Chapter 6

Helena Joins the Circus

Following his orders, Captain Fortier gave the von Wilmenhorsts a thorough briefing of

his investigation and the conclusions that had been reached. Grand Duke Zander listened

thoughtfully, occasionally interjecting a question to clarify a point in his mind. Fortier was

uncomfortable in this role. He did not, of course, know that Zander von Wilmenhorst was

the Head of SOTE. As far as he was concerned, the Empress had commanded him to

give this explanation purely as a matter of courtesy to a nobleman of the second-highest

rank in the Empire. With the evidence as convincing as it was, he also felt he was letting

a powerful enemy know the details of the case against him, and he did not like that. He

was duty-bound, though, to carry out the Imperial instructions.

The Grand Duke was silent for several minutes after Fortier finished the briefing. He

leaned back in his chair and peered intently at a point on the floor several meters away.

His mind appeared to be on another level of existence altogether, totally separate from

the material universe. A hush fell over the room; Fortier knew instinctively-as Helena had

learned from long experience-not to interrupt the Grand Duke when he was in a

thoughtful reverie.

At last Zander von Wilmenhorst returned to the here-and-now. "Excuse me for being so

distant, Captain. You've told me a fascinating tale, and the implications are truly

staggering. I agree that, under the circumstances, Her Majesty had no other choice but

to put my daughter and me under arrest. There are ramifications to this problem that

even you don't comprehend yet, and I'm afraid I don't have the authority to enlighten you.

You've done your job well, and I respect you for that."

Fortier fidgeted. According to everything he knew, the man across the room from him

was the worst traitor in the Galaxy, and yet this enemy was praising him on his work. It

was an uncomfortable situation, and he was leery of a trap.

"I know your orders are to hold Helena and me incommunicado," the Grand Duke

continued. "I presume that means with respect to the rest of the Empire. Is there

anything in your orders forbidding me from speaking privately with my daughter?"

Fortier reviewed the commands he'd been given, and had to admit there was nothing in

them to prevent such communication. He'd been specifically told to treat the prisoners

with the courtesy and consideration due their rank, and it seemed only fair to him that, in

such time of crisis, father and daughter would want some time by themselves.

"Your privacy will certainly be respected until I have occasion to consider it a threat to

the Empire," he said. Von Wilmenhorst nodded. "Fair enough, Captain. Could you and

your people please withdraw and give us a couple of minutes alone? I assure you there's

only that one door to this room, and there are no communications facilities in here."

Fortier had already scanned the room and knew that to be the truth. With a respectful

bow, he and his escort left the room and closed the doors behind them as they went.

Fortier posted guards on either side of the doors, with orders to notify him immediately if

anything suspicious happened, then went off to report to Luna Base about the success of

his mission.

Alone for the first time since their arrest, father and daughter exchanged worried

glances. "It seems we've once again underestimated Lady A," the Head said. "We

thought she was merely out to discredit our top agents; we didn't even think of our own

vulnerability. By discrediting us, she brings into question everything SOTE's ever done

since I've been in charge. Poor Edna won't know which way to turn."

"I don't know how she can believe such a lie," Helena said.

"She can't afford to believe otherwise," her father said quietly. "She's bent over

backwards to be fair to us; we've gotten more consideration from her than anyone else

would have a right to expect. She knows in her heart we're innocent, but an Empress

who rules only by her heart will not be a monarch very long. She'll need hard evidence to

back up what she knows.

"No, Edna's actions are not what disturb me about this affair. I have faith in her to do the

right thing. What really bothers me is the fact that I could have had a robot traitor like

Herman Stanck working as my chief assistant, governing the sector all these years, and

not even realized it. I'd have sworn he was a good and honest man. It's enough to make

me doubt my faith in human nature."

"It might explain something, though," Helena mused.

"The conspiracy seems to know almost everything we do, and we've never been able to

trace the leaks. Maybe Herman. . . .

