CHAPTER XI. There was a disturbing air which was shared by all the members of Hoddan's crew on the way to Walden. It was not exactly reluctance, because there was a self-evident enthusiasm over the idea of making a pirate voyage under him. So far as past enterprises were concerned, Hoddan, as a leader, was the answer to Adarthian gentlemen's prayer. The partial looting of Geck's castle alone would have made him a desirable leader, but a crew of seven returned from space had displayed currency which amounted to the wealth of fabled Ind. Nobody knew what Ind was any longer, but it was a synonym for fabulous and uncountable riches. When men went off with Hoddan, they came back rich. But nevertheless there was an uncomfortable sort of atmosphere in the removed yacht. They trans-shipped from the space boat to the yacht through lifeboat tubes. And they were quite docile about it because none of them knew how to get back to ground. Hoddan left the space boat with a triggerable timing signal set for use on his return. He'd done a similar thing off-crim. He drove the little yacht well out, until Darth was only a spotted ball with visible clouds and ice caps. Then he lined up for Walden, direct, and went into overdrive. Within hours he noted the disturbing feel of things. His followers were not happy. They moped. They sat in corners and submerged themselves in misery. Large, massive men with drooping blonde mustaches, ideal characters for the roles of pirates, tended to squeeze tears out of their eyes at odd moments. When the ship was twelve hours on its way, the atmosphere inside it was funerial. The spearmen did not even gorge themselves on the food with which the yacht was stocked, and when a Darthian gentleman lost his appetite, something had to be wrong. He called Fowl into the control room. What's the matter with the gang? He demanded vexedly. They'd look at me as if I'd broken all their hearts. Do they want to go back? Fowl heaved a sigh indicating depression besides which suicidal mania would be hilarity. He said pathetically, We cannot go back. We cannot ever return to Darth. We are lost men doomed to wander forever among strangers or to float as corpses between the stars. What happened? demanded Hoddan. I'm taking you on a pirate cruise where the loot should be a lot better than last time. Thal wept. Hoddan astonishly regarded his whiskery countenance contorted with grief and dampened with tears. It happened at the castle, said Thal miserably. The men Derek from Walden had thrown a bomb at you. You seemed to be dead, but Don Loris was not sure. He fretted as he does. He wished to send someone to make sure. The Lady Fani said, I will make sure. She called me to her and said, Thal, will you fight for me? And there was Don Loris suddenly nodding beside her. So I said yes, my Lady Fani. Then she said, Thank you. I am troubled by Bran Hoddan. So what could I do? She said the same thing to each of us. And each of us had to say that he would fight for her. To each she said that she was troubled by you. Then Don Loris sent us out to look at your body. And now we are disgraced. Hoddan's mouth opened and closed again. He remembered this item of Dorothy and etiquette. If a girl asked a man if he would fight for her and he agreed, then within a day and a night he had to fight the man she sent him to fight, or else he was disgraced. The disgrace on Dorothy meant that the shamed man could be plundered or killed by anybody who chose to do so. But he would be hanged by indignant authority if he resisted. It was a great deal worse than outlawry. It included scorn and contempt and abroperium. It meant dishonor and humiliation and admitted degradation. A disgraced man was despicable in his own eyes, and Hoddan had kidnapped these men who had been forced to engage themselves to fight him.  The moral tone on Dorothy was probably not elevated, but etiquette was a force. Hoddan thought it over. He looked up suddenly. Some of them, he said rightly, probably figured there's nothing to do but go through with it, huh? Yes, said Thaldismaly. Then we will all die. Hmm, said Hoddan. The obligation is to fight.  If you're conquered, you're in the clear? Thald said miserably. True to true, when a man is conquered, he is conquered. His conqueror may plunder him when the matter is finished, or he can spare him, when he may never fight his conqueror again. Draw your knife, said Hoddan. Come at me. Thald bewilderedly made the gesture. Hoddan leveled a stun pistol and said, Bzzz, you're conquered.  It's all over, right? Thald gaped at him. Then he beamed. He expanded. He gloated. He frisked. He practically wagged a non-existent tail in his exuberance. He'd been shonen out when he could see none. Send in the others one by one, said Hoddan. I'll take care of them. But Thal, why did the lady find he want me killed? Thal had no idea, but he did not care. Hoddan did care. He was bewildered and inclined to be indignant. A noble friendship like theirs, a spearman, came in and saluted. Hoddan went through a symbolic duel which was plainly the way the thing would have happened in reality. Others came in and went through the same process. Two of them did not quite grasp that it was a ritual and he had to shoot them in the nightfall. Then he hunted in the ship supplies for ointment for the blisters that would appear from stunt-pistol bolts at such short range. As he bandaged the places, he again tried to find out why the lady finding had tried to get him carved up by the large bladed knives all Dorothy and gentlemen wore, but nobody could enlighten them. But the atmosphere improved remarkably. Since each theoretic fight had taken place in private, nobody was obliged to admit a compromise with etiquette. Hoddan's followers ceased to brew. They developed huge appetites. Those