Note: This was written in 1989 as part of an online prose-roleplay
game. The story is sufficient to stand on its own (that is, I can
change/remove the roleplay-reference stuff); I will revise it for
stand-alone Real Soon Now.
Note #2: yes, I borrowed the names "Spectrox" and "Androzani"
from a Doctor Who episode. Unrelated plot, however. Enjoy.
From the Adventures of Solon Aquila:
Seeds of Avarice
Part One: Making Friends on Androzani
Aquila deftly extinguished his cigar just as the gilt double-
doors swung back. The muffled sounds of the party from without gave
way to the grand spectacle as he sauntered inside. Grand indeed, for
gathered here were the best fiscal minds in the galaxy. All of them,
smiling and complimenting each other on their successes between swills
of exotic liquors knowing full well that by the end of the next day
they would all be engaged in the most civilized of wars.
It would be a fight in which no weapons would be fired, no bombs
exploded, no sicknesses unleashed. And yet people throughout the
galaxy would die in such numbers so as to make any one planet seem
empty of life. There were no sides to be taken, no "good" or "bad";
only each person with their own interests at stake. Occasionally two
or more may share a common interest, but in the end everyone involved
would not hesitate to sacrifice their associates if it furthered their
own plans. This highest evolved of the arts of war was given a name
many centuries ago: Commerce. Trade for profit.
Grinning, Aquila looked over each of the guests. No enemies, no
friends. Only acquaintances who had like himself come to help plan
the new year. He lived by the spoils of trade from the buying and
selling of moneys on the open market. Solon Aquila was an
arbitrageur.
He was at the annual Spectrox Consortium of Androzani Major, that
event which officially opens the newest terran year's trading among
the civilized stars. The CEOs of all the great multisolar corporates
were here. Aquila had an occasion to further the interest of the host
company, the Cygnus Conglomerate; that company which oversaw the
production of Spectrox. For that favor he was now invited to the Show
to administer the traditional lottery on this opening night.
"A setup, my old," he muttered to himself under his breath.
Looking about, he saw a hundred or so dazzling women mingling with the
guests, something he quite unexpected. "Or is it? I have the
angst...heh, like wet mice creeping up and down my spine. Something
wrong with the pattern. What a pity none of these girls are with me,
could use a good front for this gig. Ah? Well, here I go."
He was easy to look at, like finding a friend that's been missing
for twenty years. Grizzled grey hair, sharp featured, sharper blue
eyes. After helping himself to a large tumbler of G&T he made his way
toward the raised stage in the middle of the room. A group of men and
women chatted there, those who had invited him. Undaunted, he stepped
up to greet them.
"Good evening to you all," he said jovially. "Happy to see you
all made it. Good to see so many seekers after knowledge from all
over the galaxy." He grinned. It was all fluff, a mode of
conversation he had mastered long ago. The men shook hands with him
and the women flirted, until the Cygnus CEO examined his watch and
clinked Aquila glass with his own, then signaled behind him to get
everyone seated.
"Right on time, Solon. Sure to be a right honorable bash. Got
your bet in?"
Aquila grinned and looked out over the audience, listening to the
soothing patterns the muffled noises made, mingled with the musky
odors and scents of the many races and species attending. Got my bet
in? Heh! Aquila thought to himself. The party kicks into high gear
based on a bet everyone who is here makes. The Lottery of Androzani,
that famous celebration based on the counting of seeds from the first
Spectas fruit of the season. As usual everyone rich enough or well-
connected had come in from all over the galaxy. There was even one
fellow he faintly recognized from Vinculum, sort of a cross between a
pro wrestler and a monk. That one was scowling up at Aquila, but the
glare was lost on him as Aquila had turned attention back to his
hosts.
"Eh, my old sturm und drang? Bet Cr.50,000 I did." He was
grinning, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.
"In that case, let's get started," replied the CEO. "Looks like
everyone's waiting to get nuts."
At this, Aquila grabbed the mike floating nearby and thumbed it
on, avoiding the glare of the man from Vinny in the front row.
"Ladies and Gentlemen and other organized Entities, have all bets
been placed? As you can see the Spectas is being carried forward. If
you have not bet, then--"
An ambiguous missile whizzed past Aquila's head, causing a mumble
of surprise from the room. His trained ears screened out words in a
dozen different interstellar tongues and he realized that the fellow
down in front had thrown a shoe at him.
The wrestler-monk was bellowing, "The man's a crook! No doubt
about it!" Aquila neatly dodged the other shoe as it came at him.
"Oh-oh," Aquila thought, "Heh, now I know. I wonder how he found
out those cards were marked for ultraviolet light?"
He held up his arms dramatically for silence, took a backward
step and kicked the trigger on the trap door. Instantly he dropped
from sight, to the delight and applause of the half-drunk crowd.
He waited in perfect comfort, watching on the monitors as the
huge man was escorted barefoot from the room. It was then that he got
the surprise of the year; one of the monitors had framed a beautiful
girl out in the crowd. He made a mental note to give kudos to the
cameraman while figuring out how to get hold of that girl. "Just my
type", he grinned at one one. Then it hit him: she _was_ his type.
The face was Jasmine's.
He stepped back into view, and the crowd stomped and clapped
their approval. He shoved his way out toward Jasmine, ignoring all
the hands shaking his and friendly cuffs on the shoulder..save for a
grin here and there. Then he found her.
"Jazz? Phum! Babe, whatever are you doing here? " Aquila
gulped at his G&T, inhaling at the same time. That familiar perfumed
scent was all about her; he was convinced it was her before she even
met his eyes. But her eyes looked _through_ him somehow, like he did
not even exist. She spoke, and the words stung him.
"Go away, you. I'm busy." Her voice, surely. Aquila blinked,
stunned. Something about her was wrong, and it was affecting him.
Almost like he couldn't think straight. Hypnosis?
"Kid? You OK? You know me! Old, old friends are we. More than
that, even!" While thinking to himself, she's been drugged!
Her lip curled up in disdain. "Mister," she hissed, "unless you
have business with my associate here, I'll have you thrown out."
Now it was Aquila's turn to be indignant. "Ah? Ha! Will y'now?
See that chap up on the stage? He is the big cheese this side of
Sirius. Saved his ass, I did. Last year when Vorshak Interstellar
dumped his stock in a sand-bag deal. I covered the difference." He
could not help but grin. "And he gave me Vorshak as a thank-you note.
Even so, I think you really could afford to give greetings to the man
who helped you start up on Vinny."
Aquila's eyes had that feral look, as when he is sure of the
deal. Jasmine spoke in a soft monotone, but her eyes were pleading:
"Please...sir, go away..." She looked casually about her; he followed
her eyes. "..play with one of the girls over there."
The light of understanding twinkled behind his eyes. Jasmine was
in big trouble. The oddness he felt earlier when making his entrance,
it was upon him again. He winked at her, grumbled, and stalked off
toward the bar. Something very odd here, aside from Jasmine's cold
shoulder. More like being cold and warm at the same time. Grabbing
another G&T, he made his way toward the group of girls.
Aquila smiled polite hellos to them all, amid the gulps from his
glass. Something familiar about these ladies, beyond the mutual
attraction. Like Jasmine's their eyes were almost hypnotic. One
difference, though; these girls had no escorts as did Jazz and many of
the others, but instead stood waiting. Indeed, they almost looked
fearful of not finding a big-wig to cling to. He was delightedly
baffled, until he saw Min.
Whether it was her well-known scent or voice, he could not tell,
but he suddenly saw the pattern. These girls..._all_ these girls were
from Vinculum. Some he knew by sight, others by voice, but only two
by name. Jazz he could not get a word out of. And his pattern-sense
said for her safety's sake to walk away as she asked. But here was
Min, one of his own secretaries! Presumably on vacation for six
weeks! Only to turn up at the premier gathering of galactic
capitalists.
His next action was simple, but the effect would be rather far-
reaching. He grabbed Min by the arm, and started walking with her
toward the door. Almost immediately, two large men stepped away from
their mingling and moved to intercept him. Aquila quickly turned
about, dragging the girl up onto the stage. He shouted a cheery
farewell to the group and disappeared down through the trap door.
