Durward Again

Etienne d'Alembert's announcement of her father's execution hit Helena like an avalanche.

There was suddenly a cold, hollow place in her stomach, and her very being seemed to

be draining out a hole. Her head was shaking automatically in denial, and her body felt as

though it were made of wet snow. Her knees began to sink slowly, no longer able to

support the weight of her body.

Etienne d'Alembert. seeing Helena in shock, rushed from behind his desk to embrace her

and guide her to an armchair. Helena's body felt clammy to his touch; there was a cold

sweat breaking out on her forehead. A fit of shivering gripped her, and he held her tightly

until the seizure subsided. Even so, her teeth were chattering so convulsively she could

not talk.

Duke Etienne went to his intercom and called to the commissary for a large pot of hot

chocolate. By the time it arrived, Helena was beginning to look herself again. She

gratefully accepted the cup of chocolate Etienne poured her.

"I ... I didn't think she'd ... how ... what were the details?" she stammered around sips of

the drink.

The Duke sighed, sitting on the edge of his desk and watching the young woman's face

intently. "There weren't many details released to the public at all. The newsreels merely

said that Grand Duke Zander von Wilmenhorst had been seized and charged with high

treason. Because the nature of the crime was so sensitive, he was taken back to Earth

and summarily executed."

"Without even a trial?" Helena asked. "A Grand Duke deserves at least a High Court of

Justice. Even Banian got one of those."

Etienne shook his head sadly. "The Empress has, of course, the authority to do anything

she pleases. A High Court of Justice is customary and traditional in such cases, but the

Empress overruled that tradition. In view of your father's sensitive position, I can hardly

blame her for wanting to keep everything secret. By the way, nothing whatsoever was

said in the newsrolls about you; it's as if you didn't exist."

Helena blinked uncomprehendingly. "But what about Sector Four? That should be mine

now."

"I'm afraid not. Because of the nature of the crime, the Empress took back governance

of the sector, and is said to be studying who to appoint as the next Grand Duke or

Duchess. You've been disinherited."

Shock upon shock. Helena had been raised all her life with the certain knowledge that

one day she would be the ruler of Sector Four, one of the richest women in the Galaxy,

with power rivaled by few and inferior only to the Empress herself. Suddenly, in one swift

stroke, all of that was gone. She no longer even had the right to claim her noble title. She

was just plain Helena von Wilmenhorst, presently unemployed and fleeing from Imperial

justice.

She sat in silence for a few moments, sipping at her chocolate as the heavy news sank

in. "I ... I can't believe. . . . "

"I also received a private call from Edna herself," EtienK added when it was clear Helena

would not finish her sentence. "She .broke the news to me personally, before I could hear

it from anywhere else. She told me a bit of what had happened-that there was some

evidence that your father was this notorious C who ran the conspiracy. "

"All fraudulent," Helena said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"She said she had trouble believing it herself," the Duke continued. "She wanted to keep

both of you under simple house arrest at first-but when you escaped, she realized that

couldn't work. She had your father brought back to Earth and executed secretly before

anything more could happen. She was almost in tears as she told it to me. "

"Bozhe mot," Helena said, her lower lip trembling. "I killed him. He told me it might make

us look more guilty, but I ignored him. If I hadn't run away. . . ."

That was as far as she could get before her grief and guilt overwhelmed her. Her eyes

filled with tears; her body convulsed with heavy sobbing. She leaned forward in her chair,

dropping the cup of chocolate to the carpeted floor, and wrapped her arms tightly around

her knees. Her head was bowed, and for several minutes the only sounds in the room

were her small gasping noises and whimpers of utter misery. Etienne watched her

dry-eyed. He'd done his crying two days ago; he had no tears left now.

When Helena seemed to be coming back under control, he offered her his handkerchief

to dry her eyes and wipe her running nose. "Edna and I also talked about you," he said

quietly.

Helena looked up at him, eyes and nose both bright red. "Oh?"

"Yes. I promised her that if you came here, I would take you into my custody, and that

the Circus would not be used to help you with any private missions to clear your father's

name."

