six men against Jules and Yvette d'Alembert. Or, if only six, all six would have fired simultaneously and on sight at them instead of burning the contact man first. That shows that they were more afraid of the Service here than of the supposed Delfian agents-a fatal error."

  "Oh, I see-excuse me, please, for interrupting."

  "That's quite all right. It's part of your education, Girl Friday. To proceed: we are investigating. We will find out where the leak is here and clean up the mess. In the meantime we will go ahead with the business for which we scheduled the Circus of Earth. There's trouble: centering, probably, on Durward. I'll give you all forty-odd reels of the record on it, but there are many things that are not on record and never will be
, which is why I had to discuss it with you in person. You'll also have to talk to some outsiders to get the full picture. You may want to conduct preliminary investigation on Earth and/or elsewhere before you go anywhere near Durward."

  The Head got up. These were his most valuable agents, and the fact that he had brought them here was a measure of the importance he attached to the situation. He had fully expected that there would be trouble waiting for them between the Circus and his office ... and he had been equally confident that the d'Alemberts would be able to handle it.

  What he was less sure of was that they-even they would be able to handle the trouble that lay ahead.

  He said abruptly, "Let's fill in some background. For example, consider the question of loyalty. The Service is loyal to the Crown as the symbol of Empire; to the wearer of the Crown, whoever or whatever he or she may be, as the focal point of the Empire. You agree?"

  "Of course, sir," Jules said, and both girls nodded. "Very well. In early 2378, when Crown Prince Ansel was planning the murder of every other member of the Royal Family, if we could have caught him at it in time we could have burned him down, Crown Prince though he was.,"

  "Why, I ... suppose that . , . yes, sir"" Jules said, and Yvette added thoughtfully.

  "I never thought of it before in just that way, sir. But that's the way it would have to be."

  "Nevertheless, after those eleven murders were accomplished facts Ansel, as the sole surviving member of the House of Stanley, became Emperor Stanley Nine. Was there then any question of gunning him? No. We instantly became as loyal to him as we had been to his father Stanley Eight and now are to his son Stanley Ten."

  "Of course, sir. But what... ."

  "Now comes some off-the-record material. Have you ever heard of Banion the Bastard?"

  Jules thought for a moment. "I don't think so, sir," he said.

  Yvette shook her head, but this time Helena nodded and said, "Oh-oh-a light beginneth to dawn."

  "I didn't think you two had," the Head went on. "Not too many people now alive ever have."

  IV

  Even before Arnold invented the subether drive and made galactic exploration possible, all Earth except the USNA was under Communism and North America was being infiltrated and undermined. The real explosion of mankind into space, however, did not begin until 2013, when Copeland discovered the uranium-rich planet Urania Four; thus assuring all mankind of cheap and virtually unlimited power. In 2016 the American anti-Communists, disgusted and alarmed by the success of the "do-nothings" and "do-gooder" in blocking all effective action, left Earth en masse for Newhope, whereupon Communism took control of all Earth without firing a shot or launching a missile. (Mees, History of Civilization; Vol. 21, p. 1281).

  Banion the Bastard

  Marshalling his thoughts, the Head drank of his whiskey sour slowly, then went on, "Stanley Nine's weakness was women; particularly young ones. Although he married late in 2378, by the end of that year the Empress was merely a part of the furniture and the then Duke of Durward-one Henry, a bachelor of thirty-saw his big chance. He combed his planet to find one highly special woman. She had to be young, a virgin, spectacularly, beautiful, and highly intelligent. Also, as unscrupulous, as vicious, and as hard as he himself was. Also unknown on Earth or at Court. He found her... ."

  The Head paused to finish his drink and build another one.

  "The Beast of Durward," Helena said. "Surely you've heard of her."

  Neither Jules nor Yvette had, and the Head went on, "A small-time ruthlessly ambitious actress. The Duke arranged and financed for her a tremendous and tremendously expensive splash at Grand Imperial Court, right here on Earth. Stanley Nine fell hard. He didn't stand a chance and, with the Duke's full backing, she kept him on the hook much longer than any other woman was ever able to.

  "When she was about seven months pregnant the Duke married her; with Nine's full approval. Thus her son Banion was born in wedlock as the first child of and the heir of the Duke and Duchess of Durward. That, however, wasn't enough for the schemers. Stanley Nine, still blindly infatuated with the extremely talented Beast, issued a Patent of Royalty, admitting paternity and bestowing upon the infant the unique title of 'The Prince of Durward.' This patent also authorized a coat of arms as follows:

  " `Purpure, quarterly three dragons rampant or, in chief sinister a bend sinister or, in dexter... ."'

  "Wait up, father!" Helena broke in. "You're not getting through to me at all, and I don't believe that's our guests' language, either."

