The Iron Maiden

by Piers Anthony

  “And they’ve tortured you!” Forta-Spirit cried with horror. “Your legs—all scarred and bandaged!”

  The scars were from prior loop-sites, and the bandage concealed the present loop. But who would believe that at this moment, when Hope’s kidney ailment was not even known?

  “Beautiful,” real-Spirit murmured.

  The face of a higher government official appeared, evidently overriding the prior transmissions. “We are being framed!” he exclaimed in English. “We never touched the Tyrant!”

  Spirit’s visage reappeared. “Then how is my brother locked in your cell, naked and scarred?” she demanded half hysterically. And without giving him a chance to formulate a reply, she continued: “I demand you free him instantly!”

  “But we never—” the official protested, obviously at a loss in this abrupt and astonishing turn of events.

  “So you refuse!” she said indignantly. “Well, my brother is here as the representative of the Union of Saturnine Republics, and we consider this to be an act of war.” Her head turned as she addressed an off-screen party. “Saturn Commander, what is your authority?”

  Now the head of a Saturn Navy marshal appeared. “My fleet is at the disposal of the Tyrant, Hope Hubris.” Evidently he had been properly briefed, and knew the nature of this ploy, and enjoyed it. “Sir, what are your orders?”

  “I seem to have no choice,” Hope said with staged regret. “I must assume power in South Mercury. Orient on the major cities, and destroy them if I die.”

  “Understood, Tyrant,” the marshal said with ill-concealed relish.

  In this manner Hope came to be the Tyrant of Mercury, in the name of the Triton Project. That was the official reason the Saturn Navy supported him. Forta had performed beautifully, fooling almost everybody.

  “I wonder whether your proficient mime emulated you for him, as I emulated him for you?” Khukov inquired innocently.

  She bashed him with a soft pillow. “Only in his sleep.”

  “He has such marvelous dreams.”

  She put him in a head scissors and threatened to bite off his penis. But he tickled her cleft with his tongue until she had to let him go. They dissolved into ferocious sex, then discussed the ramifications of Hope’s Mercury ploy. They both knew that Jupiter was next. But it would take more than the Saturn Navy to handle that.

  “Incidentally,” she said as a crafted afterthought, “thank you for lending Navy support to my brother.”

  “You have forgotten that we are allies now?”

  “And I thought it was just sex!”

  “No, I have no sexual desire for him.”

  In due course Hope traveled to Ganymede, Saturn’s Jupiter satellite. He did it via the light drive, so the Jupiter Navy could not intercept him if it wanted to. Spirit had quietly visited the Premier of Ganymede, preparing the way.

  But Tocsin was not passive. He quietly put Hopie Hubris under house arrest. Juana returned with that news, which she had gleaned from Megan. Megan had been uncertain whether she could approve the return of the Tyrancy, but when Hopie was touched, that changed. Megan would not oppose Hope.

  But Hope would do nothing if it put Hopie in real danger. He loved her like his own, and Spirit had always known and appreciated that. Hopie had to be rescued. That was the tricky part.

  They decided not to tell Hope about Hopie; he had too much else to do. They would get Hopie clear their own way, and with luck Hope would not know until after she was safe.

  “Now is your time,” Spirit told Roulette. “You must substitute for Forta, so that she can infiltrate the White Bubble and rescue Hopie. I think it is best that Hope not know.”

  “I must emulate Forta emulating me,” Rue said, licking her lips. “I can do that in costume, as it were, but I don’t know how to dialyze him.”

  “You will remain in costume throughout,” Spirit said. “You will refuse to step out of character, being typically willful. The Ganymede facilities can dialyze him; the Premier knows what we are up to. Keep him occupied while we do what we have to.”

  Rue nodded. “That I will do, gladly. And thank you, Spirit.”

  “Remember, his talent does not work well when his emotions are involved. You should be able to fool him because he does love you in his fashion. If he catches on, he may get chivalrous about Forta, for he prefers to be true to his current woman.”