who had been aground on crim told zestfully of the monstrous hangovers they'd acquired there. It appeared that Hoddan was revered for the size of the benders he enabled his followers to hang on. But there remained the fact that the lady Fani had tried to get him massacred. He puzzled over it. The little yacht sped through space toward Walden. He tried to think how he defended Fani. He could think of nothing. He set to work on a new electronic setup which would make still another modification of the Lawler space drive possible. In the others, groups of electronic components were cut out and others substituted in rather tricky fashion from the control board. This was trickiest of all. It required the homemade vacuum tube to burn steadily when in use. But it was a very simple idea. Lawler drive and landing grid force fields were formed by not dissimilar generators, and ball lightning force fields were in the same general family of phenomena. Suppose one made the field generator that had to be on a ship if it was to drive at all, capable of all those allied associated similar force field. If a ship could make the fields that landing grids did, it should be useful to pirates. Hoddan's present errand was neither pure nor simple piracy, but piracy it would be. The more he considered the obligation he'd taken on himself when he helped the emigrant fleet, the more he doubted that he could lift it without long struggle. He was preparing to carry on that struggle for a long time. He'd more or less resigned himself to the postponement of his personal desires. Netta, for example, wasn't quite sure. Perhaps after all. But time passed, and he finished his electronic job. He came out of overdrive and made his observations and corrected his course. Finally there came a moment when the fiery ball, which was Walden's son, shone brightly in the vision plates. He'd writhe and spun in the vast silence of emptiness. Hoddan drove to a point still above the five-diameter limit of Walden. He interestingly switched on the control which made his drive unit manufacture landing-gribbed type force fields. He groped for Walden, and felt the peculiar rigidity of the ship when the field took hold somewhere underground. He made an adjustment, and felt the ship respond. Instead of pulling ship to ground, in the setup he'd made, the new force fields pulled the ground toward the ship. When he reversed the adjustment, instead of pushing the ship away to empty space, the new field pushed the planet. There was no practical difference, of course. The effect was simply that the space yacht now carried its own landing-grid. It could descend anywhere and ascend from anywhere without using rockets. Moreover, it could hover without using power. Hoddan was pleased. He took the yacht down to a bare 400-mile altitude. He stopped it there. It was highly satisfactory. He made quite certain that everything worked as it should. Then he made a call on the space communicator. Calling ground, said Hoddan. Calling ground. Pirate ship calling ground. He waited for an answer. Now he'd find out the result of very much effort in planning. He was apprehensive, of course. There was much responsibility on his shoulders. It was the liner he'd captured and looted and given to the emigrants. There were his followers on the yacht, now enthusiastically sharpening their two-foot-knife blades in the expectation of loot. He owed these people something. For an instant he thought of the Lady Fani and wondered how he could make reparation to her for whatever had hurt her feelings, so she tried to get his throat cut. A whining, bitterly unhappy voice came to him. Pirate ship, said the voice, plaintively. We've received the fleets warning. Please state where you intend to descend, and we will take measures to prevent disorder. Repeat. Please state where you intend to descend, and we will take measures to prevent disorder.  He named a spot, a high-income residential small city some forty miles from the planetary capital. He set his controls for a very gradual descent. He went out to where his followers made grisly, zinging noises where they honed their knives. We'll land, said Hoddan sternly, in about three-quarters of an hour. You will go ashore and loot in parties of not less than three. Thou, you will be shipguard and receive the plunder and make sure nobody from Walden gets on board. You will not waste time committing atrocities on the population. He went back to the control room. He turned to general communication bans and listened to the broadcast down below. Special Emergency Bulletin Boomed a voice. Pirates are landing in the city of Ennsfield, forty miles from Walden City. The population is instructed to evacuate immediately, leaving all action to the police. Repeat. The population will evacuate Ennsfield, leaving all action to the police. Take nothing with you. Take nothing with you. Leave at once. Hoddan nodded approvingly. The voice boomed again. Special Emergency Bulletin. Pirates are landing. Evacuate. Take nothing with you. Leave at once. He turned to another channel. An excited voice barked. Seems to be the only one pirate ship which has been located hovering in an unknown manner over Ennsfield. We are rushing camera crews to the spot and will try to give on the spot as it happens coverage of the landing of pirates on Walden. Their looting of the city of Ennsfield and the traffic jams inevitable in the departure of the citizens before the pirate ship touches ground. For background information on this most exciting event in planetary history, I take you to our editorial rooms. Another voice took over instantly. It will be remembered that some days since the gigantic pirate fleet then overhead sent down the communication to the planetary government, warning that single ships would appear