Engineers -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space pirates -- Fiction
Hoddan dressed himself carefully in garments found in the liner's
skipper's cabin. He found Thal wearing an apron and an embittered
expression. He ceased to wield a mop as Hoddan halted before him.
"I'm going ashore," said Hoddan crisply. "You're in charge until I get
back."
"In charge of what?" demanded Thal bitterly. "Of a bunch of male
housemaids! I run a mop! And me a Darthian gentleman! I thought I was
being a pirate! What do I do? I scrub floors! I wash paint! I stencil
cases in cargo holds! I paint over names and put others in their places!
Me, a Darthian gentleman!"
"No," said Hoddan. "A pirate. If I don't get back, you and the others
can't work this ship, and presently the police of Krim will ask why.
They'll recheck my careful forgeries, and you'll all be hung for piracy.
So don't let anybody in. Don't talk to anybody. If you do--_pfft!_"
He drew his finger across his throat, and nodded, and went cheerfully
out the crew's landing-door in the very base of the ship. He went across
the tarmac and out between two of the gigantic steel arches of the grid.
He hired a ground vehicle.
"Where?" asked the driver.
"Hm-m-m," said Hoddan. "There's a firm of lawyers.... I can't remember
the name--"
"There's millions of 'em," said the driver.
"This is a special one," explained Hoddan. "It's so dignified they won't
talk to you unless you're a great-grandson of a client. They're so
ethical they won't touch a case of under a million credits. They've got
about nineteen names in the firm title and--"
"Oh!" said the ground-car driver. "That'll be-- Hell! I can't remember
the name either. But I'll take you there."
He drove out into traffic. Hoddan relaxed. Then he tensed again. He had
not been in a city since he stopped briefly in this on the way to Darth.
The traffic was abominable. And he, who'd been in various pitched
battles on Darth and had only lately captured a ship in space-- Hoddan
grew apprehensive as his ground-car charged into the thick of hooting,
rushing, squealing vehicles. When the car came to a stop he was
relieved.
"It's yonder," said the driver. "You'll find the name on the directory."
Hoddan paid and went inside the gigantic building. He looked at the
directory and shrugged. He went to the downstairs guard. He explained
that he was looking for a firm of lawyers whose name was not on the
directory list. They were extremely conservative and of the highest
possible reputation. They didn't seek clients--
"Forty-two and forty-three," said the guard, frowning. "I ain't supposed
to give it out, but--floors forty-two and-three."
* * * * *
Hoddan went up. He was unknown. A receptionist looked at him with
surprised aversion.
"I have a case of space piracy," said Hoddan polite. "A member of the
firm, please."
Ten minutes later he eased himself into the easiest of easy-chairs. A
gray-haired man of infinite dignity said:
"Well?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account