He shot the bolt under the trap just as someone began pounding on
it from above, followed by a tremendous bellow of balked fury. Aquila
scuttled rapidly through the maze of wires and pipes somehow retaining
his grip on Min. He found some circuit breakers and opened them; the
pounding above him became confused as the lights went out.
"There'll be wine spilled tonight," he mused, listening to the
pounding above him. "That's the trouble with these marketroids,
they're still children at heart. No sense of ethics, only egotism."
This was serious. Tonight had been the first occasion on which he
hoped to put the profits from the Vorshak windfall into his own
pocket. Androzani officials had a greed one didn't normally associate
with colonist ancestry. Of course the settlers of Androzani
eventually stumbled across the Spectas plant, a thing to make anyone
sleep sweetly in dreams of avarice no matter how noble they may have
once been.
"Ah well," he mumbled, "best jet out of here and figure what's
this deal with Min and Jazz. Something damn strange when fifty--
HimmelHerrGott!" He was shaking his free hand where his wristband
comm-link smoked and fizzled suddenly. It snapped apart, useless.
It was the lack of reaction in Min that jogged his thoughts. She
had the same effect Jazz had on him earlier; a kind of semi-hypnotic
effect that blunted his awareness. What had happened to her? To all
of them?
"Trouble, trouble," he thought, looking down at his ruined wrist-
comm. Big stakes this time. No more communications; no more
electronic credit. His mind clicked into the crisis gear. How was he
going to get credit enough to book passage back to Vinny in the haste
that appeared necessary? He fled down the corridor, ducked out of the
exit and dogged the hatch. The confusion above was still quite loud,
given the three thousand occupants jammed into that limited space.
"Sounds like Babel," he said absently to Min, who so far had not
twitched a muscle in protest. "That's the trouble with galactic
travel. Too many overemotional races." Doubling and twisting a
planned course among the familiar streets, he continued to mutter
marginal comments, for Aquila generally moved in a haze of sotto voce
remarks confidingly addressed to himself, usually approving in nature.
After a time, deciding for the moment that he had put a safe
distance between himself and the Enemy -- whoever they were -- he
slowed his pace, paused at a battered-looking public locker and
deposited a few coins from his small supply. In return the locker
fell open and he retrieved his small, worn suitcase which contained
emergency supplies. Everything needed for jumping off-world, save for
the really vital factor. No travel pass. Passes are good only for
two hours from purchase, after which, failing their use in boarding a
ship, erase themselves. Great deterrent to forgery; damned nuisance
in a crisis.
Had he anticipated the full extent of the Enemy's rapacity and
corruption he could have perhaps brought along more payoff funds. But
he had wanted his arrival to coincide with the great Spectas festival
and time pressed. Still, there were ways. Captain Hoening of the
Godolphin owed him a favor and the Godolphin was due to take off early
next morning.
"Possibly," Aquila ruminated, trudging on, "something might be
arranged. Let me see now. First Item. There's Min. And this semi-
hypnotic power she's come to possess." The arbitrageur in him
considered what an advantage having her at trade meetings would be,
dulling his competitors minds just enough to get the favorable deal.
But the older part of him protested, and won. If it were her choice
to do this, fine. But she is amnesiac, little more than a
programmable dummy under whatever drug she's been fed. As was Jazz,
though not as badly affected, and the fifty-odd others. And what
really bugged him was that they were all here on Androzani Major.
"Borrowing pass money won't solve the first item," he confided to the
girl. "If I succeed in getting us pass money there's still item two:
Tyris."
Tyris was Aquila's most vicious competitor, a native of Canis and
equal in Aquila's pattern-sensing nature. Min used to work for his
offices on Andride. That she now worked for Aquila was enough to make
Tyris Private Enemy Number One. Aquila had taken pains to keep
himself informed as to Tyris' location from day to day and Tyris was
at this moment at the liason officer's house here on Major.
"Probably still throwing each other's money away gambling when it
might as well be thrown at me for a pair of travel passes. Phum,"
Aquila reflected, "both Tyris and the Liason First have passes
already. Excellent, my sweet...answer now obvious. I'll just get
into their racket and win. Then we jet of this rock and fix your
head." Being pattern-sensitive made Aquila a bad one to bet against.
Swinging the suitcase jauntily, he walked along by back alleys,
conscious of a distant, mounting tumult, until he reached the Liason
First's office. On the threshold he paused to glance back, puzzled by
the apparent riot that had broken out at the convention hall.
Submerged feelings of guilt, plus his natural self-esteem, made
Aquila wonder if he himself might be the cause of all that uproar.
However, since he had only once roused the inhabitants of an entire
planet against him (and hence his exile), he concluded vaguely that
there was a fire. He suddenly remembered Sinc, the giant monk who
apparently came all this way just to heckle him. This was one of the
monk's favorite dives. "Just hope he's in detention for the shoe
tossing game," grinned Aquila.
So he pushed the curtains aside and entered the Liason's
quarters, like those of all the trade worlds lavish with food and
drink and girls...and the game tables. He looked about cautiously
for Sinc while arguing with himself. "After all, he was the one who
suggested the card game! Any case, he's not here. Tyris, however,
is. In all fairness, I've given him every chance to back out of the
Cygnus deal. Now let him take consequences."
Squaring his shoulders, Aquila moved through the crowd toward the
back of the room, where Tyris crouched over a green-topped table with
his companion, the Liason First Officer.
To a non-educated observer it would have seemed that a giant
bipedal fox sat across from a thin fellow who was a foot shorter and
one-fourth Tyris' mass. The two sat unmoving, just staring through
monoculars at a pair of dice laid on the felt. From his first meeting
with Tyris several years ago, Aquila had recognized a worthy and
formidable opponent. It showed even in the giant fox's gambling
habits.
All Canisians are dangerous. They are noted for their feuds and
rages. "It's extraordinary," Aquila mused, looking pensively at
Tyris. "They feel fine only when they're hating someone. The
sensations of pleasure and pain are reversed. Canisians find the
emotions of rage, hate and cruelty pro-survival. Problem is, they
make for such bloody good businessmen."
Tyris reached for the cup, claws extended, and rattled it in the
face of his tiny opponent. Aquila escorted Min to the Liason
officer's side of the table, just into Tyris' peripheral vision the
next time he looked up from the game. Aquila parked Min on his left,
and sat down, opening his case and rummaging through its varied
contents which included a number of small vials, some credit chits
(worthless without the wrist band) and several small items secured at
the request of folks back in Vinculum.
There was also a small bottle of adrenalin analogue, which Aquila
on more than one occasion found useful for the 'panic energy' it
provided. But adrenalin analogue also suppresses theta brain waves.
Aquila felt that a reasonable amount of adrenalin in Tyris might prove
profitable. With this in mind, he watched the game intently.
Tyris' glittering eyes scanned the table, resting for a moment on
Min, a low growl in his throat indicating his recognition. At that
moment, he threw the dice out onto the table and his features softened
into a sleepy-looking aspect. The dice fell--seven. Tyris' jaw edged
slightly open, making him look like a nightmare creature etched
against the glowing haze from the lights. One of the dice quivered on
the felt, stood on a corner for an instant, then fell over--ten.
The Canisian's jaw clamped shut with satisfaction, the port
Liason officer shook his head in disgust and Aquila, feigning
admiration, leaned forward to clap Tyris on the shoulder while deftly
emptying the analogue into the fox's drink.
"My boy," said Aquila charmingly, "I have traveled the galaxy
from end to end to end and never before--"
"Tssah!" Tyris said sourly, pulling his winnings across the
board.
He added that he had no intention of letting Aquila into the game.
Tyris' claws clicked in front of Aquila's face. "So get out!" Tyris
returned to his covetous scrutiny of Min. Which gave Aquila an idea.
"What if I stake Min?"
The Canisian's eyes gleamed. "Your terms?" the fox said most
softly.
"On the outcome of the point, against credit for travel passes to
board the Godolphin."
For an answer Tyris scooped up the dice, growling, and took a
stiff drink, grinning in that particular way the Aquila most hated.
He threw a six and shoved a stack of chips to the center of the table.
The Liason, with nervous reluctance, matched the bet.
"Six is my point," said Tyris, rattling the dice cup. Again the
sleepy look washed over him and the dice flew from the cup.
Between the analogue (which worked perfectly) and Tyris' lost girl
not more than four feet away, his concentration on inducing enough
theta brain waves for the converter to turn into electrostatic force
failed him -- the dice flipped under the Liason First's control.
