Revelation

The killers impersonating Agents Wombat and Periwinkle carried the unconscious bodies

of Jules and Yvonne d'Alembert to their waiting copier, where their confederates helped

them stow the SOTE agents away in the back cargo section. The DesPlainians had been

given a number four stun, and would be unconscious for at least two hours, which would

give the killers plenty of time to take them to more secure quarters.

Several kilometers away, Pias and Yvette were monitoring events as they happened.

Knowing they'd be walking into a trap and assuming they'd be captured, Jules and

Vonnie had planted microtransmitters on their clothes and bodies. These devices enabled

the Bavols to follow the action-at least what could be heard of it from a safe distance,

and to trail after the killers without coming close enough to be spotted themselves. "We

want to make sure we get the whole gang at once," Jules had said. "With Vonnie and me

as bait on the hook, we'll give them a little play on the line before reeling them in.

Yvette was not happy with the thought of standing idly by and listening to her brother and

sister-in-law be captured by the enemy-but, like her brother, she wanted to grab the

whole gang in one sweep. If they acted too quickly, some might escape to spread the

warning further up the network. This move had obviously been planned by someone

higher up within the conspiracy; a little patience might lead them to big game indeed.

The Bavols listened to the confused mixture of sounds that were the obvious indications

of a battle in progress. The buzzing sound of stun-guns was ominous, because neither

Jules nor Yvonne had carried stunners into the battle. The silence that followed made it

only too clear that the enemy had gained the upper hand. Even though this was part of

their long-term plan, Yvette's fists were clenched in quiet anger.

As the killers' copier left the clearing, the Bavols' vehicle rose into the air and followed.

The signals broadcast by the microtransmitters were strong enough for the agents to

stay far behind their prey, out of both visual and normal detector range. The two copiers

flew at a steady, casual pace toward the nearest domed city, Constantia.

The enemy copier landed on the rooftop parking lot of an apartment building. The Bavols

made a note of the site and flew on to a nearby perch. They listened and waited. That

was the hard part-the waiting.

Within the target building, the enemy agents had rented an entire floor for themselves.

After searching their captives for weapons-but missing the transmitters, which looked like

ordinary buttons-they handcuffed the d'Alemberts' hands behind their backs and went

about their normal business until the two superagents recovered from the stun they'd

received.

After a while, Jules started coming around. Reality weaved in and out of focus for him

and his surroundings gradually became more distinct. When he could recall what had

happened, he looked around him. He was in a bedroom, but his body had been dumped

on the floor. Vonnie lay on the floor across the room from him, still unconscious;

stun-guns had slightly differing effects on different people's nervous systems, and Vonnie

was apparently more susceptible. Jules was not going to worry about her yet.

As Jules looked around further, he could see someone sitting on the bed watching him:

the woman who'd come out of the copier. She eyed him coolly for a moment, then called

into the next room, "The man's come to."

A man came into the room--not the one Jules had seen in the clearing. This must have

been one of the people waiting in the copier to complete the ambush. It scarcely

mattered; this man looked every bit as competent as the one Jules had seen.

The man knelt beside Jules and checked for any residual traces of shock from the

stunner. When he was satisfied Jules was all right, he turned to the woman and said,

"Call the battle station. I think he's ready to talk now."

The woman went into another room and Jules, by straining, could just make out the

sounds of a subetheric communicator being adjusted. There was a muffled dialog he

couldn't quite hear, and then the woman returned. "She's ready for him."

The man grabbed Jules roughly by the shirtfront and pulled him to his feet. "In there,

Wombat," he sneered, giving Jules a hard shove in the general direction of the adjoining

room. Jules's legs were still a little wobbly from the after-effects of the stun. He

staggered a bit, provoking laughs from the two killers.

"Some superagent," the woman taunted. "He can't even walk straight."

With monumental effort, Jules fought to recover his balance and walked with dignity

through the doorway into the next room. His action did not stop the jeering of the traitors,

but it at least satisfied his own sense of honor. Another woman he hadn't seen was

standing beside a portable subcom set. In the set's triscreen was the three-dimensional

image of someone Jules had seen and worked against before: Tanya Boros, erstwhile

Duchess of Swingleton and daughter of Banian the Bastard.