The Grand Duke shook his head.. "No, I thought of that and discarded it. Herman's entire

responsibility was to run Sector Four on my behalf. He knew nothing about my

involvement with the Service--0r, at least, I never told him anything. All he knew was that

I spent most of my time at the court on Earth. Nothing unusual about that, most of the

Grand Dukes do. Herman wouldn't have had access to even a small fraction of the

information the conspiracy knows. We'll have to look elsewhere for those damnable

leaks."

"And what about the subcom unit built into your security council chamber? I don't ever

remember that being there. And all those files in your computer. . . ."

"We haven't been back home since just after Edna's coronation," the Head sighed.

"Herman had free access to that room, and he's had months of uninterrupted time to

install the subcom. Since he also had access to my computer records, he could just as

easily have inserted all sorts of false, incriminating documents. There are safeguards to

prevent any unauthorized information from being deleted, but it's a simple matter to insert

new data into the files. I just can't get over the fact of it being Herman. I thought I knew

him so well. . . .

Helena sat up. "Maybe you did. When Fortier checked Herman's records, they showed

he'd never been sick in all the time he'd been Sector Marshal. But I remember he had a

lung infection a couple of years ago. I brought him flowers in the hospital. If the

conspiracy can put phony data into your computer. . . . "

Her father nodded, a gleam in his eyes. "Yes, they can also put phony data into the

personnel computer. Herman Stanck may indeed have been the trusted friend and advi-

sor I thought he was until very recently, when they replaced him with a robot and

doctored his records. In a way, I feel greatly relieved; perhaps I'm not such a bad judge

of character after all. Of course, I feel dreadful about Herman; the conspiracy kills the

people it replaces, and the only thing he ever did to earn a death sentence was pick the

wrong man to work for. . . .

The air hung heavy with the silence of regret. After a few moments von Wilmenhorst

began speaking softly, almost to himself. "Yes, I can see how they managed to do it.

They needed a brilliant and totally incorruptible man like our Captain Fortier. As with

Gastonia, they had to make the case hard enough to seem as though it was not being

handed over, and yet he was guided every step of the way.

"They knew he was watching Guitirrez, so they threw Helmund in his path, knowing he

would eventually trace her back to Durward. They planted clues there leading him to

Herman and me. They replaced Herman with a robot and altered his personnel records

enough to make Fortier suspicious. The robot Herman planted false documentation in my

computer and installed the new equipment in that room. He led Fortier there, displayed

the proper information on the screen, and then allowed himself to be conveniently

destroyed, leaving the blame on me."

The Head smiled. "Subtle and insidious, the signature of our enemy. A brilliant piece of

work."

"The question is," Helena said impatiently, "what are we going to do now? All of SOTE is

in jeopardy, and the Service may be the only thing standing between the Empire and its

destruction. We've got to do something to clear our names!"

Her father spread his hands in a gesture of resignation. "There's little we can do, I'm

afraid. If we were permitted even one call out, I'd contact Etienne and ask the Circus to

check out these charges; if ever their credibility is tarnished, we might as well curl up and

die. But as it is, all we can do is sit and wait and trust in Edna to do the right thing."

Helena was staring at her father. "You intend to just give in to this? Like a lamb being

meekly led to the slaughter, without a fight?"

"I cannot and will not fight my Empress, nor disobey her orders. If I did, it would only

substantiate the charges against me. The conspiracy has thought this one out very

carefully, and we'll have to walk a thin line for the time being."

"We wouldn't be fighting her, we'd be fighting the conspiracy. And we wouldn't be

disobeying her orders because she never gave us any. She gave Fortier orders to hold

us prisoner, but she never gave any commands to us. My oath of loyalty to her includes

seeking out and destroying her enemies. That's what I want to do."

The Head smiled. "That's a pretty flimsy rationalization, my dear. And I don't want you

running off to do anything on your own, either. You remember what happened on

Sanctuary, and this time I'm in no position to send someone to rescue you."