There was a bellow of surprised rage from from the Canisian as
the disobedient cubes turned up seven. Tyris clawed at his throat,
snatched at his glass and peered suspiciously into it. The jig was
up.
Roars of fury reverberated from wall to wall in the Liason's
quarters as Aquila slipped out through the exit and ran quickly down
the street in the cool dark of the Androzani night.
"Still need travel passes," he sighed. It was then that he noticed
that the convention center was indeed on fire, but people were massed
into mobs around feeding whatever could burn to keep the blaze going.
Aquila pulled Min into the next bar he saw and paid out the last of
his coins to rent a newsfeed monitor. He had to know what else he was
up against other than just Tyris and those heavies back at the party.
The screen squawked to life. "-mobs marching on administration!
Angered populace demands ousting of present officials, charging long-
term corruption! This political pot was brought to boilover tonight
by the exposure of the alleged swindler Solon Aq--"
Aquila snapped the screen off and made a hasty exit before a
holovid of himself was shown and the others at the bar lynched him on
the spot. His mind raced... What the zark was going on? Political
upheaval due to me? Not even I'm _that_ bad! Something's been in the
works here for a long time. Smacks of the Enemy. Whoever the hell
that is. Wish I'd stashed some gin in the case. He darted off in the
direction of the spaceport.
"How ridiculous! At times like these I'm glad I was born into a
civilized race. No sun like Sol," he muttered, creeping hastily under
a fence then holding it up to pull Min under. "There's dark work
afoot my dear. Why was Tyris so anxious to get hold of you? No use
asking in asking you, of course, in your present state. We'd best get
aboard the Godolphin. I feel certain I can get Captain Hoening to
advance us the price of--" Aquila blinked once and looked at Min,
beginning to realize something obvious he missed in the confusion.
The Godolphin was the only ship at port, and she was here. He checked
her wristband, grinning as her travel pass popped out of its slot.
"Futz. One down, one to go."
They were nearly at the spaceport now and the sights and sounds
Aquila heard from the far distance gave him the suspicion that the mob
that had set fire to the Spectrox Consortium was now roving through
their city hunting for fair game. He could not help but offer a
little feeling for the CEO and his entourage. "Ah, the ways of the
civilized universe...dog eat dog...or rather, fox." He grinned,
thinking of Tyris, but then the smile abruptly left his face and he
stood, aghast.
The misty field of the spaceport lay ahead, the Godolphin a long,
double-curved boomerang of a ship that blazed with light. There was a
distant rumble of low thunder as the ship's engines were one by one
being warmed up. A large crowd of passengers was crammed around the
access arm.
"Jeez!" Exclaimed Aquila, "they're taking off! Outrageous!
Without even notifying the passengers--or perhaps it went out on
newsfeed. That's it. But this may be awkward. Captain Hoening will
be on the bridge. And I need a travel pass so I can get on board to
ask him to advance me a travel pass. Pfui!"
The motors grumbled sullenly. Fog blew like cotton ghosts across
the chessboard grid of the field. Aquila sprinted, dragging Min after
him.
"I have a thought," he murmured. "Getting inside the ship is the
first trick. After that, there'll be the passenger check but Captain
Hoening will no doubt--hmm..."
He studied the purser who stood at the head of the docking arm,
taking passes, swiping them through the registry slot and comparing
the results with his manifest, all the time his keen eyes alert.
Though the passengers seemed nervous they kept fair order, apparently
reassured by the confident voice of the ship's officer, who stood
behind the purser.
Into this scene burst Aquila at a wild run, dragging Min and
shouting at the top of his voice. "They're coming!" he shrieked,
dashing through the crowd. It's another off-worlder rebellion! One
would think the Canisians had landed! They're all running and
screaming, 'Androzani Major for the People'."
Towing Min and flailing frantically with his suitcase, Aquila
burst into the center of a group and disintegrated it. Instantly he
dashed through the line on the docking arm and back again, squealing
bloody murder.
At the ship's port the officer was trying to make himself heard
with little success. He was apparently stolidly sticking to his
original lines, which had something to do with the fact that the
Captain had been injured at the convention center but there was no
reason to be alarmed--
"Too late!" shouted Aquila, bundling himself into the center of a
growing nucleus of loud panic. "Hear what they're yelling? 'Kill the
foreign devils!' -- listen to the bloodthirsty savages. Too late, too
late," he screamed, scrambling through mob with Min. "Lock the doors!
Man the beam cannons! Here they come!!"
By now all thought of order had been lost. The passengers were
demoralized into a terrified herd of cattle and Aquila, clinging to
Min and his suitcase, rode the tide up the access arm, over the
prostrate bodies of the ship's officer and purser and into the ship,
where he hastily assembled his various possessions and scrambled for
cover. He fled down the linked corridors at random and finally slowed
to a rapid walk. He was alone, except for Min. from the far distance
came annoyed curses.
"Useful thing, misdirection," Aquila mused. "Only way to get
aboard, however. What was that fool saying about the Captain's being
injured? Nothing serious, I hope. I must hit him for a loan. Now
lets find your cabin, my dear." He extricated the pass from her
wristband. "Ah yes. Stateroom 117 and here it is. We'd better hide
till we're in space. Hear that klaxon? That signals impending
launch, which is useful since it delays the passenger check."
He yanked open the door to stateroom 117 and ushered Min toward a
launch-web, which hung like a hammock spun from silk.
"Get in there and stay until I come back," he ordered. "I've got
to find a launch-web for myself."
The gossamer net attracted Min as surf attracts a mermaid. She
was instantly ensconced in it, her lovely face looking dreamily out
of the softly tinted cloud. She gazed beyond Aquila, unthinking.
Aquila muttered a curse, promising to personally feed whoever did
this to Min twice the dope she's been given. He loved her voice,
robbed from her by the drug. He shut the door and crossed to
stateroom 120, which was luckily unlocked and vacant, with a web
dangling ready. "Very good," Aquila told himself. "Now--"
"You!" said an uncomfortably familiar voice.
Aquila turned quickly on the threshold. Across the passage,
looking at him from the door adjoining Min's, was the ill-tempered
Canisian.
"What a surprise," Aquila said cordially. "My old friend Tyris.
Just the um, fox I wanted to--"
He was not permitted to finish. With a bellow in which the words
"adrenalin analogue" could be distinctly understood, Tyris charged
forward with claws extended. Aquila hastily closed the door and
locked it. There was a crash and someone began to claw viciously at
the panel.
"Outrageous assault on a man's privacy," Aquila muttered.
The hammering on the door grew louder. It was drowned out by the
blast of the klaxon and its resonating warning of an immediate lift to
orbit.
The hammering stopped. The heavy sound of Tyris' footsteps
receded into the distance. Aquila dived for the launch-web,
burrowing into its soft meshes while he secretly hoped that the
savage Canisian would be unable to make it to his room in time and
that the acceleration would break every bone in his body.
Then the launch rockets blazed, the Godolphin rose from the
troubled world and intrigues of Androzani Major and Aquila really
began to get into trouble.
Part Two: Starry Days and Sunny Nights
It is perhaps time to deal in some detail with a matter which had
already involved Aquila. Certain references have been made to
apparently meaningless terms such as Spectas fruit and the planets
Andride and Canis.
On all the inhabited worlds of the trade circuit, in all their
pharmacies and hospitals, there can be seen tiny graduated vials
containing centimeters of an iridescent blue liquid: Spectrox.
Spectrox is a catalysis drug, which elicits in certain life-forms
(containing the proper key sequences in their DNA) the very
dramatic effect of cellular regeneration. Spectrox extends the
average life span threefold in humans alone, and it is speculated that
over a period of centuries of new children born from parents taking
the drug that a life span of a millenium or more is not unrealistic.
Spectrox is distilled from the extracted juice of the Spectas
fruit. In its unrefined form, Spectrox is highly toxic. It is only
after the removal of certain enzymes in the juice that the liquid
becomes viable as a medicine. The first settlers of Androzani Major
discovered this the hard way; they died by the dozens from Spectrox
Toxemia, stricken when they unknowingly ate the wondrous-smelling
fruit. It might be mentioned that the aroma of Spectas is
unmistakable.