to loot and giving notice that any resistance, Hoddan felt it contented heartwarming glow. The emigrant fleet had most faithfully carried out its leaders' promise to let down a letter from space while in orbit around Walden. The emigrants, of course, did not know the contents of the letter. They would not send anybody down to ground because of the temptations to sin in societies other than their own. Blithely and cheerfully and dutifully. They would give the appearance of monstrous piratical strength. They would awe Walden thoroughly. And then they'd go on, faithfully leaving similar letters and similar impressions on Krim and Lohalla and Tralee and Famagusta and throughout the Colesack stars until the stock of addressed missives ran out. They would perform this kindly act out of gratitude to Hoddan. And every other planet they visited would be left with the impression that the fleet overhead was that of bloodthirsty space marauders who would presently send single ships to collect loot, which must be yielded without resistance. Such looting expeditions were to be looked for regularly and must be submitted to under penalty of unthinkable retribution from the monster fleet of space. Now as the yacht descended on Walden, it represented that mythical but impressive piratical empire of Hoddan's contrivance. He listened with genuine pleasure to the broadcast. When low enough he even picked up the pictures of highways thronged with fugitives from the too-be-looted town. He saw Waldenian police directing the traffic of flight. He saw other traffic heading toward the city. Walden was the most highly civilized planet in the Nermi cluster, and its citizens had no worries at all except about tranquilizers to enable them to stand it. When something genuinely exciting turned up, they wanted to be there to see it. The yacht descended below the clouds. Hoddan turned on an emergency flare to make a landing by. Sitting in the control room, he saw his own ship as the broadcast cameras picked it up and related to millions of homes. He was impressed. It was a glaring eye of fierce light, descending deliberately with a dark and mysterious spacecraft behind it. He heard the chatter on the spot news accounts of the happening. He saw the people who had not left Ensfield joined by avid visitors. He saw all of them held back by police, who frantically shepherded them away from the area in which the pirates should begin their hard work. Hoddan even watched pleasurably from his control room as the broadcast cameras daringly showed the actual touchdown of the ship. The dramatic slow opening of its entrance port, the appearance of authentic pirates in the opening armed to the teeth, bristling ferociously glaring about them at hair-silent, hair-deserted streets of the city left to their mercy. It was a splendid broadcast. Hoddan would have liked to stay and watch all of it. But he had work to do. He had to supervise the piratical raid. It was, as it turned out, simple enough. Looting parties of three pirates each moved skulking about seeking plunder. Quaking cameramen dared to ask them in shaking voices to pose for the news cameras. It was a request no Darthian gentlemen, even in an act of piracy, could possibly refuse. They posed, making pictures of malignant ruffianism. Commentators, adding informed comment to delectably thrilling pictures, observed that the pirates wore Darthian costume but observed crisply that this did not mean that Darth as an entity had turned pirate, but only that some of her citizens had joined the pirate fleet. The camera crews then asked apologetically if they would permit themselves to be broadcast in the act of looting, growling savagely for the public and occasionally adding a fiendish ha. They obliged. The camera crews helped pick out good places to loot for the sake of good pictures. The pirates cooperated in fine, dramatic style, millions watching the decision sets all over the planet shivered in delicious horror as the pirates went about their nefarious enterprise. Presently the press of onlookers could not be held back by the police. They surrounded the pirates, some greatly daring, asked for autographs. Girls watched them with round, frightened, fascinated eyes. Younger men founded vastly thrilling to carry burdens of loot back to the pirate ship for them. Thal complained hoarsely that the ship was getting overloaded. Hoddan ordered greater discrimination, but his pirates by this time were in the position of directors rather than looters themselves. Romantic Waldinian admirers smashed windows and brought them treasure for the reward of scowling acceptance.  The pirate ship was loaded. It was then the center of an agitated, excited, enthusiastic crowd. He called back his men. One party of three did not return. He took two others and fought his way through the mob. He found the trio backed against a wall while hysterically adoring girls struggled to seize scraps of their garments for mementos of real-life pirates looting a Waldinian town. But Hoddan got them back to the ship, in confusion tending toward the blushful. Their clothes were shreds. He fought away clear for them to get into the ship. He fought his way in. Cheers rose from the onlookers.  