Helena blushed at the reference to her one attempt to engage in field work for the

Service. She thought she'd been infiltrating a criminal organization, while actually she had

touched on the fringes of Lady A's conspiracy. She'd gotten soon in over her head, and

her father had had to send the d'Alemberts to get her out. Much was accomplished in the

process and they learned of Lady A's existence for the first time, but Helena still was not

proud of her failure on that case. Since then she had stuck dutifully to office work, leaving

the dangerous field assignments to better qualified agents.

She said nothing further as she got up and walked out of the room. Behind her, Zander

von Wilmenhorst watched her leave, a thoughtful and unreadable expression etched on

his _features.

Helena was escorted to her own cabin by a young naval officer assigned to guard her.

The officer remained stationed outside her door, allowing Helena the privacy and time

she needed to think. She remained in her cabin for the rest of the day, having her meals

sent in, while she put her plans in order.

She could understand her father's reluctance to act contrary to the Empress' wishes.

He'd lived his entire life devoted to the Service code of strict obedience and loyalty to the

monarch, and had brought her up according to those same principles. The sole difference

was in interpretation. Her father was a man who believed in patience and gentle,

constructive actions behind the scenes. Zander von Wilmenhorst was a man who

preferred to watch events develop, acting only when necessary and trusting to the

rashness of his opponents to make mistakes.

Helena, on the other hand, was still young enough to feel impatience with time's slow

progress. She wanted things to happen now, and if they didn't proceed of their own

accord, she was willing to push them a little.

It was all very well, she reasoned, for her father to sit calmly and hope for the best.

Helena had grown up with Edna and she, too, trusted the Empress. But it was foolhardy

to suppose that the conspiracy, having incapacitated the Service and thrown doubt on

everything it had done, would be content to do nothing else. As Helena saw it, 'each day

she and her father were out of commission was another day the conspiracy would use to

build its own power.

She did not argue the matter with her father. She could recognize the finality in his voice,

and knew that further discussion would be useless. He Would not make a move counter

to Edna's orders, not even to save his own life. But Helena had to do something. From

what Fortier had said, there was not a shred of evidence against her; she was only under

suspicion for being her father's daughter. Perhaps Edna wouldn't think it too base of her

if she ran away and tried to make some sense of this confusion. If Helena could find the

truth and prove her father's and her own innocence, Edna would certainly pardon any

breaches Helena made in strict observance of the Imperial commands.

She spent several hours mulling over her plan, polishing its rough edges as her father had

taught her, and honing it to perfection. When her idea was well in shape, she lay back on

her bed and tried to sleep for several hours. Sleep came but fitfully; she was too keyed

up by the prospects of what she had to do, and true rest was impossible. After a few

hours she gave up on it entirely. She changed into her favorite brown and peach-colored

jumpsuit, knowing it would be sturdier for traveling. Then, gathering up her jewelry,

money, and the few other possessions she thought she'd need, she put her plan into

action.

Even though there was no true "night" and "day" in space, most private ships operated on

specific cycles. "Day" was when most of the three hundred people aboard this ship were

active, and certain functions had to be performed. "Night" was when most of the crew

were sleeping, and only a few crewmen and women performed maintenance duties. It

was the middle of the ship's "night" when Helena started out, ensuring the minimal

opposition. As she stepped from her doorway fully clothed, the guard outside snapped to

attention, hand resting close to her stun-gun.

Trying to put the guard at ease, Helena told her, "I've been thinking about this accusation

of treason against my father, and I think I can prove he's innocent. I've got to talk with

Captain Fortier. Where is he?"

"I believe he's asleep right now," the guard said with some hesitation. "Can it wait until

morning?"

"I'm afraid not." Helena shook her head. "Each passing second increases the danger to

the Empire. I can't even trust it over the ship's intercom. I have to speak to him in person.

"

"I'll have to accompany you," the other woman said. "Of course. Where's he staying?"

"Cabin 36, Deck E."

"Fine. I know a shortcut. It'll save us going down a lot of corridors and waking people

up."