Most important, Spectas is indigenous _only_ to Androzani Major.
Its seeds have been safeguarded so strictly that not even Androzani's
great trade rivals, Canis and Andride, have ever managed by either
crooked or honest means to get hold of a single seed.
For decades it had been common knowledge that the Canisians and
their related cousin-species on Andride would have bartered their
souls for some of the seed. Androzani Spectrox was not really all
that effective in the Canisians or Andrideans, but if they could
obtain the plant itself, their respective geneticists and biologists
guaranteed almost certain success in altering the Spectas to suit
their own needs.
The trouble with Spectas, however, is that the growth cycle of
the plant itself must be almost continuous. After the fruit is picked
from the parent plant, its seeds become sterile within twenty-four
hours.
** ** **
"Not a bad launch," Aquila mused, crawling out of the launch-web.
It would be too much to hope that Tyris suffered at least a simple
broken arm, he supposed.
He opened the door, waited until the opposite door leaped open to
reveal the Canisian's imposing bulk whereupon Aquila snapped back into
his own room with the agility of a frightened deer.
"Trapped like a rat," he muttered, beginning with a quick tour of
the cabin. "Where is the comm-link? Outrageous! Ah, here it is.
Connect me with the Captain at once, please. Aquila is the name,
Solon Aquila. Captain Hoening? Let me congratulate you on your take-
off. A magnificent job. I gathered you have had an accident, which I
trust is not serious."
The comm-link croaked hoarsely, caught its breath and said,
"Aquila."
"A throat injury?" Aquila hazarded. "But come to the point,
Captain. You are harboring a homicidal maniac on the Godolphin. That
giant Canisian fox has gone perfectly insane and is lurking outside my
door, stateroom 120 by the way, ready to kill me if I come out.
Kindly send down some armed guards."
The comm-link made ambiguous sounds which Aquila took for assent.
"Thank-you, Captain," he said cheerily. "There is only one other
small matter. It became necessary for me to board the Godolphin at
the last minute and I found it rather inexpedient to obtain a travel
pass. Time presses, you know. I also have taken a girl from Vinculum
under my protection, in order to save her from those designs of Tyris
and his friends back there at the consortium on Major. Hmm, perhaps
it would be wise to keep any knowledge of her presence in stateroom
117 from that blasted fox."
He took a deep breath and leaned comfortably against the wall,
his elbow on the comm-link button. "Frightful things have been
happening, Captain Hoening -- I have been subjected to persecution by
a bloodthirsty mob, an attempt to swindle me at dice on Tyris' part,
threats of violence from Sinc...er, Artemis Sinclair--"
"Sinclair?"
"You may have heard of him under that name, though it's probably
an alias. The man was discharged in disgrace from the Commercial
Space Transport Service for smuggling Earth opium, I believe--"
Someone was knocking at the door. Aquila broke off to listen.
"Quick work, Captain," he said. "I assume these are your guards?"
There was an affirmative grunt and a click. "Au revoir, my old!"
Aquila said cheerfully, and opened the door. Two uniformed officers
of the crew were standing outside, waiting. Across the corridor
Tyris' door was open and the Canisian stood there, growling
malevolently.
"You're armed?" Aquila asked. "Prepare yourselves for a possible
treacherous attack from that murderous beast behind you."
"Stateroom 120," one of the men said. "Name, Aquila? Captain
wants to see you."
"Naturally," Aquila said, grabbing a glass and mixing a quick G&T
at the wall-bar before stepping confidently into the corridor, making
certain, however, that one of the officers was between him and Tyris.
Nonchalantly sipping at his drink, he paused abruptly, his nostrils
quivering.
"Let's go," the other officer said.
Aquila did not move. From behind the Canisian a breath of dim
fragrance drifted like a whisper from paradise.
He rapidly gulped down the rest of his G&T, tossed the glass back
into the room and hurried off down the corridor, leading the way.
"Come, come, my men," he admonished. "To the Captain. Important
matters are afoot."
"We wouldn't know," the senior of the two officers said
sarcastically and slipping in front of Aquila while the other one fell
in behind. Aquila allowed himself to be escorted into the officers'
quarters, where he caught sight of himself in a reflecting bulkhead
and smiled assuredly.
"Imposing," he murmured. "No giant like Tyris, of course, but
unquestionably imposing in my own fashion. The slight rotundity
around my middle merely indicates that I live well. Ah, Captain
Hoening! Very good, my men, you may leave us now as no doubt the
Captain and I have private matters to discuss. That's right. Close
the door as you go. Now, Captain--"
The man behind the desk lifted his gaze slowly, looking as he
usually did a perfect cross between a wrestler and a monk. He was, of
course, Artemis Sinclair of the CSTS. His face was beet red.
"Smuggling opium, indeed!" said Sinc, exhibiting his teeth to the
terrified Aquila. "Discharged in disgrace--pfah! You thieving,
libellous scum, just what am I going to do with you?"
"Mutiny!" said Aquila wildly. "What have you done? Led the crew
to mutiny and taken over the Godolphin? I warn you, this crime will
not go unpunished. Where's Captain Hoening?"
"Captain Hoening," said Sinc, repressing his rage with a violent
effort of will, "is in a hospital on Androzani Major. Apparently he
got caught up in that stunt you pulled at the convention center.
Lucky for me I got out when I saw what was happening. The result is
that I am captain of the Godolphin. Offer me no bribes, you damned
renegade. I am interested in only one thing. You have no travel
pass."
"You must have misunderstood me," Aquila corrected. "Naturally I
had a pass. I gave it to your purser when I came aboard. Those comm-
links are notoriously unreliable."
"So are some poker games, especially when the cards are marked
for ultraviolet light reading." The large hands closed significantly.
"Lay a finger on me at your peril," Aquila said, with faint
bluster. "I have the rights of a citizen of--"
"Oh, yes," Sinc agreed, "but not the rights of a passenger on
this ship. Therefore you'll work your way to the next port, Andride,
and there you'll be thrown off the Godolphin by me personally."
"I'll buy a ticket," Aquila offered. "At the moment, I happen to
be slightly embarrassed--"
"If I catch you mingling with the passengers or engaging in any
games of chance with anyone at all you will find yourself in the
brig." Captain Sinclair said firmly. "Marked cards, is it?
Smuggling opium! Ha!"
Aquila spoke wildly of a jury of his peers, at which Sinc laughed
mockingly.
"If I'd have caught up with you back on Androzani," he said, "I'd
have taken great pleasure in kicking your rear halfway around the
planet. Now I will get a good deal more satisfaction out of knowing
that you are hard at work as one of my crew. Aboard this ship you
will be honest even if it kills you. And if you have in mind that
hussy of yours in stateroom 117 I have checked quite thoroughly and
you cannot possibly figure out a way to swipe her pass."
"You can't part a guardian and ward like this! It's..inhuman!"
cried Aquila.
"Out with you, man," Sinc said irately, rising. "To work, for
probably the first time in your misspent life."
Aquila frowned, deciding that letting Sinc in on some of why he
was really here was the only way to save his hide. Being stranded on
Andride -- it would all be disastrously over.
"Wait," said Aquila. "You'll regret it if you don't listen to me.
There's a crime being committed on this ship."
"Certainly," Sinc replied, "and you're committing it, you
stowaway. Out!" He spoke into the comm-link, the door opened and the
two officers stood waiting expectantly.
"No, no!" Aquila yelled, "It's Tyris! The Canisian! He--"
"If you swindled him as you swindled me," Sinc began.
"He's a smuggler!" Aquila shouted, struggling in the grip of the
officers who were dragging him steadily toward the door. "He's
smuggled Spectas from Androzani Major! I smelled the stuff, I tell
you! You're carrying contraband, Captain Sinclair!"
"Wait," Sinc ordered. "Put him down. Is this a trick?"
"I smelled it," Aquila insisted. It's unmistakable. He must
have the plants in his cabin."
"The plants?" Sinc pondered. "Now, I wonder. Hmmm...all right,
men. Invite Tyris to my office." He dropped back into his chair,
studying Aquila.
"Say no more, Captain Sinclair. You need not apologize for
mistaken zeal. Having exposed this villainous Canisian, I shall break
him down step by step until he confesses all. He will naturally be
put in the brig, which will leave his cabin vacant. I leave it to
your sense of fair play--"
"Shut your trap," growled Sinc. He scowled steadily at the door.
