Murray Leinster: The Pirates of Zan

“I like working on electronic gadgets,” Hoddan said painfully. “My cousin Oliver and I have some things we want to work out together.”

His grandfather snorted. One of the cousins came in from outside the yacht. Thai followed him, glowing. He’d reported the looting of the spaceport town, and Don Loris had gone into a tantrum of despair because nobody seemed able to make headway against these strangers. Now he’d turned about and issued a belated invitation to Hoddan and his grandfather and their guest the Interstellar Ambassador — of whom he’d learned from Thai — to dinner at the castle. They could bring their own guards.

Hoddan would have refused, but the ambassador and his grandfather were insistent. Ultimately he found himself seated drearily at a long table in a stone-walled room lighted by very smoky torches. Don Loris, jittering, displayed a sort of professional conversational charm. He was making an urgent effort to overcome the bad effect of past actions by conversational brilliance. The Lady Fani sat quietly. She looked most often at her place. The talk of the oldsters became profound. They talked administration. They talked practical politics. They talked economics.

The Lady Fani looked very bored as the talk went on after the meal was over. Don Loris said brightly to her:

“My dear, we must be tedious! Young Hoddan looks uninterested, too. Why don’t you two walk on the battlements and talk about such things as persons your age find interesting?”

Hoddan rose, gloomily. The Lady Fani, with a sigh of polite resignation, rose to accompany him. The ambassador said suddenly:

“Hoddan! I forgot to tell you! They found out what killed that man outside the power station!” When Hoddan showed no comprehension, the ambassador explained. “The man your friend Derec thought was killed by death rays. It developed that he’d gotten a terrific load on — drunk, you know — and climbed a tree to escape the pink, purple, and green duryas he thought were chasing him to gore him. He climbed too high, a branch broke, and he fell and was killed. I’ll take it up with the court when I get back to Walden. No reason to lock you up any more, you know. You might even sell the Power Board on using your receptor, now!”

“Thanks,” said Hoddan politely. He added. “Don Loris has that Derec and a cop from Walden here now. Tell them about it and let them go home.”

He accompanied the Lady Fani to the battlements. The stars were very bright. They strolled.

“What was that the ambassador told you?” she asked.

He explained without zest. He added morbidly that it didn’t matter. He could go back to Walden now, and if the ambassador was right he could even accomplish things in electronics there. But he wasn’t interested. It was odd that he’d once thought such things would make him happy.

“I thought,” said the Lady Fani, in gentle melancholy, “that I would be happier with you dead. You had made me very angry. But I found it was not so.”

Hoddan fumbled for her meaning. It wasn’t quite an apology for trying to get him killed. But at least it was a disclaimer of future intentions in that direction.

“And speaking of happiness,” she added in a different tone, “this Nedda…” Bron shuddered, and she said, “I talked to her. Then I sent for Ghek. We’re on perfectly good terms again, you know. I introduced him to Nedda. She was vanilla ice-cream with meringue and maple syrup on it. He loved it! She gazed at him with pretty sadness and told him how terrible it was of him to kidnap me. He said humbly that he’d never had her ennobling influence nor dreamed that she existed. And she loved that! They go together like strawberries and cream! I had to leave, or stop being a lady. I think I made a match.” Then she said quietly:

“But seriously, you ought to be perfectly happy. You’ve everything you ever said you wanted, except a delightful girl to marry.”

Hoddan squirmed.

“We’re old friends,” said Fani kindly, “and you did me a great favor once. I’ll return it. I’ll round up some really delightful girls for you to look over.”

“I’m leaving,” said Hoddan, alarmed.

“The only thing is, I don’t know what type you like. Nedda isn’t it.”

Hoddan shuddered.

“Nor I,” said Fani. “What type would you say I was?”

“Delightful,” said Hoddan hoarsely.

The Lady Fani stopped and looked up at him. She said approvingly:

“I hoped that word would occur to you one day. What does a man usually do when he discovers a girl is delightful?”

Hoddan thought it over. He started. He put his arms around her with singularly little skill. He kissed her, at first as if amazed at himself, and then with enthusiasm.

There were scraping sounds on the stone nearby. Footsteps. Don Loris appeared, gazing uncertainly about.

“Fani!” he said plaintively. “Hoddan? Our guests are going to the spaceships. I want to speak privately to Hoddan.”

“Yes?” said Hoddan.

“I’ve been thinking,” said Don Loris fretfully. “I’ve made some mistakes, my dear boy, and I’ve given you excellent reason to dislike me, but at bottom I’ve always thought a great deal of you. And there seems to be only one way in which I can properly express how much I admire you. How would you like to marry my daughter?”

Hoddan looked down at Fani. She did not try to move away.

“What do you think of the idea, Fani?” he asked. “How about marrying me tomorrow morning?”

“Of course not!” said Fani indignantly. “I wouldn’t think of such a thing! I couldn’t possibly get married before tomorrow afternoon!”