  “I know. He was true to me, when I was his. I will do my best.”

  “I will distract my brother. You must take Forta aside and explain about Hopie. She knows you; she will understand. You will exchange places with her, and remain with Hope while Forta departs with me in your guise. If we can fool Hope, we can fool anyone else.”

  “I will fool him.”

  Spirit assumed her Sancho guise, and Roulette donned the uniform of a Jupiter Navy enlisted person. They went to Ganymede, and met Hope, Forta, and a third person: Doppie, on loan from Earth to emulate Spirit when Forta was not available. Spirit updated Hope on her activities for the past months and told him about the network of interference points that would paralyze Tocsin’s directives. She gave him the names for elevation to power in the Jupiter Navy, so that he could declare an immediate and loyal slate. That was vital; he could not prevail without the firm support of the Navy. The Saturn Navy was also near, but its support had to be tacit. Meanwhile Roulette took Forta aside, to acquaint her with relevant details. Few knew just how relevant.

  Hope’s acuity was less than it had been, because of his illness, but he made sure to understand the necessary. At last it was time for them to leave, and for him to undergo dialysis. Spirit knew that when he came out of that, he would not be particularly alert; it would be a break-in period for Roulette.

  Spirit left with Forta, each in her prior guise. Roulette remained behind. Hope was bound to have a remarkable time, in the next few days.

  They went to Jupiter. Juana acquainted them with connections supporting Hope, even among the service personnel of the White Bubble. Forta assumed the identity of a female guard who was to be in charge of a very special prisoner: Hopie. She could not rescue Hopie, or even tell her what was up; they needed to act only when Tocsin did. So she learned the ways of the White Bubble staff, and served competently in her trusted capacity. Everything hinged on her performance when the crisis came.

  Spirit retreated to a private bubble. Now all she could do was observe, hoping that no serious glitch occurred. It was up to Hope, and Forta, and the Jupiter and Saturn Navies.

  The ships of the Jupiter Navy moved into place about Ganymede—and warships of Saturn appeared in Jupiter space. Abruptly there was a planetary crisis, for both these maneuvers were technically acts of war. Spirit knew that Hope had to act, without knowing whether Spirit had completed her preparations.

  Tocsin made a public broadcast, declaring a blockade. Then a new signal overrode it: Hope Hubris on a pirate broadcast. “Hello, people of Jupiter,” he said in English. “I am Hope Hubris, your former Tyrant. I was exiled five years ago, but now I have returned to resume the government of Jupiter.” He paused, glancing back. Roulette’s face was there.

  There was a delay of several seconds, because Ganymede was three light seconds out from Jupiter. He was waiting for the public reaction. Then Hope spoke again, smiling. “I see you remember me.” Music played as a background to his voice. “You also know that your current government has descended rapidly into corruption and incompetence. Industrial efficiency has declined. The planetary debt is rising. Freedom of the press has been curtailed. In fact, the leading critic of my day, Thorley, is now in prison.” This time he paused for a full ten seconds to let the reaction come.

  Rue was watching Hope, sending out signals of wonder and joy. The monitor of the number of sets tuned in to Hope’s broadcast was rising rapidly; he had started on a preemptive basis, but now they were seeking him.

  Spirit knew that Tocsin would be barking orders between curses. Hope had only a few more minutes before he got cut off; he had to
make them count.

  “I was deposed by my wife, Megan. I have known many women, and some have been beautiful.” He glanced across at Rue. The rest of her was now being picked up, and she was bare breasted. In six seconds the response would go crazy! Hope had always been a good showman. “But the one I most truly respect is my wife, and she is the one I still heed.” He peered into the holo as if searching for a particular person, while the sound did indeed go crazy, on its delayed response to Roulette. “Megan! Are you on?”