Presently it opened to admit Tyris.
The Canisian stalked forward casually until he caught sight of
Aquila. Instantly his teeth were bared; a clawed hand rose ominously.
"Now, now, man!" Sinc warned Tyris.
"Certainly," put in Aquila. "Remember where you are, sir. All
is discovered, Tyris. Lies will get you nowhere. Step by step
Captain Sinclair and I have uncovered your plot. You are in the pay
of your Andridean kin. A hired spy, you stole Spectas seeds from
Androzani Major and the Spectas is even now in your cabin, proof."
Sinc looked thoughtfully at the Canisian.
"Well?" he finally asked.
"Wait," said Aquila. "When Tyris realizes that all is known he
will see the uselessness of silence. Let me go on." Since it was
obviously impossible to stop Aquila, Captain Sinclair merely grunted
and began to study screens of information via the terminal on his
desk. Tyris twitched his claws.
"A feeble scheme from the beginning," Aquila said. "Even to me,
a guest of the Cygnus Conglomerate on Androzani Major and not one of
their trained agents, it became immediately evident that corruption
was at work. Need we seek far for the answer? I think not. For we
are even now heading straight for Andride, a world which has -- like
your own -- tried frantically for a century to break the Spectrox
monopoly. If you only knew what catastrophe you were precipitating."
He aimed an accusing finger at Tyris.
"With Andridean and Canisian funds and most importantly, Tyris,"
Aquila charged, "those doped-up girls, you came to Androzani and by
way of bribery and the ladies' forced espionage you got hold of some
Spectas seeds and circumvented the usual customs search. You need not
reply yet," Aquila added hastily since he had no intention of cutting
short his hour of triumph.
Tyris made a savage noise in his throat. "Adrenalin analogue,"
he said, reminded of something. He made a sudden dodge toward Aquila.
Aquila darted behind Sinc's desk and cowered behind the Captain's
chair. "Call your men," he suggested. "He's running amuck. Disarm
him."
"You can't disarm a Canisian without dismembering him," Captain
Sinclair said rather absently, looking up from the display screen.
"Ah...Tyris, You deny this charge laid against you?"
"How can he deny it?" Aquila demanded. "The short-sighted
scoundrel planted the seeds in his cabin without even setting up an
odor neutralizer. He deserves no mercy, the fool."
"Well?" Sinc asked, in an oddly doubtful manner.
Tyris shook his massive shoulders, slammed his fist onto the desk
and spread his jaws in what was apparently a grin.
"Smuggled Spectas?" Tyris asked. "Sure. So?"
"Convicted out of his own mouth," Aquila decided. "Nothing else
is necessary. Confine him, Captain. We will share the reward."
"No," Captain Sinclair said, turning off the terminal. "You have
put your foot in it again, Aquila. You are obviously not an expert in
interstellar law. We are now beyond the sphere of influence of
Androzani Major and therefore beyond their jurisdiction, according to
what is outlined here." Sinc tapped the top of the terminal. "It is
the job of Androzani officials to keep their Spectas from being stolen
and smuggled off-world and since they failed, I am afraid I cannot
interfere."
"That's it," Tyris said with beastial satisfaction.
Aquila gasped. "You condone smuggling, Captain Sinclair?"
"I'm covered," the Canisian said, making a coarse gesture toward
Aquila.
Sinclair sighed. "He's right, Aquila. Point of law makes it
perfectly clear. As far as I'm concerned he is permitted to keep the
Spectas in his cabin. Or any other contraband, for that matter."
Tyris snorted and turned toward the door.
"But he has threatened me," said Aquila. My life isn't safe
around that Canisian. No one's really is. Just look at those claws."
"Yes," said Sinclair reluctantly, "You know the penalty for
murder, Tyris? Good. I order you not to murder this no doubt
deserving miscreant. I am bound to enforce transit law, so don't let
me catch you assaulting Aquila within sight of me or any other
officer."
Tyris seemed to understand. He laughed hoarsely, bared his
claws at Aquila and stalked out. The two officers were visible
outside the door.
"Here," Captain Sinclair ordered. "I have a job for you two.
Take this stowaway down to support services and turn him over to the
Chief."
"No, no," pleaded Aquila, retreating. "Don't you dare lay a
finger on me! Put me down! Outrageous! I will not go down that ramp!
Release me! Captain Sinclair, I demand-- Captain Sinclair!!"
Sinclair leaned back in his chair as the door closed. "Bloody
nuisance, wherever he goes."
** ** **
Days passed, arbitrarily, aboard the Godolphin.
Min lay curled in her launch-web, the drug that kept her only
partly cognizant still holding her in its grip as the timed-release
microcapsule placed subcutaneously in her leg provided another dose.
High upon the wall of her cabin there was a wheezing sound and a short
scuffle ending in a curse. Behind the grille of the air-recycling
inlet appeared the face of Aquila.
"Ah, my lovely," he said kindly. "So there you are. Now they
have me creeping down the maintenance tubes like a worm."
He tested the grille cautiously.
"Sealed, like all the others," he observed. "However, I assume
you're being well treated, my dear." He glanced greedily around at
the covered lunch tray on a nearby table. Min looked dreamily at
nothing.
"I have sent a FTLcomm," Aquila announced from the wall. "I
offered some small items of meager value and sadly, of great sentiment
and raised enough to purchase time on an FTL transponder. Luckily I
still have my CSTS comm permit."
"Of better interest, I have just received a reply. Now I must
run a grave risk, my dear, a grave risk. For us all. Today the
conditions of the ship's pool -- a lottery, you know -- will be
announced in the forward lounge. I must be there, even at the risk of
being brigged by Captain Sinclair and attacked by Tyris. It will not
be easy. I might add that I've been subjected to every indignity
imaginable, my dear, except perhaps--Phum!" he added, as the safety
cord tied around his ankle tightened and drew him backward up the
shaft.
His distant cries grew fainter. He announced in a fading voice
that he had a vial of 2,4,5-trichlorophenoxyacetic acid in his pocket
and that broken glass was a safety hazard. So saying he departed into
inaudibility.
"Ah? Well," Aquila philosophized as he flew down a corridor
slightly ahead of the physical plant inspector's hurtling toe-cap,
"Justice is blind. This is my thanks for working overtime--at least
five minutes of overtime? But now I am off duty and free to set my
plans in motion."
A few minutes later, having eluded the inspector and improving
his ruffled appearance somewhat, he made his way toward the lounge.
"There's one point in my favor," he reflected. "Tyris apparently
does not know Min is on board. The last time he chased me he has
still speaking bitterly of my part in abandoning her on Androzani
Major. Unhappily that is just about the only point in my favor. I
must now mingle with the passengers in the forward lounge, while
remaining undiscovered by Tyris, Sinc, or any ship's officer. Bad
odds, my old, bad odds."
As Aquila made his way cautiously toward the lounge his memory
dwelt all too vividly on his recent progress from riches to rags. His
meteoric descent from job to worse job had been little short of
phenomenal.
"Pfui--like using a surgeon's microtome to do leather work," he
complained.
Sinc had sent him to the hull repair staff. "Pick up that
cutting laser," he was told. Instantly he began to work out the most
efficient application of the cutting beam on the work piece. Except
that it was too efficient and the repair job melted into slag.
Aquila was then, by request, taken off the hull staff and put to
work elsewhere. But, as he took pains to illustrate, his frame of
reference did not include special skills in the processing of garbage
for reactor fuel, calibrating the environmental controls or the
crowbar testing of replacement power transfer conduits. He proved
this empirically.
So he was, again by request, removed to hydroponics, where the
incident of the radioactive carbon tracer occurred. He said it wasn't
the carbon, it was the gammaexene. (Besides it wasn't really the
gammaexene so much as his inadvertent neglect to supplement the
algaecide with cadmium oxide.)
But when thirty square feet of lettuce began breathing out carbon
monoxide as a result of sudden heredity changes brought on by the
gammaexene Aquila was promptly sent down to the galley, where he
introduced a growth hormone into the soup with nearly catastrophic
results.
At the moment he was a nondescript member of the ship's physical
plant staff, where he did the jobs nobody else wanted to do.
