When they rode up to it, Hoddan reflected that it was the only really civilized structure on the planet. Architecturally it was surely the least pleasing. It had been built when Darth was first settled on, and when ideas of commerce and interstellar trade seemed reasonable. It was a half-mile high and built of massive metal beams. It loomed hugely overhead when the double file of shaggy horses trotted under its lower arches and across the grass-grown space within it. Hoddan headed purposefully for the control shed. There was no sign of movement anywhere. The steeply gabled roofs of the nearby town showed only the fluttering of tiny birds. No smoke rose from chimneys. Yet the slanting morning sunshine was bright.
As Hoddan actually reached the control shed, he saw a sleepy man in the act of putting a key in the door. He dismounted within feet of that man, who turned and blinked sleepily at him, and then immediately looked the reverse of cordial. It was the same man he'd stung with a stun-pistol the day before.
"I've come back," said Hoddan, "for a few more kilowatts." The red-headed man swore angrily.
"Hush!" said Hoddan gently. "The Lady Fani is with us."
The red-headed man jerked his head around and paled. Thal glowered at him. Others of Don Loris' retainers shifted their positions significantly, to make their oversized knives handier.
"We'll come in," said Hoddan. "Thal, collect the pistols and bring them inside."
Fani swung lightly to the ground and followed him in. She looked curiously at the cables and instrument hoards and switches inside. On one wall a red light pulsed, and went out, and pulsed again. The red-headed man looked at it.
"You're being called," said Hoddan. "Don't answer it."
The red-headed man scowled. Thal came in with an armful of stun-pistols in various stages of discharge. Hoddan briskly broke the butt of one of his own and presented it to the terminals he'd used the day before.
"He's not to touch anything, Thal," said Hoddan. To the red-headed man he observed, "I suspect that call's been coming in all night. Something was in orbit at sundown. You closed up shop and went home early, eh?"
"Why not?" rasped the red-headed man. "There's only one ship a month!"
"Sometimes," said Hoddan, "there are specials. But I commend your negligence. It was probably good for me."
He charged one pistol, and snapped its butt shut, and snapped open another, and charged it. There was no difficulty, of course. In minutes all the pistols he'd brought from Walden were ready for use again.
He tucked away as many as he could conveniently carry on his person. He handed the rest to Thal. He went competently to the pulsing red signal. He put headphones to his ears. He listened. His expression became extremely strange, as if he did not quite understand nor wholly believe what he heard.
"Odd," he said mildly. He considered for a moment or two. Then he rummaged around in the drawers of desks. He found wire clippers. He began to snip wires in half.
The red-headed man started forward automatically. "Take care of him, Thal," said Hoddan.
He cut the microwave receiver free of its wires and cables. He lifted it experimentally and opened part of its case to make sure the thermo battery that would power it in an emergency was there and in working order. It was.
"Put this on a horse, Thal," commanded Hoddan. "We're taking it up to Don Loris'."
The red-headed man's mouth dropped open. He said stridently:
"Hey! You can't do that!" Hoddan glared at him. The redhead then said sourly: "All right, you can. I'm not trying to stop you with all those hardcases outside!"
"You can build another in a week," said Hoddan kindly. "You must have spare parts."
Thal carried the communicator outside. Hoddan opened a cabinet, threw switches, and painstakingly cut and snipped and snipped at a tangle of wires within.
"Just your instrumentation," he explained. "You won't use the grid until you've got this fixed, too. A few days of harder work than you're used to. That's all!"
He led the way out again, and on the way explained to Fani:
"Pretty old-fashioned job, this grid. They make simpler ones nowadays. They'll be able to repair it, though, in time. Now we go back to your father's castle. He may not be pleased, but he should be mollified."
He saw Fani mount lightly into her own saddle and shook his head gloomily. He climbed clumsily into his own. They moved off to return to Don Loris' stronghold. Hoddan suffered.
They reached the castle before noon, and the sight of the Lady Fani produced enthusiasm and loud cheers. The loot displayed by the returned wayfarers increased the rejoicing. There was envy among the men who had stayed behind. There were respectfully admiring looks cast upon Hoddan. He had displayed, in furnishing opportunities for plunder, the most-admired quality a leader of feudal fighting men could show.
The Lady Fani beamed as she, Thal, and Hoddan, all very dusty and travel-stained, presented themselves to her father in the castle's great hall.
"Here's your daughter, sir," said Hoddan, and yawned. "I hope there won't be any further trouble with Ghek. We took his castle and looted it a little and brought back some extra horses. Then we went to the spaceport. I recharged my stun-pistols and put the landing-grid out of order for the time being. I brought away the communicator there." He yawned again. "There's something highly improper going on, up just beyond atmosphere. There are three ships up there in orbit, and they were trying to call the spaceport in non-regulation fashion, and it's possible that some of your neighbors would be interested. So I postponed everything until I could get some sleep. It seemed to me that when better skulduggeries are concocted, that Don Loris and his associates ought to concoct them. And if you'll excuse me—"
He moved away practically dead on his feet. If he had been accustomed to horseback riding, he wouldn't have been so exhausted. But now he yawned, and yawned, and Thal took him to a room quite different from the guestroom-dungeon to which he'd been taken the night before. He noted that the door, this time, opened inward. He braced chairs against it to make sure that nobody could open it from without. He lay down and slept heavily.
He was awakened by loud poundings. He roused himself enough to say sleepily:
"Whaddyawant?"
"The lights in the sky!" cried Fani outside the door. "The ones you say are spaceships! It's sunset again, and I just saw them. But there aren't three, anymore. Now there are nine!"
"All right," said Hoddan. He laid down his head again and thrust it into his pillow. Then he was suddenly very wide awake. He sat up with a start.
Nine spaceships? That wasn't possible! That would be a spacefleet! And there were no spacefleets! Walden would certainly have never sent more than one ship to demand his surrender to its police. The Space Patrol never needed more than one ship anywhere. Commerce wouldn't cause ships to travel in company. Piracy? There couldn't be a pirate fleet! There'd never be enough loot anywhere to keep it in operation. Nine spaceships at one time. All traveling in orbit around a primitive planet like Darth.
It couldn't happen! Hoddan couldn't conceive of such a thing. But a recently developed pessimism suggested that since everything else, to date, had been to his disadvantage, this was probably a catastrophe also. He groaned and lay down to sleep again.
Chapter 6
When frantic bangings on the propped-shut door awakened him next morning, he confusedly imagined that they were noises in the communicator headphones.