  The seconds passed, and abruptly the sound abated, as if every watcher were holding his breath. Then Hope’s wife did indeed appear, hardly even seeming surprised. She was now past seventy, but still a handsome woman. “Megan,” Hope said to her. “Do you still oppose—”

  Tocsin cut in. “Mrs. Hubris. You cannot allow this dictator to return!”

  Now Hope was silent too, along with Jupiter, awaiting her reaction.

  Megan turned her gaze on Tocsin, her ancient enemy. She said no word. Then she turned her back on him.

  The holo cut off. Tocsin’s technicians had established their intercept, and Hope’s broadcast could no longer get through. But it had been enough. Megan would not oppose him-and the people of Jupiter knew it.

  Spirit relaxed, for the present. The appearance of the Saturn ships had nullified Tocsin’s siege of Ganymede; the Jupiter Navy was now outgunned in this region of space. Ploy and counterploy; it was not the first time this had occurred here. But now the Saturn ships were spreading out to menace Jupiter itself. That was the muscle behind the takeover of the planet; Hope’s words were merely the declaration of intent, while Saturn was the mechanism. The Triton Project needed the resources of Jupiter, and Tocsin had made it plain that the present government would never join.

  How had the Saturn ships been able to spread without molestation? That was where Spirit’s advance work had come in. The interference points. Naturally Tocsin had ordered action, but somehow the task forces had gone astray. Orders had been confused, and foul-ups had occurred. Not one Jupiter ship had fired on a Saturn ship. That was part of what had kept Tocsin occupied during the interim; he had realized that the Jupiter Navy had been partially subverted.

  But the true balance of terror lay with the subs. Largely invisible, the subs of each planet surrounded the other, ready to fire their missiles and lasers and blast the enemy cities out of atmosphere or space. The System had lived for centuries under that threat, and no one liked it, but there had been no way to escape it. Until now. That was another reason that the Triton Project was so important. It was why this terrible risk was necessary.

  A day later, Hope broadcast again, the technicians having nullified Tocsin’s jamming. “This is the Tyrant, again. As I explained yesterday, the government of Jupiter has been corrupted. I charge Tocsin with treason against the planet of Jupiter, and I require him to step down and turn himself in for justice. How say you, Tocsin?”

  Tocsin, thus challenged, came on. But he seemed neither astonished nor dismayed. “Tyrant, you think you have won,” he rasped. “But you’ve lost. You think your friend on Saturn supports you, but he doesn’t.”

  “He supports me,” Hope asserted. “I am acting as the representative of the Triton Project, and will govern Jupiter as a supporting planet, not as a conquest of Saturn.”

  “You fool, he doesn’t support you because he can’t support you!” Tocsin shouted. “Because he is dead!”

  Spirit stared at the screen. What was this?

  “Chairman Khukov was assassinated this morning.”

  Spirit was stricken. She knew immediately that Tocsin had conspired with the nomenklatura to do it, timing his fell strike as precisely as Hope had timed his own action. At one stroke, Tocsin had deprived her of her lover, Hope of the vital support of Saturn, and the System of the Dream.

  Tocsin watched Hope in silence, a cruel smile playing about his homely face. He was savoring this moment of victory over the man who had deposed him once and threatened to do so again. All Jupiter was watching.

  What could they do? Spirit had prepared for Tocsin’s threat to Hopie, but she had underestimated the man. He had struck in more than one direction.

  Then she realized that Forta was in the White Bubble, and armed. She would know what to do about Tocsin. She would assassinate him. It might not restore the Dream, but it would punish the man who had destroyed it.

  But Hope had another answer. “Saturn fleet! Chairman Khukov is dead. He supported me; I still support him. I am doing what he wanted to be done. I am assuming direct command of the fleet. You will answer to me exactly as you have been doing.” He did not ask the commanders of that fleet, he simply told them, not giving them the chance to think about it. Probably Roulette, the pirate lass, had told him what he had to do.