Helena had thought her heart could sink no lower, but now found there were new depths

to her despair. The Circus had been her one last hope to find justice, and even that was

to be denied her. The whole universe was empty, and all about her was darkness. "You

might as well just shoot me now,",she said mechanically. "I have nothing more to live for."

"Before you submerge yourself completely in self-pity, there are a few things I'd like to

know," Etienne said in an even tone. "Her Majesty didn't have time to give me a full

briefing on the case, and I'm still very puzzled. Your father was the dearest friend I had in

this life, and if he was condemned to death I'd like to know the reason. Do you know

anything more about the charges?"

Slowly, mechanically, Helena recited the story of Fortier's investigation as the captain

had told it to her. She knew it by heart, having gone over and over it on the trip from

Preis hoping to find some flaw in its logic. She spoke in a near-monotone; she was numb,

and all emotion had fled from her body.

Etienne d'Alembert paced around the room as he listened. His vibrant energy could

hardly have been less like the studied calmness her father had affected when receiving a

briefing, but there was an intensity of concentration and thought that recalled her father

very much. The slight similarity caused a minor ache in Helena's soul, but with so much

grief already present she scarcely noticed.

When she finished, the Duke was shaking his head vehemently. "That's not enough," he

muttered. "I wouldn't condemn a flea on evidence like that. Why did she do it? I don't

understand. Eh bien, she is the Empress. . . ." He fell silent and resumed pacing. Helena

sat silently, waiting for him because she had nothing else to do.

At last he stopped pacing and looked squarely at Helena. "Khorosho, let's look at

Fortier's story. It breaks into three parts, on three different planets: Lateesta, Durward,

and Preis. Everything that happened on Lateesta was perfectly straightforward, and

everything on Preis was neatly wrapped up when the robot ran into your father's house

and conveniently opened up his files. But Durward remains unfinished business; Elsa

Helmund got away, and nobody pursued that connection any further. If there's any weak

point to the story at all, it's there."

He paused to roll the name around in his mind. "Durward." The very name conjured up

long and unpleasant memories, dating back to a time even before Etienne had been

born. Durward had been a source of uneasiness within the Empire for more than sixty

years, entangling and killing many fine SOTE agents in its web of intrigue.

It began when Emperor Stanley Nine was on the throne. Duke Henry Blount of Durward,

in an effort to consolidate more power for himself, arranged for a beautiful and

unprincipled young actress named Aimee Amorat to become the Emperor's mistress.

Amoral-later to be known as the "Beast of Durward"-had a son by the Emperor, and the

child was officially acknowledged as heir to the throne. For form's sake, Amorat was

married to Duke Henry, but her influence over the Emperor continued-until he was

presented with a legitimate heir by his wife. The older child, Banian the Bastard, was

now far more than an embarrassment; he was a threat to the orderly Imperial line of

succession.

Having led an unsuccessful rebellion against her husband Henry, Aimde Amorat took her

son and vanished just a step ahead of SOTE. For over sixty years SOTE had searched

in vain for that child and the royal patent he'd been issued; not until just a few years ago,

when it was almost too late, had Jules and Yvette tracked down Banian and smashed

the organization he'd built over the years. Even Banian did not know what had become of

his mother, but it was assumed she was either dead or infirm by now, since she'd be a

woman in her middle nineties.

In the meantime, the very name Durward raised uncomfortable feelings in any SOTE

agent. The Banian case was closed, but bad memories lingere3 like the smell of old

garbage.

Duke Etienne stroked his right hand as he thought, and anyone who knew him well would

recognize that as an important sign. The Duke's right hand had been severed by a

blaster bolt during the course of one mission, and was now replaced by a very

real-looking artificial one. The detachable fingers were tools and implements of various

sorts; the Duke wore rings on each finger to disguise the seams where the fingers joined

to the hand.

Duke Etienne looked back at Helena. The young woman was staring emptily into space,

still in shock from the horrible news she'd received. "Your father was the closest friend I

had," Etienne told her. "I can't believe he was guilty as charged. Something in Captain

Fortier's story is itching at the back of my brain, and I won't feel right until I investigate

the matter personally."

"But you promised Edna you wouldn't," Helena said lifelessly.

