“It’s impossible!” said the old man. “It’s impossible!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Hoddan. “It’s unlikely, but it’s happened. I’m only afraid it’s not enough.”

“It is many times more than what we hoped,” said the old man humbly. “Only—” he stopped. “We are more grateful than we can say.”

Hoddan took a deep breath.

“I’d like to take my crew back home,” he explained. “And come back. Perhaps I can be useful explaining things. And I’d like to ask a great favor of you — for my own work.”

“But naturally,” said the old man. “Of course. We will await your return.”

Hoddan was relieved. There seemed to be a strange limitation to the happiness of the emigrants. They were passionately rejoiceful over the agricultural machinery. But they seemed dutifully rather than truly happy over the microfilm library. The vision-tape instructors were the objects of polite comment only. Hoddan felt a vague discomfort. There seemed to be a sort of secret desperation in the atmosphere, which they would not admit or mention. But he was coming back. Of course.

He brought the spaceboat over to the new liner. He hooked onto a lifeboat blister and his seven Darthians crawled through the lifeboat tube. Hoddan pulled away quickly before somebody thought to ask why there were no lifeboats in the places so plainly made for them.

He headed downward when the landmarks on Darth’s surface told him that Don Loris’ castle would shortly come over the horizon. He was just touching atmosphere when it did. The boat’s tanks had been refilled, and he burned fuel recklessly to make a dramatic landing within a hundred yards of the battlements where Fani had once thoughtfully had a coil of rope ready for him.

Heads peered at the lifeboat over those same battlements now, but the gate was closed. It stayed closed. There was somehow an atmosphere of suspicion amounting to enmity. Hoddan felt unwelcome.

“All right, boys,” he said resignedly. “Out with you and to the castle. Here’s your loot from the voyage.” He counted out for each of them rather more actual cash than any of them really believed in. “And I want you to take this box to Don Loris. It’s a gift from me. And I want to consult with him about cooperation between the two of us in some plans I have. Ask if I may come and talk to him.”

His seven former spearmen tumbled out. They marched gleefully to the castle gate. Hoddan saw them make a tantalizing display of the large sums of cash to the watchers above them. Thai held up the box for Don Loris. It was the box the lawyer’s clerk had turned over to him, with a tidy sum in cash in it. The sum was partly depleted now. Hoddan had paid off his involuntary crew with it. But there was still more in it than Don Loris would have gotten from Walden for selling him out.

The castle gate opened, as if grudgingly. The seven went in.

Time passed. Much time. Hoddan went over the arguments he meant to use on Don Loris. He needed to make up a very great sum, and it could be done thus-and-so, but thus-and-so required occasional pirate raids, which called for crews, and if Don Loris would encourage his retainers… He could have gone to another Darthian chieftain, of course, but he knew what kind of scoundrel Don Loris was. He’d have to find out about another man.

Nearly an hour elapsed before the castle gate opened again. Two files of spearmen marched out. There were eight men with a sergeant in command. Hoddan did not recognize any of them. They came to the spaceboat. The sergeant formally presented an official message. Don Loris would admit Bron Hoddan to his presence, to hear what he had to say.

Hoddan felt excessively uncomfortable. Waiting, he’d thought about that secret despair in the emigrant fleet. He worried about it. He was concerned because Don Loris had not welcomed him with cordiality, now that he’d brought back his retainers in good working order. In a sudden gloomy premonition, he checked his stun-pistols. They needed charging. He managed it from the lifeboat unit.

He went with foreboding toward the castle with the eight spearmen surrounding him as cops had once surrounded him on Walden. He did not like to be reminded of it. He frowned to himself as he went in the castle gate, and along a long stone passage, and up stone stairs into the great hall of state. Don Loris, as once before, sat peevishly by the huge fireplace. This time he was almost inside it, with its hood and mantel actually over his head. The Lady Fani sat there with him.

Don Loris seemed to put aside his peevishness only a little to greet Hoddan.

“My dear fellow,” he said complainingly, “I don’t like to welcome you with reproaches, but do you know that when you absconded with that spaceboat, you made a mortal enemy for me? It’s a fact! My neighbor, on whose land the boat descended, was deeply hurt. He considered it his property. He had summoned his retainers for a fight over it when I heard of his resentment and partly soothed him with apologies and presents. But he still considers that I should return it to him, whenever you appear here with it!”

“Oh,” said Hoddan. “That’s too bad.”

Things looked ominous. The Lady Fani looked at him strangely. As if she were trying to tell him something without speaking. She looked as if she had wept lately.

“To be sure,” said Don Loris fretfully, “to be sure you gave me a very pretty present just now. But my retainers tell me that you came back with a ship. A very fine ship. What became of it? The landing-grid has been repaired at last and you could have landed there. What happened to it?”

“I gave it away,” said Hoddan. He saw what Fani was trying to tell him. Leading into the great hall” was a corridor filled with spearmen. His tone turned sardonic. “I gave it to a poor old man.”

Don Loris shook his head.

“That’s not right, Hoddan! That fleet overhead, now. If they are pirates and want some of my men for crews, they should come to me! I don’t take kindly to’ the idea of your kidnaping my men and carrying them off on piratical excursions! They must be profitable! But on the other hand, if you can afford to give me presents like this, and be so lavish with my retainers — why maybe…”

Hoddan grimaced.

“I came to arrange a deal on that order,” he observed.

“I don’t think I like it,” said Don Loris peevishly. “I prefer to deal with people direct. I’ll arrange about the landing-grid, and for a regular recruiting service which I will conduct, of course. But you — you are irresponsible! I wish you well, but when you carry my men off for pirates, and make my neighbors into my enemies, and infect my daughter with strange notions and the government of a friendly planet asks me in so many words not to shelter you any longer — why, that’s the end, Hoddan. So with great regret…”

“The regret is mine,” said Hoddan. Thoughtfully, he aimed a stun-pistol at a slowly opening corridor door. He pulled the trigger. Yells followed its humming, because not everybody it hit was knocked out. Nor did it hit everybody in the corridor. Men came surging out of one door, and then two.

Then a spear went past Hoddan’s face and missed him only by inches. It buried its point in the floor. A whirling knife spun past his nose. He glanced up. There were balconies all around the great hall, and men popped up from behind the railings and threw things at him. They popped down out of sight instantly. There was no rhythm involved. He could not anticipate their rising, nor shoot them through the balcony-front. And more men infiltrated the hall, getting behind heavy chairs and tables. More spears and knives flew.

“Bron!” cried the Lady Fani, throatily.

He thought she had an exit for him. He sprang to her side.

“I — I didn’t want you to come,” she wept.

There was a singular pause in the clangings and clashings of weapons on the floor. Then one man popped up and hurled a knife. The clang of its fall was a very lonely one. Don Loris fairly howled at him.