The guard hesitated. This was not a situation specifically covered in her orders, but it did

sound important. After a moment's indecision, she nodded and motioned for Helena to

lead the way. She kept her hand near the butt of her stunner, but did not draw the

weapon. The prisoner had shown no indication of hostility, and her orders were to show

courtesy and use minimum force.

Helena started off at a brisk pace, and the guard had to move quickly to keep up with

her. As Helena had hoped, the corridors were deserted at this time in the ship's cycle.

Helena led her escort on a fast tour of the emptier parts of the ship, all the while keeping

up a pleasant, innocuous conversation indicating she was resigned to her captivity. The

officer was a little out of breath and just enough off guard by the time they reached the

spot Helena had chosen to make her move.

There was one place where, due to a design problem, the hallway made a slight S-bend.

As she reached it, Helena turned and abruptly slowed her rapid pace. The officer, who'd

been walking quickly to keep up, did not slow quite as fast and almost bumped right into

Helena.

Helena gave a slight laugh and said, "Excuse me," then reached out as though to steady

the officer.

In a quick gesture, she pushed the other woman hard against the bulkhead and snatched

at the stun-gun in her holster. The officer, realizing belatedly that she'd been tricked, tried

to grab Helena by the collar, but the SOTE woman ducked under the outstretched hand

and pulled the stunner free. Before the guard had a chance to do more than utter a

startled cry, Helena had shot her with the weapon and the woman sagged to the deck.

Helena checked the setting on the stunner and saw, much to her relief, that it was set on

three-a half-hour stun. The guard would wake up in a short while greatly embarrassed,

but otherwise none the worse for her failure. Helena had been worried that the stun-gun

might be set so high as to cause real damage-but the orders to use minimum force were

being carried out accurately. Helena did not want to harm anyone on her own side who

just happened to be in the awkward position between her and her freedom.

She looked around, but there appeared to be no one who'd heard the brief cry; this part

of the ship should be well deserted at this hour, which was one reason Helena had

chosen it. Another reason was that it was near the emergency escape boats that were

her next destination.

As the private space yacht of a Grand Duke, the Anna Libeling would naturally have

been an impressive craft. But with its owner also being the Head of the Service of the

Empire, it was equipped very well indeed. Not only could it hold its own in a military

battle, but its emergency craft had subspace capabilities, a rare commodity. The boats

were not the fastest in the Empire, perhaps-but with a little luck and a good head start,

Helena felt sure she could outrace anything Fortier currently had available to

him. By the time he could call up anything faster, she hoped to be off his screens and too

far gone to catch. She slid like a ghost through the silent halls, stun-gun at the ready,

alert for the slightest sign of trouble. She encountered no one until just before she

reached the emergency airlocks, where Fortier had stationed a couple of his men.

Helena stunned them both before they had a chance to draw their own weapons, then

moved to the bank of lockers beside the pressure doors. She was never more glad that

her father had ordered a spacesuit specifically tailored to everyone who normally

traveled aboard this ship.

" All shuttle craft that went to and from the Anna Libeling docked in a hangar open to the

vacuum of space. Normally, boarding tubes snaked out to connect up with the airlocks of

the ships, allowing visitors to come aboard without having to don the cumbersome

spacesuits. But sending out a boarding tube was a function controlled from the Anna

Libeling's bridge, and under the circumstances Helena could not afford to be that formal.

Instead, she would have to put on her own spacesuit and go out the airlock, then board

the emergency craft in a manual mode. Even this was a calculated risk, for the opening

of the emergency airlock would cause a light to flash on the control board. The

emergency hatch had a manual operating mode and could not be overridden from the

bridge, which was a point in her favor; but once she started the process, a clock would

be ticking for her. Everything then would depend on how quickly the alarm was noticed

and how decisively her captors acted on it. She was hoping there would at least be a

few minutes of initial confusion, giving her time to get through the hatch, enter one of the

lifeboats, and blast out of the Anna Libeling before anyone really knew what was

happening. She donned the suit carefully, checking all the joints and seals as she'd been

trained to do. Then, after staring at the doorway for a few nervous seconds and offering

up a silent prayer, she pressed the emergency exit plate beside the hatch.

