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Updated: June 26, 2025
The casual appropriation of unguarded property was apparently a social norm, here. The man in the purple cloak was insisting furiously that he was a Darthian gentleman and he'd have his share or else "Those things," said Hoddan, "are mine. Put them back." Faces turned to him, expressing shocked surprise. A man in dirty yellow pants stood up with a suit of Hoddan's underwear and a pair of shoes.
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.
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.
"I've brought back my men," growled Hoddan, "and Nedda's taken care of. We're through here." He headed abruptly for the great hall's farthest 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?"
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 broadcasts.
It was only half a mile away. Hoddan's spaceboat floated on. The relative position of the two ships changed slowly. Another voice said indignantly: "That's the same thing that missed us by less than a mile! You, there! Stop acting like a squig! Get on your own course!" A third voice; "What boat's that? I don't recognize it! I thought I knew all the freaks in this fleet, too!"
Derec might even have nerved himself up to something quite desperate. "What did you really come here for, Derec?" "To beg you to " Then, in one instant, Derec made an hysterical gesture and Hoddan's stun-pistol hummed. A small object left Derec's hand as his muscles convulsed from the stun-pistol bolt. It did not fly quite true. It fell a foot or so to one side of the boatport instead of inside.
Hoddan's grandfather had been known to observe that when a man can imagine all kinds of troubles and risks and disasters ahead of him, he is usually right. Hoddan shared that view. But it would not do to back out now. He examined Walden painstakingly while the yacht sped on. He saw an ocean come out of the twilight zone of dawn.
"Shall we hail?" asked Hoddan. "Nah!" snorted his grandfather. "I know his kind! Make him make the advances." He waved to his descendents. "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 y'can't use the space-drive, you still got power.
And of all unnecessary things, they wore flat-brimmed hats in a spaceship! Hoddan opened the boat door and said politely: "Good morning. I'm Bron Hoddan. You were talking to me just now." The oldest and most fiercely bearded of the men said harshly: "I am the leader here. We are the people of Colin." He frowned when Hoddan's expression remained unchanged.
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