Then the piratical space yacht rose swiftly toward the stars. An hour later there was barely any demunation of the excitement inside the ship. Dorothy and gentlemen all, Hoddan's followers still gazed and floated over the plundered tucked everywhere. It crowded the living quarters. It threatened to interfere with the astrogation of the ship. Hoddan came out of the control room and was annoyed. Break it up, he snapped. Pack that stuff away somewhere. What do you think this is? Val cased at him abstractly, not quite able to tear his mind and thoughts from this completely unimaginable mass of wonder. Then intelligence came into his eyes. As much as could appear there, he grinned suddenly. He slapped his thigh. Boys, he gurgled. He don't know what we got for him. One man looked up. Two, they bean. They got to their feet, gripping jewelry. Val went pondrously to one of the two owner's state rooms the yacht retained. At the door he turned, expansively. She came to the port, he said exuberantly, and said we were wearing clothes like they were on D'arth. Did we come from there? I said we did. Then she said, did we know somebody named Abran Hoddan on D'arth? And I said we did. And if she'd step inside, the ship she'd meet you. And here she is. He unfastened the state room door. The merchant had barred from without. He opened it. He looked in and grabbed and pulled at something.  He groaned as the something inside the state room sobbed and yielded. Thal brought Netta out into the saloon of the yacht. Her nose and eyes were red from terrified weeping. She gazed about her in purest despairing horror. She did not see Hoddan for a moment.  She wailed. Hoddan swallowed, with much difficulty, and said sickly, It's all right, Netta. It was a mistake. Nothing will happen to you. You're quite any new with desperate certainty that it was true. Safe with me. And she was. CHAPTER XII. Hoddan stopped off at Krim by landing-grid to consult his lawyers. He felt a certain amount of hope of good results from his raid on Walden, but he was desperate about Netta. Once she was confident of her safety under his protection, she took over the operation of the spaceship. She displayed an overwhelming saccharinity that was appalling. She was sweetness and light among criminals who respectfully did not harm her, and she sweetened and lightened the atmosphere of the space yacht until Hoddan's followers were close to mutiny.  But she wants to make a nice girl out of me. Hoddan himself cringed from her society. He could gladly have put her ashore on Krim with ample funds to return to Walden. But she was prettily, reproachfully helpless. If he did put her ashore, she would confide her kidnapping and the lovely behavior of the pirates until nobody would believe in them any more, which would be fail. He went to his lawyers, brooding. The news astounded him. The emigrant fleet had appeared over Krim on the way to Walden. Before it appeared, Hoddan's affairs had been prosperous enough. Right after his previous visit, news had come of the daring piratical raid which captured a ship off Walden. This was the liner Hoddan brought into Krim. All merchants and shipowners immediately ensured all vessels and goods in space transit had much higher valuations. The risk insurance stocks brought on Hoddan's account had multiplied in value. Obeying his instructions, his lawyers had sold them out and held a pleasing fortune in trust for Hoddan. Then came the fleet over Krim, with its letter threatening planetary destruction if resistance was offered to single ships which would land and loot later on. It seemed that all commerce was at the mercy of space marauders. Risk insurance companies had undertaken to indemnify the owners of ships and freight in emptiness. Now that an unprecedented pirate fleet ranged and doubtless ravaged the skyways, the insurance companies ought to go bankrupt. Owners of stock in them dumped it at any price to get rid of it. In accordance with Hoddan's instructions, though, his lawyers had faithfully, if distastefully, brought it in. To use up the funds available, they had to buy up not only all the stock of all the risk insurance companies of Krim, but all stock in all off-planet companies owned by investors on Krim. In time passed, and ships in space arrived unmolested in port. Cargos were delivered intact. Insurers observed that the risk insurance companies had not collapsed and could still pay off if necessary. They continued their insurance. Risk companies appeared financially sound once more. They had more business than ever, and no more claims than usual. Suddenly their stocks went up, or rather, what people were willing to pay for them went up, because Hoddan had forbidden the sale of any stock after the pirate fleet appeared. Now he asked, hopefully, if he could reimburse the owners of the ship he'd captured off Walden. He could. Could he pay them even the profit they'd made between the loss of their ship and the arrival of a replacement? He could. Could he pay off the shippers of Regillian Furs and Jewelry from the Cetis Stars, and the owners of the bulk melisons that had brought so good a price on Krim? He could. In fact, he had. The insurance companies he now owned, lock, stock, and barrel had already paid the claims on the ship and its cargo, and it would be rather officious to add to that reimbursement. Hoddan was abruptly appalled. He insisted on a bonus being paid, regardless, which his lawyers had some trouble finding a legal fiction to fit. Then he brooded over his position. He wasn't a businessman. He hadn't expected to make out so well. He thought to have to labor for years, perhaps, to make good the injury he'd done the ship owners and merchants in order to help the immigrants from Cullen. It was all done, and here he was with a fortune and the framework of a burgeoning financial empire. He didn't like it. Gloomily, he explained matters to his attorneys. They pointed out that he had a duty, an obligation from the nature of his unexpected success. If he let things go now, the currently thriving business of risk insurance would return to its former unimportance. His companies had taken on extra help. More bookkeepers and accountants worked for him this week than last. More mail clerks, secretaries, janitors, and scrub women. Even more vice presidents. He would administer a serious blow to the economy of crime