Sense of Wonder: A Century of Science Fiction (315 page)

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Authors: Leigh Grossman

Tags: #science fiction, #literature, #survey, #short stories, #anthology

BOOK: Sense of Wonder: A Century of Science Fiction
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The ship seemed unnaturally quiet now—that was the trouble. The captain’s cabin particularly, and the hall leading past it had become as dismal as a tomb.

But at long last, Nikkeldepain II swam up in the screens ahead. The captain put the
Venture 7333
on orbit, and broadcast the ship’s identification number. Half an hour later Landing Control called him. He repeated the identification number, added the ship’s name, owner’s name, his name, place of origin, and nature of cargo.

The cargo had to be described in detail.

“Assume Landing Orbit 21, 203 on your instruments,” Landing Control instructed him curtly. “A customs ship will come out to inspect.”

He went on the assigned orbit and gazed moodily from the vision ports at the flat continents and oceans of Nikkeldepain II as they drifted by below. A sense of equally flat depression overcame him suddenly. He shook it off and remembered Illyla.

Three hours later a ship ran up next to him, and he shut off the orbital drive. The communicator began buzzing. He switched it on.

“Vision, please!” said an official-sounding voice. The captain frowned, located the vision stud of the communicator screen and pushed it down. Four faces appeared in the screen, looking at him.

“Illyla!” the captain said.

“At least,” young Councilor Rapport said unpleasantly, “he’s brought back the ship, Father Onswud!”

“Illyla!” said the captain.

Councilor Onswud said nothing. Neither did Illyla. Both continued to stare at him, but the screen wasn’t good enough to let him make out their expressions in detail.

The fourth face, an unfamiliar one above a uniform collar, was the one with the official-sounding voice.

“You are instructed to open the forward lock, Captain Pausert,” it said, “for an official investigation.”

It wasn’t until he was about to release the outer lock to the control room that the captain realized it wasn’t Customs who had sent a boat out to him but the Police of the Republic.

However, he hesitated only a moment. Then the outer lock gaped wide.

* * * *

H
e tried to explain. They wouldn’t listen. They had come on board in contamination-proof repulsor suits, all four of them; and they discussed the captain as if he weren’t there. Illyla looked pale and angry and beautiful, and avoided looking at him.

However, he didn’t want to speak to her in front of the others anyway.

They strolled back through the ship to the storage and gave the Karres cargo a casual glance.

“Damaged his lifeboat, too!” Councilor Rapport remarked.

They brushed past him up the narrow passage and went back to the control room. The policeman asked to see the log and commercial records. The captain produced them.

The three men studied them briefly. Illyla gazed stonily out at Nikkeldepain II.

“Not too carefully kept!” the policeman pointed out.

“Surprising he bothered to keep them at all!” said Councilor Rapport.

“But it’s all clear enough!” said Councilor Onswud.

They straightened up then and faced him in a line. Councilor Onswud folded his arms and projected his craggy chin. Councilor Rapport stood at ease, smiling faintly. The policeman became officially rigid.

Illyla remained off to one side, looking at the three.

“Captain Pausert,” the policeman said, “the following charges—substantiated in part by this preliminary examination—are made against you—”

“Charges?” said the captain.

“Silence, please!” rumbled Councilor Onswud.

“First, material theft of a quarter-million value of maels of jewels and jeweled items from a citizen of the Imperial Planet of Porlumma—”

“They were returned!” the captain said protested.

“Restitution, particularly when inspired by fear of retribution, does not affect the validity of the original charge,” Councilor Rapport quoted, gazing at the ceiling.

“Second,” continued the policeman. “Purchase of human slaves, permitted under Imperial law but prohibited by penalty of ten years to lifetime penal servitude by the laws of the Republic of Nikkeldepain—”

“I was just taking them back where they belonged!” said the captain.

“We shall get to that point presently,” the policeman replied. “Third, material theft of sundry items in the value of one hundred and eighty thousand maels from a ship of the Imperial Planet of Lepper, accompanied by threats of violence to the ship’s personnel—”

“I might add in explanation of the significance of this particular charge,” added Councilor Rapport, looking at the floor, “that the Regency of Sirius, containing Lepper, is allied to the Republic of Nikkeldepain by commercial and military treaties of considerable value. The Regency has taken the trouble to point out that such hostile conduct by a citizen of the Republic against citizens of the Regency is likely to have an adverse effect on the duration of the treaties. The charge thereby becomes compounded by the additional charge of a treasonable act against the Republic—”

He glanced at the captain. “I believe we can forestall the accused’s plea that these pilfered goods also were restored. They were, in the face of superior force!”

“Fourth,” the policeman went on patiently, “depraved and licentious conduct while acting as commercial agent, to the detriment of your employer’s business and reputation—”

“WHAT?” choked the captain.

