The purity plot, p.16
The Purity Plot, page 16
"Khorosho," Jules agreed. "No shooting, we just push them a little harder."
But as the Comet gained on its prey it soon became clear that Jules was not the only person who had radioed ahead to Tregania for help. A fleet of seven ships rose from the planet, racing upward toward a meeting with Chactan's craft. "I told Lee to remain inconspicuous," Jules muttered. "Those can't be his ships."
Indeed they weren't. As the fleet drew nearer to the pair of ships coming from Slag, it was obvious they were going to let the first go by them. Their target was the Comet. And there could be little doubt that these ships were armed. "Better 'start evading," Vonnie said. But even as she opened her mouth, Jules was playing with his controls, maneuvering their ship into position for a fight against vastly greater odds. Yvonne, meanwhile, turned for the radio and started calling Lee, to tell him that the time for subtlety had passed.
A stream of tiny blips on the screens showed a pattern of space torpedoes laid down in their path by the seven oncoming cruisers. Jules turned on the rapid-fire autoblasters. The sensors locked onto the targets, and a series of small, staccato bursts of energy blazed forth from positions around the Comet's hull. Directly ahead a series of silent explosions meant that the autoblasters had done their job, clearing a path through the torpedo field. Jules's concentration was entirely on the space ahead as he steered the vessel through the lane it had opened up.
Beside him, Vonnie had finished talking to Lee and was busy at her own task, manning the Comet's not inconsiderable offensive array. Those seven enemy cruisers might have them outnumbered, but they'd learn that dealing with d'Alemberts meant they were in for a fight.
Her job as gunner was complicated by the fact that Jules was twisting the ship around constantly to avoid the enemy's weapons. Yvette, having worked with her brother for years, would have formed an almost telepathic rapport with him, knowing instinctively which way he would go, and being able to compensate for it in her aim. Yvonne, having teamed with Jules for a shorter time, was less sure what he would do under any given circumstance, and her aim suffered slightly because of it. Even so, her shots were landing close enough to the enemy ships to force them to take some evasive action of their own, easing a little of the pressure on Jules.
Then suddenly the attack ceased completely as five SOTE fighters zoomed into view from out of nowhere, and the enemy cruisers changed course to face this new threat. One of them swung directly into Vonnie's cross hairs, and she blasted it to shards of glowing debris with evident satisfaction.
"Forget them," Jules told his wife. "Chactan's getting away, and he's the one we really want. Lee can handle these mokoes on his own."
Ignoring the fighting then, the Copper Comet flashed through the battle zone and followed doggedly after the quarry it had already chased a quarter of the way around this solar system. Chactan's ship dipped into the atmosphere and began the complex downward spiral of a landing pattern. Jules was tracking it every second, and laid the coordinates of the orbit into the ship's computer to find out where the other vessel was going to set down. The computer translated the numbers into a location on the planetary grid and, since the spot was on the hemisphere of Tregania facing the ship, it locked its telescopic cameras on the site.
The picture that appeared on the central screen made both agents gasp. It was a fortress whose thick walls must have encompassed fifty hectares. The main building was a group of four connected towers, massive stone cylinders rising twenty stories into the air. Beside the grouping was a private spaceport field, from which, no doubt, the seven attack ships had been launched, and to which Chactan was now speeding. Scattered around the grounds were ominous lumps; a casual observer might have thought they were intended as unusual art forms or whimsies, but to Jules's trained eye they looked suspiciously like heavy gun emplacements.
"Someone was expecting a fight when he designed that place," Jules said.
"Your assumption was right," Vonnie acknowledged. "It's the duke himself. No one of lesser importance could command a fort that imposing."
"We'll have to shift tactics. The Comet isn't really built for atmospheric maneuvering, and if we try to land where Chactan's going we'll be blown to a powder so thin they couldn't hold us in a sieve."