More and more he had become conscious of the odor of Spectas
pervading the ship. Nothing could disguise its distinctive fragrance,
which seeped by osmosis through airtight membranes, trickled along the
surface of molecular films and very likely rode piggyback on wandering
quanta. As Aquila made his stealthy way toward the lounge he realized
that the word Spectas was on every tongue, just as he anticipated.
He paused warily on the threshold of the lounge, which ran like a
great bow around the front curvature of the entire ship.
Here was sophistication and luxury. Here, he grinned, was home.
Aquila's stomach yearned toward the tempting buffets. An ornate wet-
bar swung slowly past on its monorail track. Space music floated
across the room from a synthesist set up on the far side, the dreamy
notes combining with the heady fragrance of the Spectas to evoke a
sensuous atmosphere.
Aquila stood with unobtrusive dignity near the door for several
minutes, regarding the crowd. He was waiting for the appearance of
Captain Sinclair. Soon a murmur of interested comment began to arise
from the crowd near the other door; the Captain had arrived. Aquila
disappeared into the crowd.
Sinc stood at the bottom of a section of the lounge meant to be
an amphitheatre, looking up at his audience with an unaccustomed smile
on his face. There was no trace of Aquila, though a repressed mutter
of comment came occasionally from behind a broad-chested fellow that
looked to be from one of the heavy-gravity worlds.
Captain Sinclair spoke.
"As you probably know," he said, we are here to arrange the
conditions of the lottery of the ship's pool. Some of you may not
have travelled interstellar before, so the acting first mate will
explain how this is done. Mr. Albrecht, please."
Mr. Albrecht, a serious young man, took the stage. He cleared
his throat, hesitated and looked around as a brief burst of applause
came from Aquila's hidden position.
"Thank you," he said. "Many of you may be familiar with the old-
time ship's pool, in which passengers guessed the time of arrival into
port. In space, of course, given the FTL navigational beacons and
automatic nature of the ship's compensating clocks, we know exactly
when the Godolphin will arrive on Andride, which will be--"
"Come, come, my man, get to the point," an unidentified voice put
in from the audience. Captain Sinclair was observed to glance sharply
in the direction of Aquila's hiding place.
"Eh--quite," said Mr. Albrecht. "Does anyone have a suggestion?"
"Guessing the date on a coin," a voice said eagerly, but it was
drowned out by a chorus of cries mentioning the word Spectas.
"Spectas?" Captain Sinclair asked with hypocritical blankness.
"The elixir stuff, you mean?"
There was some polite laughter. A smallish man was waving and
got the floor.
"Captain Sinclair," he said. "How about running a Spectas-seed
lottery here, the way they do on Androzani Major? The way it's done,
I think, is by betting on how many seeds there are in the first
Spectas fruit of their annual crop. The number always varies.
Sometimes there are a few hundred, sometimes a few thousand and
there's no way of counting them until the fruit's cut open. If Tyris
could be induced to agree, perhaps--"
"Allow me," Captain Sinclair said. "I'll consult Tyris."
It had long since ceased to be a secret that the Canisian was
keeping smuggled Spectas plants in his cabin. Sinc talked in a low
voice with the giant fox while Tyris looked blackly around the room.
At first he would have nothing to do with the lottery, but finally, in
return for half-share in the pool, he assented. Only the unparalleled
chance to boast about this lottery for the rest of their lives led the
passengers to put up with his inordinate greed. But presently all was
arranged.
"The stewards will circulate among you," Captain Sinclair said.
"Write your guess and your name on these slips of vellum and drop them
into a box which will be provided. Hmm? Yes, Tyris, you are
permitted to participate too."
The Canisian insisted. He wasn't missing a bet. After long
hesitation he put down a number, angrily scrawled the universal
phonetic of his name and had turned to stalk away when something more
subtle than the Spectas' fragrance began to drift through the lounge.
Heads turned. Voices died in mid-sentence. Tyris, glancing around in
surprise found himself facing the door. His infuriated bellow rang
from the walls for several seconds.
Min, standing on the threshold, paid no attention. Her lovely
eyes gazed into the far distances. The hypnotic power of her altered
mind drifted languidly out from her. Already she was affecting the
awareness of every living organism in the room, and Tyris was not
excluded. However, as has been described, whenever a Canisian feels
this good his rage knows no bounds.
"Mine!" Tyris slavered, swinging toward the Captain. "The girl--
mine!"
"Get your claws away from my face, man," Captain Sinclair warned.
"If you will join me in this quiet corner perhaps you can state your
case in a more courteous fashion. Now, what is it?"
Tyris demanded Min. He produced a card which appeared to state
that he had travelled to Androzani Major with Min as her guardian.
Sinc fingered his jaw undecidedly. Meanwhile there was a scuffle
among the thronging passengers who were pressing their slips of vellum
into the boxes the stewards held out. The breathless figure of Aquila
burst out of the crowd just in time to snatch Min from Tyris'
possessively descending claws.
"Back, wolf!" he ordered threateningly. "Lay a claw on that girl
at your peril." Towing her, he dodged behind the Captain as Tyris
lunged.
"I thought so," Sinc said, lifting a cautioning finger at Tyris.
"Were you not specifically forbidden to mingle with the passengers,
Aquila?"
"This is a matter of law enforcement," Aquila said. "Min is my
ward, not that criminal hyena's."
"Can you prove this?" Sinc asked. "That certificate of his--"
Aquila tore the card from Tyris' grip, scanned it hastily,
snapped it in two and threw it onto the floor.
"Nonsense! he said scornfully, producing a card of his own in an
accusing manner. "Read this, Captain. As you will observe it is
Priority One from Vinculum, Min's home port. It points out that Min
was illegally abducted -- along with sixty of her friends, I might add
-- and that a Canisian is suspected in connection with the crime."
"Eh?" Sinclair said. "One moment, Tyris." But the Canisian was
already hastily stomping his way out of the lounge. Sinc scowled at
the message card, looked up and beckoned to a legal acquaintance from
amid the throng. There was a brief discussion, from which Sinc came
back shaking his head.
"Sorry, can't do much about this, Aquila," he said. "It isn't a
CSTS offence, unfortunately. I find I'm empowered only to turn Min
over to her rightful guardian and since she has none--"
"Your error, Captain," Aquila broke in. "You want her rightful
guardian? You're looking at him." He shoved another card at Sinc.
"Read the rest of the message."
"What?" Sinclair demanded.
"Exactly. Solon Aquila, of Vinculum. That's what it says. The
Vinculum Administration has accepted my offer to stand in as guardian
to Min."
Captain Sinclair sighed. "Very well. Min is your ward. You will
have to take that up with the Andridean authorities when we arrive for
as sure as my name is Artemis Sinclair you'll go ass over head out the
door the minute we land there. You and Tyris can fight it out there.
In the meantime I do not allow a crewman to mingle with my passengers!
Now get out of here!"
"I demand the rights of a passenger," Aquila said excitedly,
backing up a step or two. "The price of the travel pass includes the
ship's lottery and I demand--"
"You are not a passenger. You're a damned insubordinate member
of my crew!"
"Min's a passenger!" Aquila contended wildly. "She's entitled to
take part in the pool, isn't she? Well then, a slip, please,
Captain."
Sinclair growled under his breath. But finally he beckoned to
the steward with the slotted box.
"Let her write her own guess," he insisted stubbornly.
"Nonsense," Aquila defended. "Min's my ward. I'll write it for
her. Furthermore, if by any miraculous chance she should happen to
win the pool, it will be my duty to administer the credits in the best
interests of her welfare, which obviously means the purchase of two
passes to Vinculum."
"Man, I've had it. Why quibble?" Sinc said suddenly. "Fine. If
you're lucky enough to have a miracle happen, fair enough."
Aquila, concealing what he wrote, folded the vellum and pushed it
through the slot. Sinclair took a thermaplastic seal and small iron
from the steward and pressed the seal in place across the box-top.
"Personally," Aquila said, watching him, "I feel slightly
degraded by the atmosphere of the Godolphin. What with condoning
smuggling, shyster tactics and pure vicious gambling, I'm forced to
conclude, Captain, that you're running a crime ship. Come, Min, let
us find some purer air."