She obviously recognized him, too, because her eyes narrowed slightly and her face took

on a colder expression. "Well, well," she said. "Who are you supposed to be this month?

Shall I call you duClos or Brecht?"

"I think today I'll be Rene Descartes," Jules retorted. His tongue felt thick and heavy as

an aftereffect of the stun, and it slurred his speech a little more than he'd have liked. He

hated showing any weakness in front of this proud, beautiful woman.

Boros did not like his impudent answer. Rage flashed momentarily across her face. Her

temper was always her weak point, Jules knew, but now she was making some effort to

moderate it. After a brief struggle she returned her expression to one of bland

superiority. "I think I'll just call you Wombat for now," she said. "From what I've been told

it's a rather ugly, awkward animal-quite fitting for someone like you."

"Is that why you tried to seduce me several years ago?" Boros refused to be baited. "I

was bored and looking for new perversions. Believe me, you'll never get an offer that

generous again in your lifetime. And if you want that lifetime extended to any degree,

you'll cooperate and answer a few questions."

"I never deal with the hired help."

"Oh, you can ignore those people holding you prisoner. I'll do the interrogation."

"That's just who I meant. You're not important enough for me to deal with. Lady A's

running this show, so she can question me herself."

Once again he'd touched off a spark of anger in the young woman. "Do you think she has

time to drop everything for a kulyak like you? I'm in charge of this operation, and you'll do

what I tell you. I'm going to get information out of you. I can get it painfully or pleasantly,

the choice is entirely your own."

"How can I respect someone who won't even face me in person?"

"Why should I take the risk? I'm safe in my battle station. You've never told me the truth

when we've met in person before, so I have nothing to lose by remaining where I am. My

surrogates there will administer all the persuasion you require; my only regret is that I

won't be able to do to you myself what needs to be done. They'll call me back when

you're loosened up a bit." Her image reached out to touch an unseen control, and the

screen went blank.

Jules had gotten far more information than he'd given in that conversation. He now knew

the extent of this impersonation scheme: Tanya Boros in charge and these four

blasterbats carrying out her instructions. A small but efficient operation. Boros herself

was safely ensconced in something she called a battle station, and was not about to be

lured out of it. He had accomplished all that could be accomplished from this position. It

was now time to get himself and Vonnie rescued.

The woman beside the subcom set had a truncheon in her hand and was slapping it

gently against her other palm. She eyed Jules with a sadistic gleam. "We drew lots to

see who'd question you first," she said. "I won."

"Surely there must be some alternative," Jules said.

"You could tell me all about yourself. If I believe you, I might go easy."

"Khorosho. I was born in a little log cabin. My parents died when I was three, and I was

raised in the wild by a pack of wolves. . . ."

Wham! The truncheon hit him in the diaphragm, and Jules doubled over, gasping for

breath. "One thing you'll find," the woman said, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him

to look directly into her face, "is that my friends and I have strange senses of humor.

Instead of laughing when we hear a joke, our reaction is to inflict pain. The funnier the

joke, the more pain we give."

"Remind me, then, not to tell you the one about the spaceman's daughter and the model

rocket builder," Jules gasped.

This time the woman used the weapon to jab Jules hard in the kidneys. The DesPlainian

doubled over in pain, and another sharp blow to his back made him fall to his knees. As

he regained his breath he tilted his head to look up at the woman standing over him. "I

guess you must have heard that one before."

There followed a series of blows beyond counting. Jules's body was bloody and battered

by the time the woman was finished. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth, and

he could not have done much talking even if he'd wanted to. The woman realized this,

too, for she snarled at him as she pushed him back into the bedroom; her fun was over

for a while. She looked at Vonnie, but the female agent was still unconscious from the

stun-gun beam, so Jules and his wife were left alone in their little room.

