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 car.
"Where?" asked the driver.
"Hm," said Hoddan. "There's a firm of lawyers . . . I can't remember the names . . ."
"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 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 one 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 cab 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 forty-three."
Hoddan went up. He was unknown. A receptionist looked at him with surprised aversion.
"I have a case of space-piracy," said Hoddan politely. "A member of the firm, please."
Ten minutes later he eased himself into a fluffy chair. A gray-haired man of infinite dignity said:
"Well?"
"I am," said Hoddan modestly, "a pirate. I have a ship in the spaceport with very convincing papers and a cargo of Rigellian furs, jewelry from the Cetis planets, and a rather large quantity of bulk melacynth. I want to dispose of the cargo and invest a considerable part of the proceeds in conservative stocks on Krim."
The lawyer frowned. He looked shocked. Then he said carefully:
"You made two statements. One was that you are a pirate. Taken by itself, that is not my concern. The other is that you wish to dispose of certain cargo and invest in reputable business on Krim. I assume that there is no connection between the two facts."
He paused. Hoddan said nothing. The lawyer went on, with dignity:
"Of course our firm is not in the brokerage business. However, we can represent you in your dealing with local brokers. And obviously we can advise you."
"I also wish to buy," said Hoddan, "a complete shipload of agricultural machinery, a microfilm technical library, machine tools, vision-tape technical instructors and libraries of tape for them, generators, and such things."
"Hm," said the lawyer, "I will send one of our clerks to examine your cargo so he can deal properly with the brokers. You will tell him more in detail what you wish to buy."
Hoddan stood up.
"I'll take him to the ship now."
He was mildly surprised at the smoothness with which matters proceeded. He took a young clerk to the ship. He showed him the ship's papers as edited by himself. He took him through the cargo holds. He discussed in some detail what he wished to buy.
When the clerk left, Thal came to complain again.
"Look here!" he said bitterly, "we've scrubbed this dam' ship from one end to the other! There's not a speck or a fingermark on it. And we're still scrubbing! We captured this ship! Is this pirate revels?"
Hoddan said:
"There's money coming. I'll let you boys ashore with some cash in your pockets presently."
Brokers came, escorted by the lawyer's clerk. They squabbled furiously with him. But the dignity of the firm he represented was extreme. There was no suspicion—no overt suspicion anyhow—and the furs went. The clerk painstakingly informed Hoddan that he could draw so much. More brokers came. The jewelry went. The lawyer's clerk jotted down figures and told Hoddan the net. The bulk melacynth was taken over by a group of brokers, none of whom could handle it alone.
Hoddan drew cash and sent his Darthians ashore with a thousand credits apiece. With bright and shining faces, they headed for the nearest bars.
"As soon as my ship's loaded," Hoddan told the clerk, "I'll want to get them out of jail."
The clerk nodded. He brought salesmen of agricultural machinery. Representatives of microfilm libraries. Manufacturers of generators, vision-tape instructors and allied lines. Hoddan bought, painstakingly. Delivery was promised for the next day.
"Now," said the clerk, "about the investments you wish to make with the balance?"
"I'll want a reasonable sum in cash," said Hoddan reflectively. "But—well . . . I've been told that insurance is a fine, conservative business. As I understand it, most insurance organizations are divided into divisions which are separately incorporated. There will be a life insurance division, a casualty division, and so on. Is that right? And one may invest in any of them separately?"
The clerk said impassively:
"I was given to understand, sir, that you are interested in risk insurance. Perhaps especially risk insurance covering piracy. I was given quotations on the risk insurance divisions of all Krim companies. Of course those are not very active stocks, but if there were a rumor of a pirate ship acting in this part of the galaxy, one might anticipate . . ."
"I do," said Hoddan. "Let's see . . . my cargo brought so much . . . hm . . . my purchases will come to so much. My legal fees, of course . . . I mentioned a sum in cash. Yes. This will be the balance, more or less, which you will put in the stocks you've named. But since I anticipate activity in them, I'll want to leave some special instructions."
He gave a detailed, thoughtful account of what he anticipated might be found in news reports of later dates. The clerk noted it all down, impassively. Hoddan added instructions.
"Yes, sir," said the clerk without intonation when he was through. "If you will come to the office in the morning, sir, the papers will be drawn up and matters can be concluded. Your new cargo can hardly be delivered before then, and if I may say so, sir, your crew won't be ready. I'd estimate two hours of festivity for each man; and fourteen hours for recovery."
"Thank you," said Hoddan. "I'll see you in the morning."
He sealed up the ship when the lawyer's clerk departed. Then he felt lonely. He was the only living thing in the ship. His footsteps echoed hollowly. There was nobody to speak to. Not even anybody to threaten. He'd done a lot of threatening lately.
He went forlornly to the cabin once occupied by the liner's former skipper. His loneliness increased, he began to have self-doubts. Today's actions were the ones which bothered his conscience. He felt that they were not quite adequate. The balance left in the lawyer's hands would not be nearly enough to cover a certain deficit which in justice he felt himself bound to make up. It had been his thought to make this enterprise self-liquidating—everybody concerned making a profit, including the owners of the ship and cargo he had pirated. But he wasn't sure.
He reflected that his grandfather would not have been disturbed about such a matter. That elderly pirate would have felt wholly at ease. It was his conviction that piracy was an essential part of the working of the galaxy's economic system. Hoddan, indeed, could remember him saying: