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Updated: May 13, 2025
Darth was not an important center of trade. Hoddan stared incredulously at the town outside one side of the grid. It was only a town and was almost a village, at that. Its houses had steep, gabled roofs, of which some seemed to be tile and others thatch. Its buildings leaned over the narrow streets, which were unpaved. They looked like mud.
If people are to thrive and multiply on new worlds as they are colonized, it's more convenient to modify the worlds to fit the colonists than the colonists to fit the worlds. Therefore Bron Hoddan encountered no remarkable features in the landscape of Darth as he rode through the deepening night. There was grass, which was not luxuriant. There were bushes, which were not unduly lush.
Hoddan's anger took on the feeling of guilt. He could do nothing, and something had to be done. "Why ... why did you come to Darth?" he asked. "What can you gain by orbiting here? You can't expect " The old man faced him. "We are beggars," he said with bitter dignity. "We stopped here to ask for charity for the old and worn-out machines the people of Darth can spare us.
At all times it moved visibly, while the spaceboat and the ships in orbit seemed merely to float in nearly fixed positions. When the dark part of Darth appeared to roll toward the spaceboat again all the bright specks which were ships about them winked out of sight and there were only faraway stars and a vast blackness off to one side like nothingness made visible.
We will be grateful for even a single rusty plow. Because we have to go on. We can do nothing else. We will land on Thetis. And one plow can mean that a few of us will live who otherwise would die with ... with the most of us." Hoddan ran his hands through his hair. This was not his trouble, but he could not thrust it from him. "But again why Darth?" he asked helplessly.
The silently landed vessel, which was the smaller of the two, was several times the sizes of the only spacecraft ever seen on Darth outside the spaceport. Its design was somehow suggestive of a yacht. The other, larger, ship was blunt and soiled and space-worn, with patches on its plating here and there. A landing ramp dropped down from the battered craft.
'Among those who danced most continually were the two engaged couples, as was natural to their situation. Each pair was very well matched, and very unlike the other. James Hardcome's intended was called Emily Darth, and both she and James were gentle, nice-minded, in-door people, fond of a quiet life.
"I'll go to Darth," he decided. "It's bound to be better than Zan, and it can't be worse than Walden." The ambassador looked impassive. An Embassy servant came in and offered an indoor communicator. The ambassador put it to his ear. After a moment he said: "Show him in." He turned to Hoddan. "You did kick up a storm! The Minister of State, no less, is here to demand your surrender.
"Moreover," he observed, "gratitude for actions done on Darth does not entitle you to judge of my actions on Walden. While you might and even should feel obliged to defend me in all things I have done on Darth, your obligation to me does not let you deny that I may have acted less defensibly on Walden." Don Loris looked extremely uneasy. "I may have thought something like that," he admitted.
The moral tone on Darth was probably not elevated, but etiquette was a force. Hoddan thought it over. He looked up suddenly. "Some of them," he said wryly, "probably figure there's nothing to do but go through with it, eh?" "Yes," said Thal dismally. "Then we will all die." "Hm-m-m," said Hoddan. "The obligation is to fight. If you fail to kill me, that's not your fault, is it?
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