While Dern Blass grieved over his dead settlers, wantonly killed, Mysore grieved with him. When Dern spoke angrily of the blown Doors, however, Mysore Hobbs realized at once that the attackers had not destroyed them for mere destruction’s sake. The only reason to destroy the Doors would have been to keep the foray secret for some little time, that is, unknown by System at large. Because the Archives link was archaic and inefficient, the invading force had not imagined such a thing would exist, and though it was archaic and inefficient, Mysore learned of the outrage within a few watches of the time Dern began the telling. He also learned the name of the captured soldier.
He sent Hobbs Transystem staff members quietly to Thyker, where they were able to establish Hoven’s membership in an ultramilitant group of wild-eyed youngsters known as The Arm of the Prophetess, commanded by Howdabeen Churry. An information stage specialist began backtrailing charges for food and drink and transportation, thus uncovering evidence that Churry and Shan Damzel had several times been in the same place at the same time, not long before the raid itself. The same backtrailing was used to locate other possible members of the Arm.
It was only half a day, Phansuri time, after learning of the matter that Mysore Hobbs came through the Door from Phansure to Chowdari on Thyker like a fat stroke of lightning, surrounded by thunderclouds of aides and specialists in System Law, demanding to be seen at once by the Circle of Scrutators, preferably by all of them assembled.
“Not available,” he was told by a cowering underling.
“They must answer at once to this outrage,” Mysore trumpeted.
“On retreat,” he was told by another, more supercilious underling, who had no idea what was going on.
Holorabdabag Reticingh had ordered the underling to forestall interruption. He himself was not sure what had happened, though, since Mysore Hobbs had made no effort to keep the matter quiet on Phansure, System News was already seething with rumors. Reticingh wanted to delay confrontation until he could learn specifically what had happened. It was not the first mistake made by Baidee on that day. It was not to be the last.
“Tell your Scrutators they will regret their incivility,” smiled Mysore Hobbs with a dragon’s toothy grin. “Whether they were on retreat or not, they should have made time to talk to me. I could have enlightened them as to the murders of over three hundred unarmed and inoffensive civilians upon Hobbs Land, including many children. Young children. I could have told them about the destruction of Doors which will require much time and enormous expense to replace. I could have told them that we have a member of the invading force captive. He is a High Baidee, member of a group called The Arm of the Prophetess. Here is his picture, another of his clothing. Here is a medical report on his condition. Since I could not inform your foolish masters of these matters, I leave you with two names to give to them with my compliments. Shan Damzel. Howdabeen Churry!”
And with that, he turned about and went back to the Hobbs Transystem complex on Phansure, from which location he subsequently refused to speak to anyone from Thyker, either during or after his completion of certain arrangements with the other farm worlds.
“Tell them,” he told his secretaries when Thyker tried frantically to reach him, “that I am on retreat.”
This information was promptly received on Thyker, and the underling carried the message to Reticingh and his fellows.
“You should have talked with him,” said Merthal, who had been summoned to lend aid and assistance.
“How could I talk to the man when I don’t know what has happened. I can’t talk to him until we know exactly what occurred. What has Churry been up to?”
“He can’t be located,” replied Merthal, who had been trying to find Churry since the first rumors had reached the Circle of Scrutators. “They say he’s on desert maneuvers.”
“How about Shan Damzel?”
Shan Damzel was summoned and asked to tell the Circle what he’d been up to for the past few days.
“I’ve been here at the temple,” he said sulkily. “Every day for the past five days, as a matter of fact.”
“Doing what?” asked Reticingh.
“Meditating. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Reticingh,” said Merthal, “I’ve just thought …”
Reticingh made an angry and impatient gesture. “Are you involved in this business?” he snarled at Shan.
“What business?”
“This destruction of the Hobbs Land Gods?”
Thank the Overmind, said Shan silently. At least it’s dead on Hobbs Land.
“When did this happen?” he asked, with spurious innocence.
“Yesterday.”
“I’ve been here in the temple, meditating.”
“Reticingh,” Merthal interrupted again.
“What!” snarled Reticingh.
“Something just occurred to me.”
“And what was that?”
“Thyker gets about two-thirds of its total food supplies from Hobbs Transystem.”
Shan looked up, dazed, wondering what this had to do with anything.
“Mysore Hobbs is Hobbs Transystem,” Merthal went on, relentlessly. “And he’s very upset.”
“He wouldn’t,” breathed Reticingh. “He wouldn’t do that?”
“Do what?” asked Shan, suddenly aware of factors and considerations which had not previously crossed his mind. “Do what?”
“Oh, shit,” muttered Reticingh. “Oh, for the love of the Overmind. Oh Hell, Shan. What did the Hobbs Land Gods ever do to you that you had to stir up something like this?”
• The same question had occurred to Mysore Hobbs. It wasn’t that Mysore Hobbs cared about the Hobbs Land Gods. Mysore Hobbs had no interest in the Gods one way or the other. He was a Phansuri, who could take Gods or leave them alone. However, he was also a conscientious man whose self-image demanded very high standards of conduct, and if Gods meant something to the settlers, then their Gods should not be interfered
