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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Don't talk, Bron!" said Derec in panic. "Just keep quiet! It's bad enough! Don't make it worse!" A cop handed Hoddan a garment. He put it on. He became aware that the cop was scared. So was Derec. Everybody in the room was scared except himself. Hoddan found himself incredulous. People didn't act this way on super-civilized, highest-peak-of-culture Walden. "Who'd I kill?" he demanded. "And why?"
Derec hadn't noticed the absence of the flashing lights at sunset or hadn't realized that they meant the fleet was gone away. "Hm-m-m," said Hoddan. "Why don't you think I've already done it?" "Because they'd have killed you," said Derec. "Don Loris pointed that out. He doesn't believe you know how to make deathrays. He says it's not a secret anybody would be willing for anybody else to know.
Don Loris had been in an excessively fretful state of mind since the conclusion of his deal with the pair from Walden. Hoddan had estimated that he ought to get a half-million credits for Hoddan delivered to Derec and the Waldenian police. He'd been unable to get the police official Derec merely sat miserably by and said nothing to promise more than half so much.
But ... you know the truth, Bron! You killed that poor man back on Walden. You've got to sacrifice yourself for humanity! You'll be treated kindly!" Hoddan shook his head. It seemed somehow very startling for Derec to be harping on that same idea, after so many things had happened to Hoddan. But he didn't think Derec would actually expect him to yield to persuasion. There must be something else.
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