The purity plot, p.9
The Purity Plot, page 9
Pias had taken everything the Puritans believed and twisted it around 180 degrees. He had preached epicureanism to stoics, hedonism to ascetics; had broken every code they knew. And yet so expertly had he played the game, so skillfully had he manipulated their emotions, that they ended up loving it. By the time he had finished, nearly a quarter of the audience was dedicated to his cause, and more than half the rest were at least tolerant of his ideas.
"Well," he asked Yvette after his first performance, "what do you think now?"
"I think," she said, "that if you can keep on consistently like this, it will make Tresa Clunard and her Army of the Just sit up and take notice."
And she was right.
Chapter 8
Slag
The meeting with Chactan, the arms supplier, would be a big one, and naturally Jules and Yvonne chose to dress up for the occasion. Jules sported a mustache and wore contact lenses that changed his eye color from gray to brown. He darkened his complexion, added a few creases to his face, and insinuated the faintest bit of gray into his hair, all of which gave him the appearance of being a decade older than he really was.
Vonnie dyed her normally brown hair red and plucked out her eyebrows until they were just the thinnest of lines, separating her eyelids from her forehead; She covered her face and hands, and all other exposed areas of skin, with the glittering body makeup that was the rage of Sector Thirty-One, and she wore boots with heels that added a full six centimeters to her height.
The meeting was to take place in the center of an open field, where there was a clear view for kilometers around. That would prevent Chactan and his cohorts from planning any kind of ambush. The d'Alemberts arrived in their groundcar two hours early to check out the landscape and, when they had assured themselves there were no tricks, they sat in their craft and waited for the others to arrive.
Five minutes before the appointed hour, Chactan's copter came into view over the horizon. It flew at a leisurely pace and settled to earth twenty meters from the d'Alembert car. As Jules had instructed, Chactan and Panji were the only two people inside. They stepped out of the copter, arms extended to either side to show they were carrying no weapons. Jules nodded to his wife, and the two SOTS agents climbed out of their own vehicle. The four people met at a spot midway between the two crafts.
Chactan was not a physically impressive man. He was of medium height and build, with a dark complexion and weathered hands. He was partially bald and had craggy good looks. But his walk and his mannerisms revealed him to be a man brimming with self-confidence, not to be crossed lightly. So far, the d'Alemberts' dealings with Panji had been simple, but this Chactan would be no easy opponent.
"Khorosho, were here," Jules said as he and Vonnie approached the other pair. "We've been delegated to speak for our organization. What have you got to say?"
It was Chactan who replied; Panji had been brought along merely to provide someone familiar to these unknown interlopers, and would take no real part in the negotiations. "This struggle between us has to stop. It's taking too heavy a toll on both sides."
"Really? I hadn't noticed any toll on our side.
If Jules's remark had any effect on Chactan, he masked it nicely. "There haven't been any profits, though, either. Blowing up our shipments hasn't automatically brought you business. The customers you've tried to steal from us haven't been able to get any merchandise, from what we hear on the street. You've been spending so much of your energy hitting us that you haven't had time to do any selling of your own. And that's what business is really about, isn't it?" Jules stood silently for a moment, then gave a slow nod. "Even if what you say is true, we still hold the upper hand. The market is still there, unfulfilled. If we continue on as we are, we'll starve you out and then have it all to ourselves."
"Do you think so?"Chactan raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "If we leave our customers unsatisfied too much longer, someone else will move in to supply their needs. Then you'll have to get rid of him, too. You'll be spending all your time and money just getting rid of the competition, and you won't have any chance to make a profit. I don't think you can continue operating that way much longer."
"I presume you're here to offer an alternative." "Yes, a partnership. We're not greedy. Rather than continuing to lose so much of our investment to your inroads, we'll take you in and let you work with us, sharing the profits accordingly."
"What can you do for us that we can't do for ourselves?" Yvonne spoke up for the first time. Chactan turned to face her. "We've got the contacts ready-made; it could take you months, or even years, to develop a network the size of ours. We've already got the customers and a distribution set up to serve their needs."
"We've got a few customers too, that you probably don't know anything about." Vonnie dropped that little comment and watched Chactan's eyes light up. If he was plugged into Lady A's conspiracy, that piece of news would travel quickly back to headquarters. "We get our merchandise from a couple of small manufacturers who operate double inventory systems to fool the impers. What about you?"
Chactan smiled, glad of the opportunity to show off the superiority of his own organization. "We don't have to bother with complications like that. We have our own plant hidden away, providing top-notch goods exclusively for us."
They had already guessed that, but Jules and Yvonne pretended to be excited by this revelation. They asked for a moment alone and pretended to confer among themselves. Then they asked Chactan for the plant's location, but he wouldn't tell them. They asked technical questions about the plant's operating capacity and output, number of employees, and profit margins. Chactan answered some questions specifically while leaving others vague or totally ignored.