As he spoke, Jules was taking the big ship down to the upper reaches of Tregania's atmosphere and setting it on autopilot to maintain an orbit at that altitude. He and Yvonne then went off to the chamber where their aircar, the Mark 41 Service Special, was snugged in its special niche. They turned on the internal systems and locked the protective bubble around the car, making it airtight. Then, at a command from the car's control console, the Comet opened the bay hatch and the tiny car pushed itself away from the ship, downward toward the surface of Tregania.
The fall was in reality a carefully controlled glide, with Jules monitoring their progress every meter of the way. He was aiming to bring the car down near the fortress, just a short distance outside the walls. "They don't know about this car yet," he explained to V onnie, "but if we come down right on top of them, they'll blow us out of the sky just for target practice. Those big guns are aimed to defend against attack from the sky. If we come in low, their guns will be useless."
They watched on their screens as Chactan's ship set down on the spacefield, and its occupants ran for cover inside the fortress towers. It took only another five minutes before they themselves were down, a kilometer north of the wall. Jules kept them hovering, just a few meters above ground level, while he and Vonnie checked to see that all their armaments were in good working order. When the final light on the board flashed a welcome green, Jules gave his wife a brief nod. "Hang onto your hair," he said. "We're going in."
The little car accelerated straight ahead at a rate of nearly five gees. The wall came up to meet them at a breathtaking rate, but the touch of a button from Yvonne caused a high-intensity beam to lash out and demolish a section of the barrier in front of them. They zipped through the wall and into the grounds beyond.
As they passed the towers the first time, Vonnie gave them several strong bolts from her heavy-duty multiblasters. The towers shook, but remained standing; the stonework on the outside must have been ornamental, concealing some sturdy shielding underneath. The car raced past before she had time for more than one salvo, but there was no hurry. There were plenty of other targets deserving her attentions, and the towers would still be there the next time they came around in that direction.
Jules had memorized the layout of the grounds, as he'd studied it from the air, and had planned his route with clinical precision. He headed for the first of the gun emplacements at a speed so great that the defenders could not keep up with him. Even if the gun had been built to deal with a menace charging at it from ground level, its operators still would have been reluctant to fire for fear of missing the car and hitting the towers instead. The fortress was armed with an elephant gun and was trying to stop a wasp.
The d'Alemberts displayed no reluctance whatsoever at showing their sting. Jules was taking their vehicle on a.wide swing around the emplacement, giving Vonnie plenty of time to perfect her marksmanship. He needn't have bothered; one shot was all his wife needed. I n a matter of seconds the big gun outside was just a towering column of flames and black smoke, and the pesky aircar was on its way to the second target.
The fort's defenders tried gamely to stop the invaders from SOTE, but their attempts fell pitifully short. Most of the stronghold's defense had been centered around the big weapons, capable of stopping any attack from space. The defenders scattered about the grounds had only hand-held blasters, not at all sufficient for penetrating the shields that surrounded the d'Alembert vehicle.
Jules ignored the ground fire and concentrated exclusively on knocking out the big weapons. One by one they fell, as Vonnie maintained a perfect shooting record. Jules would chide her later that they had all been easy, sitting targets, but at the time they were only concerned that the job be done right. As the last of the emplacements was destroyed, Jules lifted the aircar off the ground and took it in a leisurely flight around the four, grouped towers that constituted the main building.
The defenders tried some last-ditch shooting but the SOTE vehicle's shields had been designed to withstand far worse. As Jules made lazy circles around the towers, like a hawk, Vonnie dropped a series of bombs that shook the ground beneath them and caused part of one tower to crumble away.
The radio crackled to life over the standard!SOTE frequency. "Wombat, this is Lee. We've taken care of the problem upstairs and we're coming down with three ships-if you need them."
At the same time, Vonnie pointed to the car's screens. Someone was raising a white flag atop one of the towers. The DesPlainians slumped back in their chairs with evident relief.
They hovered over the scene in their car, watching casually as Lee's ships landed and took charge. The fortress's defenders were led out at gunpoint, and would all be taken to local headquarters for intensive questioning.