  Could this work? Spirit watched the screen, hoping.

  “Jupiter Navy,” Hope said next. “I am similarly assuming command over you. I hereby depose your present admirals, and elevate those of my choosing. Specifically, Admiral Lundgren is retired as of this instant, and Admiral Emerald Mondy restored to that command.”

  “You can’t do that!” Tocsin protested. “You have no base! No authority!”

  Hope ignored him. He continued to name particular admirals for retirement and restoration, drawing on the names Spirit had provided. “You will cooperate with the Saturn Navy to safeguard the planet of Jupiter from attack. My aide, Roulette Phist, will provide the details of the transition and assignment.”

  “Countermand!” Tocsin exclaimed, realizing what Hope was doing. “There is no legal basis for this action!”

  Spirit smiled grimly. They were way beyond legalities at this point.

  “I am not basing this on legality, but on power,” Hope said. “The officers of the Jupiter Navy know what is best for the Navy, and the people of Jupiter know what is best for Jupiter. Participation in the Triton Project is best.” Then he launched into the major aspect of his presentation. “As many of you already know, Chairman Khukov of Saturn had a Dream. He shared it with me, and I am sharing it with, you. It is the Dream of peace and prosperity for all men. It is the abolition of oppression, restriction, and hunger.” He continued, making the point: lightspeed expansion into the galaxy would solve most of mankind’s problems. “Are you with me, people of Jupiter?”

  The response was huge: the people were with him. Despite the recent censorship, they had known what was happening elsewhere in the system, and how Jupiter was being left behind. They wanted the Dream.

  “It’s a lie!” Tocsin shouted. “He’s just making it up so as to seize power for himself!”

  Hope was ready for that. He dropped his pants, showing his scarred legs. “I have only a few years to live, because my sites are running out; when I can no longer be dialyzed, I shall die. I have no further use for power, other than to forward the Dream.”

  Tocsin threatened to use the Jupiter subs to attack Saturn. Hope was ready for that too. “People of Saturn, I, Hope Hubris, the Tyrant, am assuming the office vacated by my friend Khukov, who is dead. My purpose is to stabilize the government of North Saturn and bring the assassins to justice. The fleets of Jupiter and Saturn support me, and I am preventing the Jupiter subs from attacking the planet. In the interim I appoint Khukov’s most trusted deputy to maintain the present government on a standby basis, until my return to Saturn.” He named the deputy; he was a competent and loyal man who did not aspire to power for himself.

  Spirit knew that Hope’s power over these planets was being constructed largely on bluff and imagination, but it seemed to be working. In this moment of crisis, they had no better figure to turn to. It was the special magic he had with any audience. They knew they could trust him to do as he promised, and he promised justice and the Dream. It was an easy compromise to make.

  But Tocsin was not yet finished. Indeed, he seemed to have recovered his bravado. “I have a little ace in the hole here, Hubris,” he said nastily. “You don’t dare order this dome destroyed.�
� And he played his ace: Hopie, captive. She was now a woman of thirty, pretty enough, with her dark hair flowing about her face.

  “Don’t do it, Daddy,” Hopie said. “Don’t let him have his way. I can die if I have to.”

  “You don’t respond, Tyrant?” Tocsin inquired. “Then I will encourage you. Surrender yourself for arrest, or I will have this woman dispatched before your eyes. Guard!”

  And at that a female guard stepped up, carrying a laser pistol. Slowly the woman raised her pistol, until it pointed at Hopie’s head.

  Hope looked—and Spirit saw the glint in his eye as he recognized Forta, and understood. “Give your order, hemorrhoid,” he said.

  And Forta’s pistol pointed at Toxin. She could take him out before any other guard could rescue him. She put her free hand to her face and drew off her mask, revealing her scarred features.

  Tocsin stared at her. Now he knew he had lost. He was not the suicidal type; he always made the best deal he could, in whatever circumstances existed. “Exile,” he said.