perimeter of the fence surrounding the grounds. No one dreamed of an attempt to seize the Palace at such a time, since there was nothing and no one within worth seizing; the soldiers who drew this duty were for the most part careerists nearing retirement rather than alert and vigor-ous young lads.
Thus it was no trick at all for the SS to seize control of the Palace of State from this handful of time servers. An unmarked car holding four SS men in civilian tunics drove up to the gate and demanded admittance, claiming to have authorization from Councilor Krull to remove some books and papers he desired for study. When one of the guards stuck his head inside the car, he found himself staring down the oiled iron barrel of a submachine gun. It was therefore easy enough to persuade the fellow to draw over his companion on the pretext that confirmation of the authenticity of the certificate of authorization was needed.
The two were trussed up nicely and tossed in the back of the car while one of the SS men opened the gate.
Once this had been accomplished, the need for stealth was removed; a signal was given and in the darkness of a nearby side street, two-score motorcycle engines were kicked into life. Before the remaining soldiers could respond to this sudden hubbub with anything more forceful than confusion and alarm, forty black SS motorcycles came roaring up the drive at eighty miles an hour. They reached the Palace entrance with such blinding speed and such a spectacle of forceful vigor that the four hapless wretches at the foot of the stairs did not so much as get off a shot before they were felled by SS truncheons. After that, it was an easy matter to round up the six isolated sentries, who had been thrown into a state of terror, and confine (hem under guard in the basement of the building with the other prisoners.
Notification of the capture of the Palace was given by electrophone to Party headquarters, and reinforcements were immediately dispatched. Within fifteen minutes, the Palace of State had been garrisoned by three hundred elite SS troops, and the perimeter of the fence was guarded at twenty-yard intervals by heavy machine-gun emplace-ments. In addition, the howitzers in the headquarters compound had been zeroed in on Star Keep. If the army made any attempt to march on the Palace, it would pay dearly. Lar Waffing was even now informing the Star Command of certain selected details of the situation.
126
Within half an hour of the seizure of the Palace by SS
shock troops, unmarked cars began arriving at short intervals with their assigned prisoners. Only when word of the completion of this phase of the operation reached Party headquarters, did Feric, escorted by a score of motorcycle SS, leave for the Palace.
Never had the Council chamber presented to Feric an aspect this pleasing. All eight Councilors were trussed to their chairs like so many chickens in a market, and over each of them hovered two tall blond SS men with steely blue eyes, fanatic resolve, and cocked submachine guns.
Twenty more SS men in black leather encircled the rotunda; in the hall outside, Feric could hear the reassuring clatter of steel-shod SS boots on tile. There could be no mistaking who ruled here now.
Behind Feric as he confronted the prisoners were Best, Bogel, and Remler, crooking submachine guns in their arms. A Party flag had been erected by the Council table and the double red lightning bolts of the SS were displayed on a smaller black banner beside it.
Only Krull, out of his senile whining arrogance, presumed to address Feric under these circumstances. "What is this filthy outrage, Jaggar?" he wheezed. "How dare you—"
Before the old degenerate could further pollute the atmosphere, the nearest SS guard ended the outburst with a smart backhanded blow across the mouth that left the old pirate drooling blood.
Feric favored this fine young fanatic with a modest nod of approval before deigning to address the collection of cooked political gooses; the fellow deserved to know that his Commander had noticed his dash and speed.
"I will now inform you of the reason for your arrest,"
Feric said.
"Arrest!" Guilder cried. "You mean kidnapping!"
A gun butt to the back of the head ended this unseemly outburst, and Feric continued. "You are all charged with treason. There is a Dominator among you and you have fallen into his net. Such laxity in will in Helder of your high position is tantamount to displaying cowardice in the face of the enemy, a treasonable offense, punishable by death."
The faces of the prisoners fell. Gradually their eyes came to focus on Gelbart—a Universalist after all, and 127
therefore the most likely of their number to be a Dom.
For his part, Gelbart stared impassively into space; Feric could sense him exerting the full force of his will on the wretched creatures. Their resolve slowly stiifened, and all at once, they gained the courage to speak.
"What nonsense!"
"Where is your proof?"
"A Dom on the Council? Utter rubbish!"