  The Head laughed. "Gold dragons, rearing on purple enamel. The bar sinister, which may not be a mark of illegitimacy, in this case definitely was. It goes on that way for a couple of hundred words, only a few of which are pertinent. `Bordure gules, charged thirteen bezants sable.' Poor heraldry-color on color and an unlucky number of spots on a background of blood-but that and the fact that the Patent was dated Friday the Thirteenth of June, 2380, are perfectly in keeping with the Duke's vicious sense of humor.

  "A couple of months later-long overdue-Nine finally got tired of the Beast and came to with a thud. He who had wiped out all the rest of the Royal Family had himself set up a pretender with a completely valid claim. He ordered the Service to kill the Duke and Banion and destroy the Patent; but he was 'way too late. The Beast had seen it coming and they got away clean. With the Patent.

  "The Patent, of course, was most important. It was handwritten and signed in carbon ink by Emperor Stanley Nine himself, on Imperial parchment, with the signature driven into the parchment by the Great Seal of the Empire of Earth. The Patent was revoked, of course, and erased from all record, and the people were proscribed; but that wasn't enough. That Patent had to be found and destroyed; but it wasn't. Banion the Bastard bad to be found and killed; but be wasn't.

  "In 2381 there was a fairly serious uprising; which, it was deduced later, was engineered by the Beast on her own. At least, there was clear evidence that she tried to knife the Duke in bed and he cut her throat with her own blade.

  "The search for that Patent and the Bastard and his blood has been going on ever since 2380; twenty years before I was born. As I said, the record of it covers more than forty reels. Results were neglible-except for finding, at a cost of eighty-nine lives, three very good forgeries - until two years ago, when several leads pointed back to Durward again. We sent agents, who found nothing. Three months ago all those agents stopped reporting. I sent in four of our best-with orders, of course, to avoid all previous contacts-and have not heard from any of them. Hence the Circus; the heaviest artillery the Service has. The threat to Stanley Ten and The Family is grave indeed. Just how grave I myself did not fully realize until the event of last night.

  "Duke Henry was born in 2350, ninety-seven years ago; so he is probably dead. So it may or may not be his children and/or grandchildren who are carrying on. The Bastard, though, at 67, may still be a potent force; and he undoubtedly has children and grandchildren whom we don't know anything about, either.

  "Your job is composed of two equally important parts. One, to find the genuine Patent and to bring it in so we can check its authenticity and so Stanley Ten can destroy it with his own hands. Two, to kill Banion the Bastard and all of his blood. Goodbye and good luck."

  Back at the Circus, well after daybreak. Jules and Yvette reported to their father, the Managing Director. Then they drove out to the edge of the field, snugged their "car" down into its berth in their ultra-fast two-man subspacer, and Jules said:

  "I knew the Head would have to be a Big Wheel, but not that big. If his daughter's a Grand Lady he's got to be a Grand Duke, no less. I think maybe I've seen his picture somewhere or seen him in a parade or something on tridi.... "

  "Oh, brother!" Yvette snorted. "And I use the term advisedly. If 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 the fifth from the Throne itself, is all. You'd better break out your Peerage and start studying it."
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br />   "Uh-huh. What a cover for the Head-my God, be owns Sector Four!"

  They slept until half past two; then went into the main tent to watch the climax of the matinee. They watched, with trained and minutely observant eyes, Yvette and Jules d'Alembert perform flawlessly a heart-stopping variation of the act they themselves had performed the night before.

  Five minutes later, the younger couple still in spangles, the four d'Alemberts sat at a table in the commissary. The two men looked very much alike; so did the two girls which was not surprising, since the two couples were two pairs of twins born of the same parents three years apart. No one except a DesPlainian could have told the two men or the two girls apart except by direct comparison. To the personnel of the Circus of the Galaxy this success of top stars was routine. In the two-hundred-year history of the Circus there had been almost a hundred pairs called 'Jules and Yvette d'Alembert'; there would continue to be a succession of them, one new pair every two or three years, as long as the Circus should endure.

  "How'd we do, Gran'paw?" the younger brother asked. "It must have been a treat to see a good performance of your act."

  "Close the orifice, Jules,' the younger girl broke in. "Oh" you're calling me Jules already?"

  "Certainly. You are Jules now. What I started to say was, that's the way people break their arms, patting themselves on the back so much."

  "Okay. What I meant was. I'm glad the Head pulled them out of the Circus for special duty. It wouldn't be too long before they'd spatter themselves all over the ring the way their joints are creaking now. How about that, Jules?" and Jules grinned at Jules.

  "That is very true and very sad, Jules," Jules agreed, as a waitress came up to take their orders. "These ancient and unwieldly bones are just about ready for the fertilizer mill. The old-time pep is all shot... ."