Jules would also be visiting the local headquarters, to have a Service doctor check out his burned feet and start them on the road to recovery. But the d'Alemberts' active role was about at an end. After giving Lee a briefing on what questions to ask, they could at last return home to DesPlaines.
Chapter 15
The Duel on the Hill
Back on Purity, the situation remained tense. Despite repeated pleas from FitzHugh, the Bavols refused to speak further until Tresa Clunard could be roused from the stun charge they had given her.
Most of the time Pias took on the dull job of holding the cord of the deadman's switch. Yvette rested, but with gun at the ready. Her left shoulder was still aching, but she bore up well, and only by looking closely could Pias tell the pain she was in.
During one brief shift while Yvette relieved him at the cord, Pias looked over the armory and catalogued its contents. Not only were there plenty of hand weapons, but there were also large heavy-duty models on their mobile tripods. There were cases of explosives and box after box of the acid-mix fuses needed to set them off. There were rows and rows of heavy body armor, for use in space battles. Pias took thoughtful note of all these things, then returned to his post and relieved Yvette of the cord once more.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a new voice came booming up the hill at them. "This is Tresa Clunard. I understand you want to talk to me." Pias took up the bullhorn again. "Yes indeed. You're going to find this a little difficult to believe, Sister Tresa, but we mean you no personal harm." "You do have an odd way of demonstrating such intentions."
"We could have killed you back in your office if we'd wished. We'd hoped to avoid senseless killing. We still do, as a matter of fact. We are here to warn you of a traitor in your midst."
"Why should you do that for me?"
"Sister Tresa; we have both worked as servants of God. I grant you that our theological stances have been far apart-some might even say diametrically opposed-but I'm sure even you will have to admit that at no time did I ever counsel anyone to go against God's will. We have different interpretations of that will, but can you at least admit that I am sincerely on the side of God?"
"You seem to be." Clunard was still defensive. "Then I say to you, as someone who loves God as dearly as you do, that there is, in your organization, a traitor not only to you, but to me, to Purity, and to all of mankind. This person has joined your movement only to subvert it, to twist its goals around to her own secular purposes. She would use the force that you have built up, not for fighting God's battle, but for fighting the battles of her treasonous masters. She is using you shamelessly for unholy ends, and she herself is a slave to the very machines you decry so loudly."
He paused for breath, and Yvette took the opportunity to ask him, "Aren't you going to say she is a machine?"
"Never tell an audience more than they're prepared to believe," Pias said in an aside to his wife. "Clunard will have a hard enough time believing FitzHugh's a traitor; if I said she was a robot as well, my entire story would be discredited."
His remarks to Yvette made the pause longer than he had intended, and Clunard took the opportunity to interject a question of her own. "Whom do you accuse in my army?"
Pias took a deep breath. "I accuse Elspeth FitzHugh of being a traitor to you, to the Empire, and to God Himself."
Down the hill there was a brief moment of stunned silence. "There is no one in the universe more loyal to me than Sister Elspeth," Clunard said at last.
"Or no one who pretends to be," Pias countered. "What evidence can you offer of her treason?"
"I have no physical evidence. I have investigated the matter thoroughly, however, and all the evidence is inescapable."
"Your theology is faulty, why should I expect that your deductive powers are any better?"
"Because we are at an impasse, Sister Tresa. You were wondering how it could be broken, and I've just told you. Deliver Elspeth FitzHugh to us and we will leave quietly. We want nothing more from you."
"I'd sooner give up my right arm," Clunard shot back. Pias did not respond, and silence settled over the camp for several minutes. "Brother Cromwell?" Clunard called again.
"Yes?"
"Sister Elspeth has made a suggestion. Personally, I find your entire argument ludicrous and without foundation, but she insists on treating it seriously. Her honor has been besmirched, and she seeks the opportunity to right it again in the eyes of God and of men."