Jules and Vonnie next asked for some time alone in their car while they talked to "other executives" in their organization. They put on a good show of arguing over the car radio, out of earshot of Chactan and Panji, to convince those two that the SOTS agents were part of a larger group. Finally, they emerged from their car once more and approached the central meeting spot.
"We agree," Jules said, "on one condition. We have to inspect your plant to make sure it's producing up to our standards."
Chactan shook his head. "But if you don't like it, that still gives you the opportunity to back out, knowing where our plant is and able to cause still more damage to us, without risking a thing yourselves."
"What do you suggest, then'?" Vonnie asked. "You give us the list of these other customers you mentioned. It'll be an equal deal, a secret for a secret. If we're going to end up partners, we would end up sharing the information anyway."
Jules and Yvonne glanced at one another, and then Vonnie nodded. "Khorosho, you've got a deal.'.' There was, of course, no list of customers that the d'Alemberts' organization had been supplying. Jules and Yvonne spent a full day making up a convincing sounding list of names. For the sake of thoroughness, they transmitted a copy of the list to the local SOTE office, with instructions that these names were to be entered in the Service's official files in case Chactan's people ran a detailed check.
Another snag occurred when Chactan balked at letting the d'Alemberts take their own ship to the secret world where the munitions plant was hidden. His reasoning was logical: the d'Alemberts had already proven their hostile intentions toward his organization, and if he simply told them where the plant was they could fly over it and bomb it to smithereens. Jules and Vonnie countered that if they went in one of Chactan's ships some "accident" might befall them.
A compromise was finally developed. Two ships would make the journey, la Comete Cuivre and one of Chactan's. Chactan would accompany Jules in the Cornet, while Vonnie would travel with the crew from the other side, each would serve as hostage to the others good behavior. The d'Alemberts were a little reluctant to allow Chactan aboard their vessel because of all the top secret equipment it contained, but they realized there was no other logical way of achieving their goal. They hid as much of the special SOTE equipment as they could, and disguised the rest to look like ordinary spaceship gear. They were fortunate in that George Chactan was not himself a licensed pilot, and had little idea what was supposed to be there and what wasn't.
Once they had blasted off the surface of Nampur, Chactan gave Jules the directions to head for the system containing the planet Tregania, twenty-three light-years away. Jules handed Chactan the envelope containing the names of his fictitious customers, and they were on their way.
Once they reached the new solar system, Chactan ordered Jules to go, not to Tregania, which was the fourth planet out from the sun, but to the first planet, which had no official name. There, safe from prying eyes, the munitions plant was in full operation. The people who worked on that world had given it the singularly appropriate nickname of Slag.
Slag was an airless ball of rock ten thousand kilometers in diameter, orbiting a mere fifty-three million kilometers from its sun. As far as anyone outside the conspiracy knew, it was both uninhabited and uninhabitable. Temperatures on the daytime hemisphere were in excess of 350 Celsius, hot enough that pools of molten lead and rivers of flowing tin were conceivable, if not commonplace. On the night side, the temperatures plummeted to just slightly above absolute zero. Nobody gave Slag much thought when there were so many more planets perfectly suitable for human habitation. That was what made it such a perfect hiding place.
As the Comet approached this barren world, a signal was beamed out to the ship, giving landing instructions so that it could set down near the base. As Jules came in low, he saw that landing was a feat that would tax his abilities as a pilot to the limit. The ground was so cracked from the alternating periods of searing heat and bitter cold that it was difficult to find a smooth, open area in which to set his ship down.. Other ships were clustered about on a small plain, including the ship that Vonnie had traveled aboard. After receiving radioed assurances that everything was smooth with her, Jules completed the ticklish task of bringing the Comet down within the tiny zone provided.
A passenger tube snaked out from the main dome of the factory, attaching itself to the Comet's hatch and forming an airtight seal. Jules and Chactan walked down the tube to the base without ever having to don their space suits.
Despite the fact that this was a large factory for the manufacture of munitions, the base had a temporary look to it. Indeed, the dome did have to be periodically taken apart and relocated elsewhere on the planet, because Slag rotated on its axis once every fifty-four days, while it revolved around the sun in seventy-seven days. It did not keep one face perpetually toward its primary, as Luna did to Earth. The base, being this close to the sun, used solar power to run its generators (rather than nuclear power which was common through the rest of the galaxy) so it had to stay on the sunny side to remain in operation.
Jules was reunited with Yvonne in the main reception lock, a large chamber with windows looking out onto the landing field. The two were then taken off to the living quarters so they could be settled in. They had not told Chactan that they were married-they wanted to keep him guessing about their identities and relationship-so he had conservatively assigned them to separate rooms. Neither Jules nor Yvonne was excited by the idea of sleeping apart so recently after their marriage, but they were resigned to it as simply one more sacrifice to be made in the service of their emperor. Vonnie did manage to whisper in Jules's ear how much she would miss him, and Jules squeezed her hand to show he reciprocated.