Etienne gave her an encouraging smile. "I promised I wouldn't use the Circus to help you.

But this is something I want to do for myself. Unless I'm given a specific assignment that

takes priority, I've always been free to follow my own course to help Imperial security.

Right now, there's nothing more important to me than finding the truth about your father."

He stood up, walked to her side, and lifted her chin so she was looking straight into his

eyes. "I also promised Edna I would take you into custody, but I never promised to send

you back for trial. If you'll give me your word you won't try to run away from us, you may

come along and help. "

"What would be the point of running away?" Helena said dejectedly. "I've got nowhere

else to go." As the Duke let go of her head, she lowered it again to stare dismally at the

floor.

Etienne d'Alembert gazed with tenderness and pity upon the young woman seated before

him. As long as he'd known her she'd always shown excitement in life and a cheerful

disposition through any adversity. It was heartbreaking to see her as she was now, a

creature broken in mind and spirit. He made a silent vow that, if it were at all possible, he

would prove her father's innocence and return to her the lost fortune and dignity that was

rightfully hers.

Duke Etienne had cultivated, over many long years, the reputation for eccentricity. It was

a common occurrence for him to alter the Circus' schedule without warning and take it to

some other world altogether. Money was always refunded to disappointed ticket holders,

and Etienne always made sure to present them with some token gift to make the

disappointment more bearable. The Circus of the Galaxy was such a popular attraction

that it was always welcomed to a new world, whether it had been expected there or not,

and any bitterness caused by unexpected schedule changes never lasted long.

This eccentricity, of course, made a perfect cover for the Circus' secret activities on

behalf of SOTE, and now it served a more private purpose. The day after Helena's

arrival the Circus announced it was ending its run on Evanoe prematurely and altering its

schedule for a stay on the planet Durward. Both of those worlds were startled, as were

others that had been tentatively on the schedule, but there was little they could do other

than accept Duke Etienne's decision. No one wanted to alienate the mercurial circus

manager, lest he punish them by withholding the Circus from them for longer periods.

The journey from Evanoe to Durward took several days, even at top speed. Helena

traveled in the Duke's personal ship, and few members of the Circus troupe saw her.

She mourned continuously, despite the best efforts of Etienne to cheer her up.

The job ahead of them was complicated by the fact that they were not going to Durward

on official Service business. The Circus' connection with SOTE was so top secret that it

didn't even have a codename. When it was given an assignment at a particular place, the

local agents were told they'd be contacted, but identities were never revealed. No one

had told the local SOTE office on Durward that the Circus people would contact them, so

Etienne knew he and his people would have to work on their own, without official

endorsement or assistance. It would be awkward gaining information and acting on it, but

he'd worked under such handicaps before.

He did have a few personal contacts of his own that he'd developed many years ago.

He'd been on Durward a couple of times in his official capacity; once, checking some

fruitless leads to the whereabouts of Banian the Bastard, and a second time tracing an

unrelated case of a doctor who'd been performing plastic surgery on criminals to alter

their appearances. That last case had been twenty years ago, and apart from routine

Circus appearances he'd never worked on Durward again. His contacts could be dead or

otherwise out of circulation, for all he knew. But he'd have to make the effort.

After landing on Durward. there was nearly a full day wasted while he supervised the

very necessary tasks of setting up the Circus, arranging for publicity, and the thousands

of minute details that were part of his job as manager. Even so, his mind was not idle.

Even after several weeks, the planet was abuzz with speculation on the disappearance

of the planetary Police Commissioner, Elsa Helmund. Etienne read himself to sleep over

the news reports that had been published locally, and he insisted that Helena read them,

too-not only to keep her mind occupied, but to encourage her to start thinking of new

possibilities. She had, after all, been trained by her father, and Duke Etienne had a high

opinion of both the teacher and the raw material he'd worked with.

Now that something was actually being done, Helena started coming out of her shell. As

Etienne had hoped, she was too vibrant a person to remain closed off forever.

After making a few fruitless vidicom calls, he did find one of his old connections, a former

high police official, now retired. The man was willing to talk about Elsa Helmund, so

Etienne paid him a visit, bringing Helena along with him.