if he caused a slackening of employment by letting his companies go to pot. A slackening of employment would cause a drop in retail trade, an increase in inventories, a depression in industry. Hoddan thought gloomily of his grandfather. He'd written to the old gentleman, and the emigrant fleet would have delivered the letter. He couldn't disappoint his grandfather. He morbidly accepted his attorney's advice, and they arranged immediately to take over the 41st as well as the 42nd and 3rd floors of the building their offices were in. Commerce would march on. And Hoddan headed for Darth. He had to return his crew, and there was something else. Several somethings else. He arrived in that solar system and put his yacht in a search orbit. Listening for the call signal the space boat should give for him to Homer. He found it, deep within the gravity field of Darth. He maneuvered to come alongside, and there was blinding light everywhere. Alarms rang, lights went out, instruments registered impossibilities. The rockets fired crazily, and the whole ship reeled. Then a voice roared out of the communicator. Stand and deliver, surrender and you'll be allowed to go to ground. But if you even hesitate I'll hurl you and heave you out to space without a spacesuit. Hoddan winced. Stray sparks had flown about everywhere inside the space yacht. A ball lightning bolt, even of only warning size, makes things uncomfortable when it strikes. Hoddan's fingers tingled as if they'd been asleep. He threw on the transmitter switch and said annoyedly, Hello, grandfather, this is Bronn. Have you been waiting for me long? He heard his grandfather swear disgustedly.  Hoddan threw a switch and used a landing-grid field he'd used on Walden in another faction. The ships came together with fine precision. Lifeboat tube to lifeboat tube. He heard his grandfather swear in amazement. That's a little trick I worked out, grandfather. Said Hoddan into the transmitter. Come aboard, I'll pass it on. His grandfather presently appeared, scowling and suspicious. His eyes shrewdly examined everything, including the loot tucked in every available space. He snorted. All honestly come by, said Hoddan morbidly. It seems I've got a license to steal. I'm not sure what to do with it. His grandfather stared at a placard on the wall. It said, actually, remember, a lady is present. Netta had put it up. Hmm, said his grandfather. What's a woman doing on a pirate ship? That's what your letter talked about. Viguran, said Hoddan, wincing, like mice. You've had mice on a ship, haven't you? Come in the control room and I'll explain. He did explain. Up to the point where his arrangements to pave back for a ship and cargo he'd given away turned into a runaway success. And now he was responsible for the employment of innumerable bookkeepers and clerks and such in the insurance companies he'd come to own. There was also the fact that, as the emigrant fleet went on, some fifty more planets in all would require the attention of pirate ships from time to time. Or there would be disillusionment and injury to the economic system. Organization, said his grandfather, does wonders for the tender conscience like you've got. What else? Hoddan explained the matters of his Darthian crew. Don Loris might affect to consider them disgraced because they hadn't cut his throat. Hoddan had to take care of the matter. And there was Netta. Fani came into the story somehow, too. Hoddan's grandfather grunted at the end. We'll go down and talk to this Don Loris, he said pugnaciously. I've dealt with his kind before. While we're down, your cousin Oliver will take a look at this new grid-field job. We'll put it on my ship. How about the time down below? Never land long after daybreak. Early in the morning people ain't at their best. Don looked at Darth, rotating deliberately below him. It's not too late, sir, he said. Will you follow me down? His grandfather nodded briskly, took another comprehensive look at the loot from Walden, and crawled back through the tube to his own ship. So it was not too long after dawn in that time zone when a sentry on the battlements of Don Loris Castle felt a shadow over his head. He jumped a foot and stared upward.  He stared, unable to move a muscle. There was a ship above him. It was not a large ship, but he could not judge of such matters. It was not supported by rockets. It should have been falling horribly to smash him under its weight. It wasn't. Instead it floated on with very fine precision, like a ship being landed by grid and settled delicately to the ground some fifty yards from the base of the castle wall. Immediately thereafter there was a muttering roar. It grew to a howl, a bellow. It became thunder. It increased from that to a noise so stupendous that it ceased altogether to be heard, and it was only felt as a deep toned battering at one's chest. When it ended there was a second ship resting in the middle of a very large scorched place close by the first. Neither of these ships was a space boat. The silently landed vessel, which was the smaller of the two, was several times the sizes of the only spacecraft ever seen on dark outside the spaceport. Its design was somehow suggestive of a yacht. The other, larger ship, was blunt and soiled in space-worn, with patches on its plating here and there. A landing ramp dropped down from the battered craft. It neatly spanned the scorched and still-smoking patch of soil. A port opened. Men came out. Following a jaunty small figure with belligerent gray whiskers, they dragged an enigmatic object behind them. Hoddan came out of the yacht. His grandfather said waspishly, "'This the castle?' He waved at the massive pile of cut-gray stone, with the walls twenty feet thick and sixty high. "'Yes, sir,' said Hoddan. "'Ah,' snorted his