Part Three: The Art of Misdirection
Captain Sinclair and his acting first stood on the observation
deck, watching the Andridean orbit crew undock the FTL engine from the
Godolphin with practiced ease. Another hour and he would be rid of
all his troubles, Sinc grinned, thinking of Aquila. He turned to
Albrecht.
"The wonder is that Aquila had escaped Tyris' claws this long,
the way he's been trying to get at those Spectas plants. What puzzles
me is what he hopes to accomplish by sneaking around the Canisian's
cabin with magnetometers and microwave antennas and even a
spectroscope. Whatever he wrote down in the lottery box cannot be
changed. The box is in my personal safe."
"Suppose he finds a way to open the safe?" the acting first
offered.
"Very unlikely. In addition to the magnetic lock there is the
security field keyed to the alpha emissions of my own brain," Captain
Sinclair pointed out. "He cannot possibly--ha! Speak of the devil,
Mr. Albrecht, look who's coming!"
"The stocky yet agile form of Aquila came running rapidly along
the corridor, one step ahead of Tyris. Aquila was breathing in
wheezing gasps. At the sight of the Captain and first officer he
dived behind them like a grouse driven to cover. Tyris, blind with
fury, champed his dripping jaws in the Captain's very face.
"Control yourself, man!" Sinc said ominously, one hand on his
sidearm. The Canisian made a fearful howling and waved a card wildly
in the air.
"Man, indeed," Aquila said with some bitterness, from his
position of precarious safety. "He's nothing but a megalamanic hyena!
It's getting so any object can be classified as humanoid these days."
"Shutup, Aquila. A figure of speech," Sinc said irritably. "What
is it, Tyris? What's this card you keep shoving in my face?"
The Canisian was understood to growl some thing to the effect
that Aquila had dropped it while fleeing. He recommended that the
Captain read it carefully.
"Later," Sinclair said, thrusting it into his pocket. "We're due
to land on Andride very soon and I must be on the bridge. Get to your
cabin, Aquila."
Aquila obeyed with surprising diligence, at least until he was
out of sight. Tyris, growling thickly, followed him. Only then did
Sinclair pull the card from his pocket. He examined it, snorted and
handed it to the acting first. Aquila's neat handwriting covered one
side of the card:
Problem: Find out how many seeds in the first ripe Spectas fruit.
How to look inside a sealed fruit in which all the seeds may not yet
be formed yet? Ordinary vision useless.
First day: Attempted to introduce radioactive dye into Spectas
so I could use x-rays and film and count radioactivity day by day and
work up useful graphs. Failed. Tyris installed booby traps.
Second day: Tried to focus infrared on Spectas, to pick up
secondary emissions with long wave interferometer. Failed.
Third day: Experimented in long-distance color staining of
Spectas cells with tunable dye laser. Failed.
Fourth day: Attempted to release chloroform into Tyris's
quarters. Failed. Impossible to get close enough to fruit to try
analysis through positive ion emissions. Am beginning to suspect
Tyris was responsible for Captain Hoening's hospitalization back on
Androzani Major.
There the short diary ended. Mr. Albrecht looked up
questioningly.
"I had not realized Aquila was applying science so thoroughly,"
Sinclair remarked. "But this merely confirms what Tyris told me weeks
ago. He said Aquila was constantly trying to get at the Spectas. But
he could not, and now we must prepare for landing, Mr. Albrecht."
Sinc hurried away, followed by the acting first. The corridor
lay empty and silent for a little while. Then a chime sounded from
the comm-link on the wall and it spoke.
"General announcement," it said. "Passengers and crew of the
Godolphin, your attention, please. Prepare for landing. Immediately
afterwards, passengers will assemble in the forward lounge for
Andridean customs procedures. The results of the ship's pool will
also be announced. Your attendance is compulsory. Thank you."
There was a silence, then Sinc's voice sounded. "That means you,
Aquila," it said grimly. "Understand? You'd better."
Forty minutes later the Godolphin landed on Andride.
Yanked protesting from his cabin, Aquila was dragged to the
forward lounge, where everyone else was already assembled. A group of
Andridean officials, concealing their joy with some difficulty, was
also in evidence, making a rather easy search of the passengers, while
other Andrideans went through the ship quickly, testing for
contraband.
But it was obvious that the contraband that excited them was the
Spectas. A table had been set up in the middle of the big room and
upon it, each plant in its own little environmentally controlled
container, the Spectas stood. Plump light blue fruit dangled from the
branches, with a pink glow of ripeness tinging their downy surfaces.
An odor of pure delight exhaled from the plants. Tyris stood guarding
them, occasionally exchanging words with an Andridean official, the
two very much looking like a giant father and his young son.
"Outrageous!" cried Aquila, struggling. "I merely needed another
few minutes' work with a vitally important experiment I was--"
"Oh, shutup," Captain Sinclair advised. "I shall take great
pleasure in kicking you off the Godolphin myself."
"Leaving me to the tender mercies of that brute of a fox? He'll
kill me! I appeal to your natural sense of justice!"
Captain Sinclair conferred briefly with the Andridean leader, who
nodded.
"Quite right, Captain," the official said pedantically. "Under
our laws debtors work out their debts, crime is assessed by its
results and the aggressor forced to pay full reparations. Homicide
naturally always carries the death penalty. Why do you ask?"
"That applies even to Tyris?" Sinclair persisted.
"Of course," the Andridean replied.
"Well, then," Sinc said significantly to Aquila.
"Well, then what?" He'll be so rich he won't even care about
paying reparations for the privilege of committing mayhem on my
person. I bruise very easily."
"Aye, particularly that ego of yours. But at least he will not
kill you," Sinclair said comfortingly. "And it will be a final lesson
to you."
"Then I intend to get in at least one good blow," said Aquila,
seizing a flashlight (*atomic batteries not included) from the belt of
a nearby crewman and giving Tyris a resounding whack across the snout.
The Canisian let out a shriek of fury and lunged forward while Aquila,
brandishing the flashlight like a club, stepped backward, threatening
even as he retreated.
"Come on you overgrown puppy," Aquila shouted valiantly, "We'll
have it out now, man to fox!"
"Go get him, Aquila!" shouted an enthusiastic passenger.
"Stand back, you two!" bellowed Captain Sinclair, motioning his
officers to stand between them. But the Andrideans were there before
them. They formed a quick barrier between the combatants and one of
them tore the flashlight from Aquila's grasp.
"If he has harmed you, Tyris, he will make reparations," the
leader of the officials said. "Law is law. Are you injured?"
Despite Tyris' inarticulate howls and gutturals, it was obvious
he was not. Andridean jurisprudence takes no notice of injured pride.
"Let's get this settled," Captain Sinclair said, annoyed at
having his forward lounge turned into a shambles. "There are only
three passengers disembarking here. Min, Tyris and Aquila."
Aquila looked around for Min, found her and, darting over, tried
to hide behind her back.
"Ah yes," the leading Andridean said. "Tyris has already
explained the matter of the ship's pool in FTLcomm. We will permit
the lottery. However, certain conditions must be observed. No non-
Andridean will be allowed to approach this table, and I will do the
seed counting myself."
"That will be satisfactory," Sinclair said, picking up the sealed
ballot box and retreating. "If you'll cut open the ripest of the fruit
and count the seeds I'll then open this box and announce the winner."
"Wait!" Aquila cried out but his voice was ignored. The leading
Andridean had picked up a silver knife from the table, plucked the
largest, ripest Spectas fruit and cut it neatly in two. The halves
rolled apart on the table--to reveal a perfectly empty hollow within
the fruit.
The Andridean's shout of dismay echoed through the lounge. The
silver knife flashed, chopping the fruit to fragments. But not a
single seed glittered in the creamy pulp. "What's happened?" Aquila
demanded. "No seeds? Obviously a swindle. I never trusted Tyris
from the day I met him. He's been gloating--"
"Silence," the Andridean said coldly. In a subdued quiet he used
the silver knife again and again in an atmosphere of mounting tension.
"No seeds?" Captain Sinclair asked blankly as the last fruit fell
open, empty. The Andridean made no reply. He was toying with the
silver knife and regarding Tyris.
That one seemed as astounded as anyone else but as Aquila audibly
remarked, it was hard to tell, with a Canisian. Captain Sinclair
courageously broke the ominous silence by stepping forward to remind
the Andrideans that he was a representative of the CSTS.
"Have no fear," the Andridean said coldly. "We have no
jurisdiction in your ship, Captain."