"How does she propose to do that?"
"A duel. You and she will battle, alone and unarmed, in front of all of us. If you win, you will have what you say you want, and you will leave us in peace. If she wins, you will no longer be a threat to us and we will trust your wife to surrender as well."
"I thought trial by combat went out with the Inquisition," Pias muttered under his breath.
As though reading his thoughts, Clunard continued, "I've told Sister Elspeth that I didn't want to risk her in such a foolish endeavor, but such is her faith that she knows God will give her the strength she needs, just as He gives me the strength to bend the metal rods." "Khorosho, I accept," Pias said.
Yvette looked at him wide-eyed. "Are you crazy? FitzHugh would never have suggested that if she thought there were a chance she could lose. She's a robot, remember-stronger, faster, and with better reflexes. In unarmed combat you don't stand a chance against her."
"She can't use her full strength or her full speed against me," Pias replied calmly. "Even these people's belief in miracles can only extend so far. If she looks too superhuman they may begin to wonder. And remember how paranoid these robots are about giving themselves away."
"She doesn't have to go full-out. All she has to do is be a split second faster, a tiny bit stronger. One sharp blow to the neck can kill without appearing to be hocus-pocus."
Pias flashed her a confident smile. "We Gypsies have a few fighting tricks of our own. I'll be careful." A few moments later, Pias appeared at the door to the arsenal looking down on the assembled army--and at Clunard and FitzHugh. "I'm alone and unarmed," he called, spreading his arms to show that he carried no weapons. "My wife is back inside there, still holding the cord. If there is any treachery against me, she'll drop it instantly."
"What about you?" FitzHugh asked. "Will you stand by the agreement if you lose?"
"I swear by almighty God that I will," Pias said. "And my wife has assured me that she will too. But if you break your word and use any artificial weapons.
then the deal is off and I'll defend myself as I choose." "Agreed," Clunard said before FitzHugh could advise her differently.
The robot stepped forward. Her back was to Clunard and to the army, but Pias could detect the hint of a smile at the edges of her lips. She knew that on this three-gravity planet there was no one stronger or faster than she was. And if her opponent should pull a weapon, she could still react fast enough to dodge it; plus, it would brand him a liar and a cheat.
Pias stood his ground in a slight crouch. The snow underfoot had been trampled and was becoming a bit slushy. For the moment, he held a slight advantage; FitzHugh had to come uphill to approach him. But that advantage would not last long; if his plan was to succeed, he would have to intentionally give up the edge, turn her around so that she was facing the troops and Tresa Clunard down below.
FitzHugh approached with the easy confidence of a sure winner, while Pias held his body tense and ready to spring. Yvette had been right about one thing: he dared not let the robot get in so much as a single, solid blow, or he was doomed. Even if she didn't kill him outright, one quick strike would disable him enough to let her finish at her leisure. He had to win without touching her; and despite his confidence in front of Yvette, there were some doubts in the back of his mind that he could manage it.
She came within two meters of him and stopped. For more than a minute the two antagonists faced one another, neither moving. I 'don't have to make the first move. Pias told himself. Let her do all the work.
Tiring at last of the deadlock, FitzHugh feinted with her left shoulder and started toward Pias on her right foot. The SOTE agent held his ground as long as possible to make sure there were no double-feints, then, at the last instant, danced out of the way of the charge. The robot raced past, reaching out as she went by and just missing with a grab for Pias's shirt. The SOTE agent thought the other's momentum would carry her several meters past him, but she was able to spin around in the snow faster than he expected and make another lunge at him. He was able to avoid this one only by the ungraceful expedient of sliding to the ground. He scrambled to his feet quickly after she'd passed, reminding himself not to underestimate her abilities.
"What's the matter, Brother Cromwell?" FitzHugh taunted. "Has your God suddenly deserted you?" Pias did not bother to reply. The robot could afford to talk; it didn't need air to live. Pias preferred to save his breath for the action that was to come.