grandfather. "'Looks flimsy to me.' He waved his hand again. "'You'll remember your cousins.' Familiar matter-of-fact nods came from the men of the battered ship. Hoddan hadn't seen any of them for years, but they were his companion. They wore commonplace, work-a-day garments, but carried weapons slung negligently over their shoulders. They dragged the cryptic object behind them without particular formation or apparent discipline. But somehow they looked capable. Hoddan and his grandfather strolled to the castle gate, their companions a little to their rear. They came to the gate. Nothing happened. Nobody challenged. There was the feel of peevish refusal to associate with persons who landed in spaceships. "'Shall we hail?' asked Hoddan. "'Nah,' snorted his grandfather. "'I know his kind. Make him make the advances.' He waved to his descendants. "'Open it up!' Somebody casually pulled back a cover and reached in and threw switches. "'Found a power-broadcast unit,' grunted Hoddan's grandfather. "'On a ship we took. Hooked it to the ship's space-drive. When you can't use the space-drive, you still got power. Your cousin Oliver whipped this thing up to use it.' The enigmatic object made a spiteful noise. The castle gate shuttered and fell half way from its hinges. The thing made a second noise. Stone splintered and began to collapse, Hoddan admired. Three more unpleasing but not violently loud sounds. Half the wall on either side of the gate was rubble, collapsing partly inside and partly outside the castle's proper boundary. Figures began to wave hysterically from the battlements. Hoddan's grandfather yawned slightly. "'I always like to talk to people,' he observed, when they're worrying about what I'm likely to do to them instead of what maybe they can do to me.' Figures appeared on the ground level. They'd come out of a sally-port to one side. They were even extravagantly cordial when Hoddan's grandfather admitted that it might be convenient to talk over his business inside the castle, where there would be an easy chair to sit in. Suddenly they sat beside the fireplace in the great hall. Don Loris, jittering, shivered next to Hoddan's grandfather. The Lady Fani appeared, icy cold and defiant. She walked with frigid dignity to a place beside her father. Hoddan's grandfather regarded her with a wicked estimating gaze. "'Not bad,' he said brightly. "'Not bad at all!' then he turned to Hoddan. "'Those retainers coming?' "'On the way,' said Hoddan. He was not happy. The Lady Fani had passed her eyes over him exactly as if he did not exist. There was a murmurous noise. The dozen spearmen came marching into the great hall. They carried loot. It dripped on the floor, and they blandly ignored such things as stray golden coins falling off away from them. Stay at home, inhabitants of the castle, gazed at them in joyous wonderment. Neda came with them. The Lady Fani made a very slight, almost imperceptible movement. Hoddan said desperately, "'Fani, I know you hate me, though I can't guess why. But here's the thing that has to be taken care of. We made a raid on Walden. That's where this loot came from. And my men kidnapped this girl. Her name is Neda. And they brought her on the ship as a present to me, because she admitted she knew me.' "'Neda's in an awful fix, Fani. She's alone and friendless, and somebody has to take care of her. Her father will come for her eventually, no doubt, but somebody's got to take care of her in the meantime, and I can't do it.' Ron felt hysterical at the bear idea. "'I can't!' The Lady Fani looked at Neda, and Neda wore the brave look of a girl so determinately sweet that nobody could possibly bear it. "'I'm very sorry,' said Neda bravely, that I've been the cause of poor Bron turning pirate and getting into such stressful trouble. I cry over it every night before I go to sleep. He treated me as if I were his sister, and the other men were so gentle and respectful that I think it will break my heart when they are punished. And I think of them being executed with all that dreary hopeless formality.' "'Undarred,' said the Lady Fani practically. "'We are not very formal about such things. Just cutting somebody's throat is usually enough. But he treated you like a sister, did he, Thal?' Thal swallowed. He'd been beaming a moment before with his arms full of silver plate, jewelry, laces, and other bits of booty from the town events field. But now he said desperately, "'Yes, Lady Fani, but not the way it I'd have treated my sister.  I'm fond of them, but if one of my sisters ever lectured me because I wasn't refined, or shook a finger at me because I wasn't gentlemanly, Lady Fani I'd have strangled her.'" There was a certain gleam in the Lady Fani's eye as she said warmly to Hoddan. "'Of course I'll take care of the poor thing. I'll let her sleep with my maids, and I'm sure one of them can spare clothes for her to wear. Then I'll take care of her until the space-liner comes long and she can be shipped back to her family. And you can come see her whenever you please, to make sure she's all right.'" Hoddan's eyes tended to grow wild. His grandfather cleared his throat loudly. Hoddan said doggedly, "'You, Fani, ask each of my men if they'd fight for you.' They said, yes. You sent them to cut my throat. They didn't. But they're not disgraced. I want that clear. They're good men. They're not disgraced for failing to assassinate me." "'Of course they aren't,' conceded the Lady Fani sweetly. Who ever heard of such a thing?' Hoddan wiped his forehead. Don Loris opened his mouth fretfully. Hoddan's grandfather forestalled him. "'You've heard about that big pirate fleet that's been floating around these parts, huh? It's my grandsons. I run a squadron of it for them. Wonderful boy, my grandson. Bloodthirsty crews on those ships, but