, it looked very modern and very crisp and strictly
businesslike. Actually, the capture of this particular liner was a bit
of luck, for Hoddan. It was not one of the giant inter-cluster ships
which make runs of thousands of light-years and deign to stop only at
very major planets. It was a medium ship of five thousand tons burden,
designed for service in the Horsehead Nebula region. It was brand-new
and on the way from its builders to its owners when Hoddan interfered.
Naturally, though, it carried cargo on its maiden voyage.

Hoddan spoke curtly to the control room of the grid.

"I'm non-sked," he explained. "New ship. I got a freak charter party
over on Walden and I have to get rid of my cargo. How about shifting me
to a delay space until I can talk to some brokers?"

The force fields came on again and the liner moved very delicately to a
position at the side of the grid's central space. There it would be out
of the way.

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