Jules gave some thought to the conditions of his bondage. Though his wrists were

handcuffed firmly behind him, there was a little bit of play between the two bracelets. His

second cousin Alphonse, the contortionist, had taught him some of the secrets of that

trade--enough so that, with some squirming about on the floor, Jules was able to work

his bound arms down below his buttocks, along his legs, and past his feet. His arms

were still handcuffed, but now his hands were in front of him, giving him far more

freedom of movement. His Uncle Marcel, the Circus' magician, could have gotten out of

the handcuffs altogether-probably by using a picklock hidden somewhere on his body-but

Jules had never learned that stunt. This amount of freedom would have to do for now.

He was more concerned about Vonnie. His wife was still showing no sign of coming out

of the stun, and that was a bit alarming. She'd been shot by a different gun than the one

that had hit him; could it have been adjusted to a different setting, one that had a longer

or-he hated to consider the possibility-a permanent effect? The killers wouldn't have

brought her here if she'd been dead, but a setting of eight or nine would have her

unconscious for days and perhaps leave permanent paralysis when the charge wore off.

That was too horrifying to even consider, so he turned his thoughts to more immediate

matters.

Things should be happening very shortly, he knew. He and the Bavols had established

the word "alternative" as a code phrase indicating they were to come in and rescue the

captives. He had no doubt that his sister and brother-in-law were monitoring the

conversations, and they would have set out the instant they heard him say that word to

the woman questioning him. That had been ten or fifteen minutes ago; they were

probably scouting this hideout for the best entrance. They'd be here very shortly and,

despite the pain from his beating, he wanted to be in as good a position as possible to

help them out.

Jules's assumptions were correct. The moment Yvette and Pias heard him say to his

interrogator, "Surely there must be some alternative," they went into action. That

signal meant Jules had decided he'd gotten all he could from the situation; now it was up

to them to disentangle him from it.

According to the directional antenna on their receiver, Jules and Yvonne were being held

captive on the fourth floor down from the top in the apartment building. It took the Bavols

just a few minutes to fly their own copter to the landing pad on the roof, after which they

had to spend some time surveying the situation.

An elevator tube led down from the roof into the building. The door to the tube was

locked-probably only residents were given keys-but that was no problem to someone

with Yvette's skills at burglary. She had the door open in under a minute. It was the

elevator tube itself that offered unexpected difficulties.

"The plates won't even stop on the floor we want unless we've got a special access

number," she explained to Pias after examining the setup. "And the doors won't open at

that level without the plate stopping there."

"There must be some other way in, then," her husband said. "We've got enough line with

us; we could lower ourselves over the roof and swing down into that level through the

windows."

Yvette shook her head. "We can do it that way if there's no other choice, but I don't want

to be that blatant. The crashing of glass would alert everyone in the building, and the

police might get involved. Let's see if we can figure out something else."

After looking down the elevator tube for a little while longer, they came up with a

workable plan. There was a series of handholds down the sides of the tube, giving ready

access to maintenance personnel. They climbed down the dusty rungs into the darkness

of the tube until they reached the doors that opened onto the level where the impostors

were holding Jules and Yvonne. Now the only problem was to get the doors open.

Whatever method was used, it would have to be quick. The killers knew that no one but

them should have the access numbers for this level. If anyone else came out of the

elevator tube, they'd shoot first and ask questions later.

There was a small nodule of electrical connections beside the doorway. Yvette studied

the configuration for a moment, then reached down to a compartment in her belt and

took out a wad of explosive. After rubbing it between thumb and forefinger for a moment

to bring it to body temperature, she stuck it onto the connections and attached a short

fuse. She and Pias drew their stun-guns and braced themselves as best they could in

their awkward footholds against the naked wall of the elevator tube.

The fuse sputtered, and there was a small puff as Yvette's charge blew the doors'

controlling circuits. The doors slid quickly into the wall and the two agents clambered

awkwardly through the opening. For an instant they were easy targets.

Their attack caught the killers completely off guard. Boros's minions, expecting no

trouble, did not have their guns at their sides, and were not prepared to fight back

against the Bavols' furious invading force. The SOTE team need not have worried; with

their reflexes and weapons already drawn, the battle was over in a matter of seconds.

The sound of action brought Jules stumbling out of the back bedroom just as Pias and

Yvette were finishing their work. Yvette was horrified to see how badly her brother had

been beaten, but Jules quickly reassured her. "I'm smooth. Just get these off me." He

held up his hands to indicate the cuffs that bound his wrists.

They searched through the killers' pockets until they found the key and freed Jules. Then,

while Pias took care of securing the prisoners before they woke up, Yvette went into the

back room with Jules to tend to Vonnie.

She was just starting to come around as they entered the room, and Jules was

immeasurably relieved. He cradled his wife while Yvette unlocked the manacles, and

Vonnie slowly regained her strength. She could see from the fact that Yvette was also

there-that the rescue operation had already been accomplished. "Looks like I missed the

fun," she said weakly. Then, seeing Jules's bloody face, she said, "Are you all right, mon

cher?"

"Smooth," Jules assured her. "I've had massages rougher than that. I'm more worried

about you; you took far too long coming out of stun."

"Different people come out at different speeds," Vonnie said.

"But you've been stunned before and it's never taken you this long to come out of it."

Vonnie and Yvette exchanged knowing glances, and Vonnie looked away, embarrassed.

It was up to Yvette to give the explanation. "She's never been pregnant before, either. "

"Pregnant!" For a moment, Jules felt almost as though he'd been hit by another

stun-beam. His face broadened in a silly, toothy grin. "How long ... oh, darling! Why didn't

you tell me before?"

"I just found out the day you and Pias went on that training flight through the asteroids,"

Vonnie answered sheepishly. "I was going to tell you that night, but then the Head called

and it didn't seem like the right time."

Jules's face grew serious again as a dark thought crossed his mind. "You should never

have come on this assignment," he said accusingly. "It's far too dangerous."

"Don't go protectionist on me all of a sudden," Vonnie said. "It was far more dangerous

on Gastonia or Slag than it is here. You didn't worry about me then. I can still take care

of myself."

"But it's not just you I'm worried about; there's also the baby to consider. Sure, you can

still take on an army of blasterbats, but what if an accident happens? You just suffered a

stun-gun charge. How will that affect the baby? How do we know it won't happen again,

or worse? We've got to think about the future now and take a few precautions. "

"I can handle myself," Vonnie insisted.

Yevette felt it was time for her to speak up. "Jules is right, Vonnie," she said soothingly.

"You have as much responsibility towards seeing that there's a new generation of

d'Alemberts as you do towards solving this particular case. Jules and Pias and I can

handle this job without you, but you're the only one who can have that baby."

"But I'll feel so useless knowing you're all risking your lives and I'm doing nothing."

"You won't be idle," Jules assured her. "We've got four prisoners. I don't think we should

turn them over to the police just yet; that would alert the conspiracy that we've captured

their people and we might lose our connection with Tanya Boros." Jules went on to

explain to his wife what had happened since their capture, including the fact that his old

nemesis was in charge of this operation.

"If Boros knows we've captured her mokoes," -he concluded, "she might decide to go

back to her headquarters. Until we can pry her out of this `battle station' she's got, we

need someone to keep an eye on the prisoners. It's not an exciting job, but it is

important."

Yvonne grumbled a bit, but she was practical enough to see the sense in what Jules had

said. She let her husband help her to her feet and the three SOTS agents went back out

into the front rooms, where Pias had finished locking up the prisoners in their own

handcuffs.

The job of interrogating the captives fell to Yvette, since she'd had special training in that

delicate art. She didn't expect the killers to be very cooperative, but she'd come

prepared with chemical inducements. Realizing that the prisoners were not of a high

enough level to resist the questioning, she didn't bother with nitrobarb; detrazine would

be good enough to extract all the information she needed.

As it turned out, the four killers knew surprisingly little. They were not really members of

the conspiracy at all, just a team of hired assassins chosen to participate in this particular

operation. They knew nothing about the conspiracy's organization; their only contact was

through Tanya Boros, who stayed secluded on her battle station and directed their

efforts over the subcom. One of the killers did know the battle station's coordinates; it

was drifting in interstellar space less than a parsec away from Floreata.

Their next move seemed clear. They would have to drop by this battle station and pay a

visit to Tanya Boros. Perhaps she would be able to lead them higher up the conspiracy's

ladder, to Lady A and C themselves.