they love that boy. Very... Don Loris caught his breath. Very interesting. He likes your men,' confided Hoddan's grandfather, used him twice, says they make nice well-behaved pilots. He's going to give them stun pistols and cannon like the one that smashed your gate. Only men on Darthwood guns like that seize the spaceport and put in power broadcast and make sure nobody else gets stunned weapons. Run the country. Your men'll love it. Love that boy, too. Follow him anywhere. Loot!' Don Loris quivered. He was horribly plausible. He'd had the scheme of the only stun weapon armed force on Darth himself. He knew his men tended to revere Hoddan because of the plunder his followers seemed always to acquire. Don Loris was in a very, very uncomfortable situation. Board men from the battered spacecraft stood about his great hall. They were unimpressed. He knew that they, at least, were casually sure that they could bring his castle down about his ears in minutes if they chose. If my men, Don Loris quivered, what about me? Minor problem, said Hoddan's grandfather blandly. The usual thing would be to cut your throat, he rose. Decide that later, Don, no doubt. Yes, Bron? I brought back my men, rolls Hoddan. And Ned is taken care of. We're through here. He headed abruptly for the great halls far this door. His grandfather followed him briskly and the negligent, matter-of-fact armed men who were mostly Hoddan's first and second cousins came after them. Outside the castle, Hoddan said angrily. Why did you tell such a preposterous story, grandfather? It's not preposterous, said his grandfather. Sound like fun to me. You're tired now, Bron. Lots of responsibilities and such. Take a rest. You and your cousin Oliver get together and fix those new gadgets on my ship. I'll take the other boys for a run over to this spaceport town. The boys will need a run ashore, and there might be some loot. Your grandmother's fond of homespun. I'll try to pick some up for her. Hoddan shrugged. His grandfather was a law unto himself. Hoddan saw his cousins bringing horses from the castle stables, and a very casual group went riding away as if on a pleasure excursion. As a matter of fact it was, Thal guided them. For the rest of that morning and part of the afternoon, Hoddan and his cousin Oliver worked at the battered ship's Lawler Drive. Hoddan was pleased with his cousin's respect for his device. He unfanately admired the cannon his cousin had designed. Presently, they reminisced about their childhood. It was pleasant to renew family ties like this. The riders came back about sunset. There were extra horses with loads. There were cheerful shoutings. His grandfather came into Hoddan's ship. Brot box some company, he said. Spaceliner landed while we were there. Friend of yours on it. Congenio, fellow. Bron. Thinks well of you too. A large figure followed his grandfather in. A large figure with snow-white hair, the amiable and relaxed interstellar ambassador to Walden. I heard gated horses, Hoddan, he said, wryly. I want a chair and a drink. I travel a good many light years to see you, and it wasn't necessary after all. I've been talking to your grandfather. Glad to see you, sir, said Hoddan reservedly. His cousin Oliver brought glasses, and the ambassador buried his nose in his, and said in satisfaction, ah, that's good. Capable man, your grandfather, I watched him loot that town. Beautifully professional job. He's got some homespun sheets for your grandmother. But about you. Hoddan sat down. His grandfather puffed and was silent. His cousins effaced themselves. The ambassador waved a hand. I started here, he observed, because it looked to me like you were running wild. That's basically it now. I know something of your ability. I thought you'd contrived some way to fake it. I knew there couldn't be such a fleet. Not really. That was a sound job you did with the immigrants, by the way. Most praiseworthy. And the point was that if you ran hog-wild with a fake fleet, sooner or later the space patrol would have had to cut you down to size. And you were doing much too good work to be stopped. Hoddan blinked. Satisfaction, said the ambassador, is well enough. But say should he his death. Balden was dying on its feet. He could imagine a greater satisfaction than curling up with a good tranquilizer. You've ended that. I left Balden the day after at the Ennsfield raid. Young men were already trying to grow mustaches. The textile mills were making colored felt for garments. Jewelers were turning out stun-gun pins for ornaments. Darthian knives for brooches, and the songwriters had eight new tunes on the air about pirate lovers, pirate queens and dark ships that roamed the lanes of night. Three new Vision Play series were to start that same night with space piracy as their theme, and one of them claimed to be based on your life. Better make them pay for that, Hoddan. In short, Balden had rediscovered the pleasure to be had by taking pains to make a fool of oneself. People who watched that raid on vision screens had thrills they'd ever swapped for tranquilizers. And the ones who actually mixed in with the pirate raiders? We deserved well of the Republic, Hoddan. Hoddan said, hmm, because there was nothing else to be said. Now your grandfather and I have canvas the situation thoroughly. This good work must be continued. Diplomatic service has been worried all along the line. Now we've something to work up. Your grandfather will expand his facilities and snatch ships, land and loot and keep piracy flying. Your job is to carry on the insurance business. The ships that will be snatched will be your ships, of course. No interference with legitimate commerce. The landing raids will be paid for by the interplanetary piracy risk insurance companies. You. In time you'll probably