As they walked back with Chactan toward the mess hall, Jules asked, "I can see that this is a great hiding place for your factory, but is there any other reason for its being here? The operational costs must be far higher than they would be on a more habitable planet."
"True. But we get our raw materials for nothing." Chactan waved a hand expansively. "This entire world is one vast chemical laboratory. Metals that you normally Dave to dig out of the ground, smelt down, and refine are flowing freely in their molten state, relatively pure. Of those materials that remain solid, we have unlimited solar energy available to help us break them down into more usable form. Energy, resources, and secrecy are the three big advantages to Slag. The inconvenience of maintaining the base is at most a minor disadvantage by comparison."
In the crowded conditions that existed on Slag, the mess hall doubled as a recreation room, and there were several hundred people scattered about at the various tables, playing electronic games, gambling at cards, or merely whiling away the time with talk. "How many people are stationed here?" Jules asked as the party made its way to the food dispenser.
"About two thousand," Chactan replied. "The exact number depends on how busy we are at any given time." He ordered his food from the dispenser, then moved to a vacant spot at one of the long tables. After a moment, Jules and Vonnie joined him.
"Large portions of the plant are automated," the criminal leader continued as they ate. "We obviously don't want to have any more people involved in the operation than is absolutely necessary, both from a standpoint of safety and from a standpoint of secrecy. We do need some people though, to run the machines, to help take them down, move them, and set them up again whenever night starts overtaking us, to scout the geological locations for usable resources, and to mine the resources once we find them."
"It sounds fascinating," Yvonne said, genuinely interested. She had never visited so hostile a world before, and found the concept of living and working here most exciting.
"The entire operation is extremely efficient," Chactan beamed with justifiable pride. It was clear he had established this base himself, and it was his expertise that made it work. The admiration Yvonne was showing made him open up more than he normally might have.
After their meal they toured the production facilities and watched munitions being manufactured through all stages of their development. They saw chemicals being mixed in large vats to create the plastics that would be poured into molds and shaped into the gun bodies. They saw metals being smelted down and formed into the interior components of blasters and casings for bombs. They visited the mixing rooms in a separate complex, where highly volatile compounds were combined to form powerful explosives. The plant even manufactured its own fuses.
"We specialize in the acid-mix type," Chactan explained. "Acids of all sorts are very plentiful around here."
Jules and Yvonne nodded knowingly. Acid-mix fuses were among the simplest kinds to use. A small vial. of acid was broken in the top container of the fuse. The center of the container was made of a material that the acid would eat away, until eventually it reached the second half of the container. There it mixed with another compound, generating enough heat to detonate the bomb to which it was attached. The length of time it took to detonate could be altered by varying the strength of the acid and the thickness of the material it had to eat through. It was all totally- automatic, and could be explained to anyone with normal intelligence, so it was the natural device to give to terrorists with little technical training.
As they made their way back to the living quarters Vonnie remarked, "I'm very impressed with what I've seen, but there's one omission. You've got all strengths of blasters, bombs, explosives, and fuses, but I haven't seen any stun-guns being manufactured here."
"We don't make them," Chactan said flatly. "Stunners are not a fearsome enough weapon, and our customers don't want them. In order to spread terror, they have to absolutely convince people that they will die if they disobey orders. Nothing does that better than a bomb or a blaster."
He gave a snort. "Stunners are gentlemen's weapons, a promise not to hurt the victim permanently if he plays by the rules. We don't follow those rules. We play for keeps."
"I'll keep that in mind," Jules said solemnly. During the "night" shift, while Jules and Vonnie were asleep, a message came over the telecom machine installed in the base's communications and control office. The woman on duty requested a printout, then delivered it personally to Chactan's room.
After the woman had left, Chactan unfolded the note and read it privately, becoming more and more disturbed at its consequences. He had sent the list of customers Jules had provided to his boss C for further checking. The reply did not please him:
CUSTOMERS DID NOT EXIST IN SOTE'S FILES
UNTIL DAY BEFORE YOUR QUERY. DO NOT EXIST
ANYWHERE ELSE. SUSPECT SOTS AGENT ACTIVITY.
C
As was the standard procedure with all communications from his boss, Chactan burned it immediately after reading it, then summoned Ray Furman, the plant manager, to his room. While he waited for the man to arrive, he coldly considered his alternatives.
"I made a serious mistake," he admitted when Furman showed up, "but fortunately it's a correctable one. The two people I brought with me today have turned out to be SOTE agents. Naturally, we cant let them leave Slag alive."
Furman nodded. "I understand. They're sleeping right now. I could round up a couple of men and--" "It's too risky to do anything inside the base," Chactan said, shaking his head. "They're armed right now, and they might end up doing some damage to the plant before we kill them. I don't want anything to endanger our operation here."
"What do you suggest, then?"
Chactan smiled. "They were scheduled to go out tomorrow with one of the mining teams to see how that phase of our process works. We'll just let them go. After all, Slag is a very inhospitable world-all sorts of accidents can happen, can't they?"