The portal slid aside quickly with a clang Helena could hear even through her helmet.

Stepping inside, she pressed the inner plate to close the hatch again and open the outer

chamber door. Normally this would have been a slow process, with the outer door not

opening until all the air had been pumped out of the lock; but the emergency airlock had

been designed for quick use, and the small amount of air that would be lost to space was

considered trivial when people needed to get out of the ship in - a hurry.

As the outer door opened, Helena rushed toward the nearest escape boat. She had to

assume the emergency light had been seen on the bridge the instant she opened the

hatch, and that steps would be taken instantly to recapture her. She had few seconds to

spare.

The emergency boats of the Anna Libeling were always kept in prime condition, and the

one she'd chosen responded instantly to her command. Without even bothering to

remove her helmet, Helena slipped into the pilot's seat and brought the control console to

life with a quick flip of the necessary switches. The engines charged up and, with a

sudden acceleration that shoved her hard against her couch, the boat shot out of its

berth and into the blackness of space.

The Anna Libeling was surrounded by a swarm of small craft like fireflies. the escort

Captain Fortier had brought with him to ensure there'd be no trouble. As Helena's craft

zoomed from the big ship's hangar, her radio crackled to life with a challenge to halt.

Helena ignored the request, which quickly turned into a cold, hard order. She flew at

three-quarters speed, hoping the Navy ships would be tricked into thinking that was as

fast as she could go.

A warning shot blazed across her path, but Helena flew straight on. She made no

attempt to dodge or weave her way through a field of fire; any motion other than straight

forward would only slow her down. She had to trust to the accuracy of the naval gunners,

and to the fact that they'd been ordered to use minimal force to capture and hold her.

They'd be reluctant to simply blow her out of the sky, and would try to disable her

instead.

The screens showed that four ships had left their positions around the Anna Libeling and

had come in pursuit. They were gunboats of the malyenki class-not much firepower, but

plenty of speed and maneuverability. Helena's boat probably had as much armament as

they did, but she didn't want a fight.

She'd had perhaps a thirty-second head start, but the gunboats were slowly gaining on

her. Helena watched them carefully on her screen, judging their distance and speed in

relation to hers, and suddenly boosted her own vessel to maximum acceleration. On the

screen, the images of the Navy ships seemed to jump backwards to the limit of detection

range. At almost the same instant, Helena, hoping to catch her pursuers unaware, had

her craft make the jump into subspace.

The trick worked to perfection. The gunboats, confident they could outrun the fugitive,

were unprepared for its sudden burst of acceleration. Their commanders were just

making the adjustments for the new speed when the vessel disappeared into

subspace-something ordinary life craft were incapable of. By the time they could adjust

to this second surprise and switch into subspace themselves, Helena's boat was totally

off their screens. They split up and fanned out in different directions for a short while,

hoping to pick up some trace of her, but they were out of luck.

Red-faced, the officers returned to their positions around the Anna Libeling, wondering

how to explain to Captain Fortier that a small emergency craft had outraced and

outmaneuvered four Imperial gunboats.

Helena managed to elude capture by staying in subspace for only about ten seconds,

then dropping into normal space again and killing all acceleration completely. Ten

seconds in subspace let her travel far enough to be out of range of normal detection

systems; her boat would appear merely as a floating piece of space rock to any casual

observer. And by dropping out of subspace before the Navy. vessels could enter it, their

subspace detectors would not spot her, either.

She spent a tense three hours watching her own screens nervously, in case Fortier

caught on to her trick. When at last she was convinced she'd gotten away undetected,

she began cruising-at slow, deliberate speed-back toward the planet Preis. The Navy

would send out warnings to all planets for a large radius around, but she hoped they

would be a little less alert within the system she had supposedly escaped from.