have to get raiders to do scripts for them, but not right away. You'll continue to get rich, but there's no harm in that as long as you reintroduce romance and adventure and daring due to a galaxy headed for a decline. Guards will not invent themselves if there are plenty of heroic characters of your making to slap them down. Hoddan said painfully, I like working on electronic gadgets. My cousin Oliver and I have had some things we want to work on together. His grandfather snorted. One of the cousins came in from outside the yacht. Thal followed him, glowing. He'd reported the looting of the spaceport town and Don Loris had gone into a tantrum up to spare because nobody seemed able to make headway against these strangers. Now he turned about and issued a belated invitation to Hoddan and his grandfather and their guests the interstellar ambassador of whom he'd learned from Thal to dinner at the castle. They could bring their own guards. Hoddan would have refused, but the ambassador and his grandfather were insistent. Ultimately he found himself seated dreamily at a long table in a stone walled room lighted by very smoky torches. Don Loris, jittering, displayed a sort of professional conversational charm. He was making an urgent effort to overcome the bad effect of past actions by conversational brilliance. The Lady Fani sat quietly with jewels at her throat. She looked most often at her plate. The talk of the Oldsters became profound. They talked administration. They talked practical policies. They talked economics. The Lady Fani looked very bored as the talk went on after the meal was over. Don Loris said brightly to her, My dear, you must be tedious. Young Hoddan looks uninterested too. Why don't you two walk on the battlements and talk about such things as persons your age might find interesting? Hoddan rose gloomily. The Lady Fani, with a sigh of polite resignation, rose to accompany him. The ambassador said suddenly, Don, I forgot to tell you, they found out what killed that man outside the power station. When Hoddan showed no comprehension, the ambassador explained. The man your friend Derek thought was killed by death rays? It develops that he had gotten a terrific load on, you drunk, you know, and climbed a tree to escape the pink, purple, and green Doryas he thought were chasing him to gorem. He climbed too high, a branch broke, and he fell and was killed. I'll take it up with the cord when I get back to Walden. No reason to lock you up any more, you know. You might even sell the power board on using your receptor now. Thanks, said Hoddan politely. He added, Don Loris has that Derek and a cop from Walden here now. Tell them that, and they may go home. He accompanied the Lady Fani to the battlements. The stars were very bright. They strolled. Remembering his Darthians, he felt very unpopular. What was that the ambassador told you? She asked. He explained without zest. He added morbidly that it didn't matter. He could go back to Walden now, and if the ambassador was right, he could even accomplish things in electronics there. But he wasn't interested. It was odd that he'd once thought such things would make him happy. I thought, said the Lady Fani in Gentlemellon Collie, that I would be happier with you dead. You had made me very angry. No, no matter how. But I found it was not so. Hoddan fumbled for her meaning. It wasn't quite an apology for trying to get him killed, but at least it was a disclaimer of future intentions in that direction. And speaking of happiness, she added in a different tone. This Netta, he shuddered and she said, I talked to her. So then I sent for Ghek. Weren't perfectly good terms again, you know. I introduced him to Netta. She was vanilla ice cream with meringue and maple syrup on it. He loved it. She gazed at him with pretty sadness and told him how terrible it was of him to kidnap me. He said humbly that he'd never had her ennobling influence, nor dream that she existed. And she loved that. They go together like strawberries and cream.  I think I made a match. Then she said, tranquilly. But seriously.  You've everything you've ever said you wanted, except a delightful girl to marry. Hoddan squirmed. We're old friends, said Fanny kindly, and you did me a great favor once. I'll return it. I'll round up some really delightful girls for you to look over. I'm leaving, said Hoddan alarmed. The only thing is, I don't know what type you like. Netta isn't it. Hoddan shuddered. Nor I, said Fanny. What type would you say I was? Delightful, said Hoddan hoarsely. The lady Fanny stopped and looked up at him. She said approvingly, I hoped that word would occur to you one day. Er, what does a man usually do when he discovers a girl is delightful? Hoddan thought it over. He started. He put his arms around her with singularly little skill. He kissed her. But first as if amazed at himself, and then with enthusiasm. There were scraping sounds on the stone nearby, footsteps. Don Loris appeared gazing uncertainly about. Fanny, he said plaintatively, Hoddan, our guests are going to the spaceships. I want to speak privately to Hoddan. Yes, said Hoddan. Don Loris peered blindly about. He kissed Fanny again. I've been thinking, said Don Loris fretfully. I've made some mistakes, my dear boy. And I've given you an excellent reason to dislike me. But at the bottom I've always thought a great deal of you. And there seems to be only one way in which I can properly express how much I admire you. Er, how would you like to marry my daughter? Hoddan looked down at Fanny. She did not try to move away. What do you think of the idea, Fanny? He asked. How about marrying me tomorrow morning? Of course not, said Fanny indignantly. I wouldn't think of such a thing. I couldn't possibly get married before tomorrow afternoon. THE END