“—involving three of the notorious Witches of the Prohibited Planet of Karres—”

“Just like his great-uncle Threbus!” nodded Councilor Onswud gloomily. “It’s in the blood, I always say!”

“—and a justifiable suspicion of a prolonged stay on said Prohibited Planet of Karres—”

“I never heard of that place before this trip!” shouted the captain.

“Why don’t you read your Instructions and Regulations then?” shouted Councilor Rapport. “It’s all there!”

“Silence, please!” shouted Councilor Onswud.

“Fifth,” said the policeman quietly, “general willful and negligent actions resulting in material damage and loss to your employer to the value of eighty-two thousand maels.”

“I still have fifty-five thousand. And the stuff in the storage,” the captain said, also quietly, “is worth a quarter of a million, at least!”

“Contraband and hence legally valueless!” the policeman said. Councilor Onswud cleared his throat.

“It will be impounded, of course,” he said. “Should a method of resale present itself, the profits, if any, will be applied to the cancellation of your just debts. To some extent that might reduce your sentence.” He paused. “There is another matter—”

“The sixth charge,” the policeman announced, “is the development
and
public demonstration of a new type of space drive, which should have been brought promptly and secretly to the attention of the Republic of Nikkeldepain.”

They all stared at him—alertly and quite greedily.

So
that
was it—the Sheewash Drive!

“Your sentence may be greatly reduced, Pausert,” Councilor Onswud said wheedlingly, “if you decide to be reasonable now. What have you discovered?”

“Look out, father!” Illyla said sharply.

“Pausert,” Councilor Onswud inquired in a fading voice, “what is that in your hand?”

“A Blythe gun,” the captain said, boiling.

* * * *

T
here was a frozen stillness for an instant. Then the policeman’s right hand made a convulsive motion.

“Uh-uh!” said the captain warningly.

Councilor Rapport started a slow step backwards.

“Stay where you are,” said the captain.

“Pausert!” Councilor Onswud and Illyla cried out together.

“Shut up!” said the captain.

There was another stillness.

“If you’d looked,” the captain told them, in an almost normal voice, “You’d have seen I’ve got the nova gun turrets out. They’re fixed on that boat of yours. The boat’s lying still and keeping its yap shut. You do the same—”

He pointed a finger at the policeman. “You open the lock,” he said. “Start your suit repulsors and squirt yourself back to your boat!”

The inner port lock groaned open. Warm air left the ship in a long, lazy wave, scattering the sheets of the Venture’s log and commercial records over the floor. The thin, cold upper atmosphere of Nikkeldepain II came eddying in.

“You next, Onswud!” the captain said.

And a moment later: “Rapport, you just turn around—”

Young Councilor Rapport went out through the lock at a higher velocity than could be attributed reasonably to his repulsor units. The captain winced and rubbed his foot. But it had been worth it.

“Pausert,” said Illyla in justifiable apprehension, “you are stark, staring mad!”

“Not at all, my dear,” the captain said cheerfully. “You and I are now going to take off and embark on a life of crime together.”

“But, Pausert—”

“You’ll get used to it,” the captain assured her, “just like I did. It’s got Nikkeldepain beat every which way.”

“Pausert,” Illyla said, white-faced. “We told them to bring up revolt ships!”

“We’ll blow them out through the stratosphere,” the captain said belligerently, reaching for the port-control switch. He added, “But they won’t shoot anyway while I’ve got you on board.”

Illyla shook her head. “You just don’t understand,” she said desperately. “You can’t make me stay!”

“Why not?” asked the captain.

“Pausert,” said Illyla, “I am Madame Councilor Rapport.”

“Oh!” said the captain. There was a silence. He added, crestfallen, “Since when?”

“Five months ago, yesterday,” said Illyla.

“Great Patham!” cried the captain, with some indignation. “I’d hardly got off Nikkeldepain then! We were engaged!”

“Secretly…and I guess,” said Illyla, with a return of spirit, “that I had a right to change my mind!”

There was another silence.

“Guess you had, at that,” the captain agreed. “All right. The lock’s still open, and your husband’s waiting in the boat. Beat it!”

He was alone. He let the locks slam shut and banged down the oxygen release switch. The air had become a little thin.

He cussed.

The communicator began rattling for attention. He turned it on.

“Pausert!” Councilor Onswud was calling in a friendly but shaking voice. “May we not depart, Pausert? Your nova guns are still fixed on this boat!”

“Oh, that—” said the captain. He deflected the turrets a trifle. “They won’t go off now. Scram!”

The police boat vanished.

There was other company coming, though. Far below him but climbing steadily, a trio of atmospheric revolt ships darted past on the screen, swung around and came back for the next turn of their spiral. They’d have to get a good deal closer before they started shooting; but they’d try to stay under him so as not to knock any stray chunks out of Nikkeldepain.

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