Even so, she was careful not to land at a spaceport. She brought her lifeboat down well

away from any populated centers and spent two days walking back into the nearest

town. With the money she had at hand, she bought a tube ticket to the capital city of

Aachen. Two days of walking through semi-wilderness had left her face tanned and

weatherworn enough to be unrecognizable to the people who normally knew her as the

heir to this sector. A few subtle makeup tricks she'd learned at the Service Academy

completed the job.

In Aachen she sold some of the jewelry she'd brought with her. She hated to part with

some of her favorite pieces, but the situation was desperate. The money she got for the

jewelry was enough to buy her some more clothes and a spaceliner ticket to the planet

Evanoe, where the Circus of the Galaxy was currently performing.

The Circus of the Galaxy was one of the prime entertainment events throughout the

Empire, a show offering more live thrills and excitement than even the wildest sensible

adventure could match. More than that, though, the Circus was one of the primary

weapons in SOTE's formidable arsenal because it was the personal business of the

d'Alembert family. All of its performers, all of its staff-nearly a thousand people-were

members of that impressive clan from high-gravity DesPlaines. The d'Alemberts were

noted for both their incredible talents and their fierce dedication to the Imperial Throne.

Whenever there was a difficult and sensitive task, the Service naturally turned to the

d'Alemberts to perform it. Now, in her moment of greatest need, Helena also wanted to

call on the Circus.

The flight from Preis to Evanoe took a full week. Helena fretted the whole time. She

knew that both the Service and the Navy would be looking for her, and that all sorts of

things might be happening in the silent, secret war between the Empire and the

conspiracy. Aboard a liner in subspace she was perfectly safe from outside intrusion, but

at the same time she was effectively out of touch with any developments that might

occur. As her father's chief aide, she'd spent the last few years being in constant contact

with developments all over the Galaxy; now she was suddenly cut off from all news, and

the silence was deafening.

She wasted no time upon landing, but took a tube train straight to the area where the

Circus had set up its camp. It was late at night when she arrived, long after the last

performance of the day. All the customers had gone, the midway was shutting down, the

normally hectic atmosphere was subdued. The smell of strange animals mingled oddly

with the odors of foods from a thousand different worlds. Helena slipped quietly onto the

grounds and, trying not to let anyone see her, made her way to the main office.

Because the Circus was traveling most of the time, its personnel tried to make their

surroundings as homey as possible. The main office was thickly carpeted in turquoise

blue and the walls were paneled in richly-grained solentawood. Three sides of the room

were lined with bookshelves. Antique books were both a hobby and an obsession with

Duke Etienne, who insisted that bookreels just didn't feel right. Some of the volumes in

his collection were more than five hundred years old.

Etienne d'Alembert, Duke of DesPlaines and Managing Director of the Circus of the

Galaxy, was sitting behind his new bronze burlwood desk, and looked up as Helena

entered. The duke was a short, somewhat portly man of about fifty, his hair graying at

the temples and thinning in front-but his innocuous appearance disguised a person of

incredible power and ability. Rumor was that Etienne was the only man who'd ever beat

Helena's father at chess; he'd been as close to Helena as any uncle, even though they

seldom actually saw one another.

"The perimeter guards spotted you and let me know you were coming," he said quietly.

His eyes were filled with sadness as he looked at her now. "I turned off the ultragrav in

here so you'd be comfortable. I wish I could say this visit was a surprise."

Helena nodded. "They told you, I suppose, that I might try to contact you."

"Yes. I have orders from Edna herself to take you into custody if you showed up here."

Helena's entire body was trembling; she was very close to tears. "Please, Etienne," she

said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "My father and I need you."

The Duke's left hand clenched, and he stared silently at the woman before him for almost

a minute before he replied. "You haven't heard, then?"

"Heard what?" Helena could scarcely choke the words out of her mouth, it was so dry

with horrible premonition. "Oh, my poor girl. Your father was executed two days ago on

a charge of treason."