"Smith, E E Doc - d'Alembert 8 - Eclipsing Binaries" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

It was an achievement of special daring-but afterwards, all concerned agreed that it
would be best if, in the future, the young Gospodin Bavol learned how to fly a spacecraft
accurately. They'd been fortunate that, because of the rout of the conspiracy's forces,
there was a quiet period with no assignments, giving Pias time to learn the needed skills.

His intensified course under Jules's watchful eye had made him into a very good pilot in a
surprisingly short time. The four young people were laughing as they climbed into the
groundcar for the short ride to the manor house itself. The past few months had been a
welcome and much needed vacation after the strenuous assignments that culminated
with the coronation. The entire Empire had been shaken by the bold attack on Earth, but
it had held on and had not toppled. There followed a period of peace that allowed
everyone a chance to breathe more easily--even though the agents knew such a state of
affairs could not last forever.

The call they'd feared came that very night, after they finished dinner. The frequency and
the coding of the subetheric transmission left no doubt that the call came from the Head
of the Service himself. The d'Alemberts and the Bavols adjourned quickly to the
mansion's coin room to receive their assignments in privacy.

There, seated in upholstered leather chairs around a large table with built-in computer
terminals, they acknowledged receipt of the signal. The decoding device unscrambled the
incoming message and a shape slowly materialized in the air above the center of the
table-the familiar face of Grand Duke Zander von Wilmenhorst, Head of the Service of
the Empire.

The Grand Duke's most striking feature was that his head was completely shaven, giving
a dramatic effect to the lean, lined face. A closer observer, however, would notice the
brightness in his eyes, a depth of keen intelligence that was restive, ever thinking. The
Head was relentless in his pursuit of the Empire's enemies; now in his fiftieth year, he
combined his native intellect with long experience, and though comparatively few within
the Empire knew the crucial role he played in its affairs, he was regarded in the highest
echelons as the government's premier strategist.

The agents were prepared to greet their boss cheerfully, but the grim expression on the
Head's face made them realize something was seriously amiss. Dispensing with the usual
formalities, Jules asked quickly, "What's wrong?"

"We've been wondering what little game the conspiracy would play next, after their
defeat on Coronation Day," von Wilmenhorst said. "We had the Service braced for
almost anything, anywhere, and still they've managed to surprise us. They've launched an
attack against the Service itself using the most diabolical, insidious weapon they could
find. "

"I almost hate to ask, but what is it?" Yvette said. "You," the Head replied. As the agents
stared back at him, perplexed, he added, "Or rather, some people impersonating you."

"How can they?" Vonnie asked. "Nobody knows what we look like."

"That's precisely what they're counting on," the Head told them. "Fifty-five days ago, the
Service headquarters on Bolshaya received a high priority call that all the local agents