The informant did not have much more information about Elsa Helmund than could be

gleaned from the newsrolls, but he did know a little more about the woman's personal

habits. There were certain clubs and social circles she frequented, certain people she

regularly associated with. Working on the theory that some of these associates might be

connected with the conspiracy-or at least might know more about the Police

Commissioner's current whereabouts-Etienne decided these leads should be tracked

down.

The job was parceled out among several of his people, including Helena. They did not

want to scare away any potential leads, so all they did was quietly follow Helmund's

friends to see where they went and who they contacted. It was boring but tricky detail

work, and most of it would end up being totally useless-but a good agent knew that

dedication to the minor tasks often led to data that could crack a case wide open.

Helena had been working for three days following one particular contact when she

noticed something peculiar: She was being followed herself. At first it was nothing more

than an uncomfortable feeling; she would look around and everything appeared normal,

so she tried to dismiss it. But the feeling came more and more frequently-the feeling that

someone's eyes were focused on her. Helena had been thoroughly trained in the art, not

only of following someone else, but of what to do when being followed herself. She tried

several subtle tricks in order to catch the follower in an error while not making it look

deliberate, so he wouldn't know she was trying to spot him. Whoever was tailing her,

though, was as adept as she was; she never caught more than a glimpse of him out of

the comer of her eye, never saw enough to make an identification possible. She made

sure she lost him, though, before returning to the Circus.

When she told Duke Etienne about the watcher, the circus manager gave a predatory

smile. "We may be getting close to something," he said. "Somebody obviously spotted

you. It probably wasn't the person you were watching-I'm sure you're too well trained for

that but someone else may have noticed you and wanted to find out what you were up

to. That means they're afraid you might learn something. I think we should find out just

who has been after you, and maybe bring him in for a little talk."

The next day, Helena went out to tail her quarry as usual, and spent most of the day in

this trivial occupation.

It was not long before she again felt the presence of her own watcher in the corners, but

made no attempt to shake him or look around for him. It was not until late in the evening

that she made her move.

The man she was following walked down the street to the club he generally visited each

week. Helena suddenly broke away from her pursuit of him and raced down an alley to

the side. She hoped for one of two things---either that her own follower would be startled

and break his pattern to chase after her, or else that she'd be able to circle quickly

around and catch him from another angle, where he'd be more visible.

She ran quickly around the block, panting but excited at the prospect of some action. Her

shadow was still nowhere in sight as she returned to the street she'd left so abruptly, and

she was feeling disappointed when she heard the sound of a scuffle in the shadows

beside one building.

Duke Etienne had not sent her out alone today; instead, she'd been accompanied,

discreetly, by the Duke's niece, Luise deForrest, one of the Circus' top clowns and a

superb agent in her own right. Luise had been sent to watch Helena-and, more important,

to watch for anyone else watching her. Helena's quick break had been designed to lure

the watcher out of his pattern so that either Luise or Helena could nab him.

From the sound of it as she approached, Helena could tell there was quite a struggle

going on. Etienne had not wanted to send more than one person to help her; for one

thing, too many people would make themselves more obvious-and for another, the family

pride refused to admit it might take more than one d'Alembert to handle so simple a

situation. Luise, her long black hair tied back in a neat braid to be out of her way, was

locked in hand-to-hand combat with a man who seemed to be almost her match. Helena

pulled out the ministunner Duke Etienne had given her, but although she was a crack

shot, the two bodies were so fiercely interlocked it would have been difficult to hit her

target. Instead, she launched into the fight herself, and with her help Luise was able to

get a firm grip on their antagonist. The female clown swung her opponent hard against

the wall, knocking the breath from his body. The man slumped to the ground,

momentarily incapaciated, and Luise moved in for the knockout blow.

The man's body was sprawled in a patch of light that filtered in from the street, and for

the first time Helena got a clear look at his face. "No, stop!" she cried to Luise. With

great difficulty, the Circus performer held up on the blow she'd been about to deliver.

"What's the matter?" Luise asked.

"I know that man," Helena replied. "That's Captain Fortier. He's on our side-sort of."