Aquila's voice rose in triumph.
"I never trusted that criminal fox from the start," he announced,
strutting forward. "He merely took your money and made a deal for
seedless Spectas. He is obviously a criminal--that's what too many
years in corporate raiding do to you; ready to swindle even your own
kin. That, plus his known addiction to adrenalin analogue--"
At that point Tyris charged down upon Aquila, raging uncon-
trollably. At the last moment, Aquila shot toward the open port and
the Andridean daylight outside. Tyris thundered after him, howling
with fury.
At their leader's quick command, the other Andrideans hurried
after Aquila. There were distant noises of a struggle from outside.
Presently Aquila reappeared, panting and alone.
"Suspicious creatures, Canisians," he said, nodding familiarly to
the Andridean leader. "I see your men have detained Tyris."
"Yes," the Andridean said. "Outside, he is of course under our
jurisdiction."
"The thought had occurred to me," Aquila remarked, drifting
toward Min.
"Now wait a minute," Sinclair said to the Andrideans. "You have
not--"
"We are not barbarians," the Andridean said with dignity. "We
gave Tyris twenty-five million universal credits from Andridean and
Canisian funds to do a job for us and he has failed. Unless he can
return the twenty-five million, plus costs, he must work it out. The
man-hour"--here Aquila was seen to wince--"the man-hour on Andride is
the equivalent of one sixty-fourth of a credit."
"This is highly irregular," the Captain said. "However, it's out
of my jurisdiction now. You, Aquila--stop looking so smug. You get
off at Andride too, remember. I advise you to stay out of Tyris'
way."
"I expect he'll be busy most of the time," Aquila said
cheerfully. "I hate to remind a supposedly competent officer of his
duties, but haven't you forgotten that slight matter of the ship's
pool?"
"What?" Sinclair glanced blankly at the remains of the pulped
fruit. "The pool's called off, of course."
"Nonsense," Aquila interrupted. "Let's have no evasions. One
might suspect you of trying to avoid a payoff."
"Man, you're crazy. How can there be a payoff? The lottery was
based on guessing the seed count in a Spectas fruit and it's perfectly
obvious the Spectas has no seeds. Very well. If no one has any
objections--"
"I object!" Aquila cried. "On behalf of my ward, I demand that
every single guess be counted and tabulated."
"Be reasonable," Sinc urged. "If you are merely delaying the evil
moment when I kick you off the ship--"
"You've got to wind up the pool legally," Aquila insisted.
"Ok,ok,ok...anything to get you to shutup!" Sinclair snapped,
picking up the sealed box and attaching a small device to it. "Just as
you like. But I am on to you, Aquila. Now, quiet please, everybody."
Captain Sinclair keyed the combination and the box flew open,
releasing a flutter of slips. At Sinc's gesture a passenger stepped
forward and began to open the slips, reading off names and guesses.
"So you gain maybe five minutes," Sinclair said under his breath
to Aquila. "Then out you go after Tyris and let me say it is perfectly
obvious you lured him out of the Godolphin on purpose."
"Nonsense," Aquila said briskly. "Am I to blame if Tyris focused
his ridiculous anti-social emotions on me?"
"Ha!," Sinc barked. "You damn well know you are."
"Gounrt Kreesh, seven hundred forty-six," called the passenger
unfolding another slip. "Liur'tse, two thousand ninety-eight. Min,
per--"
There was a pause.
"Well?" Captain Sinclair prompted, collaring Aquila. "Well,
man?"
"Min, per Solon Aquila--" the passenger continued and again
halted.
"What is it? What number did he guess?" Sinclair demanded,
pausing at the open port with one foot lifted ready to boot the
surprisingly philosophical Aquila down the accessway. "I asked you a
question! What number's on the slip?"
"Zero," said the passenger, softly.
"Exactly!" Aquila declared, wriggling free of Sinc's shocked
hands. "And now, Captain Sinclair, I'll thank you to hand over half
the ship's pool to me, as Min's guardian--less, of course, the price
of our passage to Vinculum. As for Tyris' half of the take, send it
to him with my compliments." His eyes were twinkling.
"Perhaps it will knock a few months off of his sentence, which,
if my figures are correct, come to six hundred and thirty-five
Andridean years. After all," Aquila mused, "he's not my enemy. In my
business, one really has no enemies or friends. Come, Min, my dear. I
must choose a suitable cabin."
So saying, Aquila obtained a large G&T from the rolling bar and
sauntered sprightly away, leaving Captain Sinclair staring straight
ahead and moving his lips as though in slow prayer. The prayer became
audible.
"Aquila," Sinclair called. "Aquila! How did you do it!"
** ** **
The Nexus Bar and Grille was full of activity. On everyone's
mind were the recent events concerning the mass-abduction. Aquila
grinned hellos to friends he saw as he made his way to one of the
private tables. Sitting there, immersed in his whiskey and soda, was
Captain Sinclair. Aquila waved at Flirtacia to bring him his usual
G&T, and another whiskey for the Captain. Then he sat down heavily,
regarding Sinc with a grin.
"Apologies, Sinc...had to see what could be done for my poor Min.
Left her in Shevy's care aboard his ship. Considering that my friends
who shanghied her in the first place are still lurking about, seemed
the best thing for me to do. She'll be safe there. Phum! There's
Querist! Be back in a jiff!"
Captain Sinclair took in a long draught of whiskey and sat back,
half-thinking of retirement from the crazy lifestyle that interstellar
commerce now seemed to demand. He watched as Aquila engaged in
animated conversation with the doctor and in less than a minute Q
politely excused himself from the others at his table and left.
Aquila sauntered back to his seat beside Sinc.
"Heh..had to get someone I can trust to see what can be done for
my girl. He'll get her patched up," said Aquila, downing a fair
portion of his G&T. Sinc seemed impatient.
"I am still waiting to hear how you did it, Aquila," Sinclair
said. "A bargain's a bargain, you know. I put my name on your
application and even brought you two back here myself."
"I cannot but admit," Aquila said quite humbly, "that your
authorization facilitated my getting Min's guardianship, bless her
heart. And certainly your graciousness in bringing us home."
"Stop buttering me up," Sinc growled. "I still have to turn over
my log at the end of my run. I must know what happened concerning
that Spectas. Otherwise, do you think I'd have gone out on a limb and
guaranteed your tortuous character, even though I carefully added 'to
the best of my knowledge'? No. You wrote that zero when I saw you do
it, long before the fruit ripened."
"Right," Aquila said, guzzling his G&T. "It was a simple problem
in misdirection. I suppose there's no harm in telling you how I did
it. One thing, though. Other than the matter of my winning the
Spectas lottery you must NOT place anything else of what I say in your
report. Very high stakes in these business games, my old, and they
are far from over."
Aquila motioned for other G&T. After Flirtacia left, he reached
over and switched on the sound baffle.
"Well, it starts before our chance meeting on Androzani. The
Chief of the Cygnus Conglomerate, that company which is in charge of
the security and production of Spectrox, invited me to their
consortium, ostensibly to play host to their lottery. In business
circles it is well-known that I covered some of their stock sold short
in a hostile takeover attempt -- by a Canisian-owned holding company,
by the way -- and kept them from going under. Their invitation for me
to play host was a note of thanks for my previous assistance; at least
that is what anyone else learning of my invitation would think. And
why not, that much is perfectly true. Spies are everywhere, and they
trust nothing so much as accurate information."
"Anyway, something that the spies are very unlikely to know is
that the CEO of Cygnus would _never_ ask me to do something so
absurdly trivial as slice up a bunch of fruit in front of a roomful of
drunken, rich idiots and their bimbos. If I was invited there it was
because of some considerable crisis they were forseeing. I spoke with
the CEO just before you came in and started throwing shoes at me. He
told me that all he could discover was that somehow a chain of
espionage had successfully been installed on Androzani, and that he
feared that some Spectas seeds had already been stolen from one of the
labs and passable fakes put in their place."
Aquila took a long pull at his G&T. "Something else. And keep
it quiet! Your Captain Hoening also at times works for Cygnus. I
talked with him just prior to departing Vinny for Andro Z. He followed
two days later on the Godolphin." Aquila grinned. "I of course had no
idea you were his first officer. Anyway, Canis and Andride -- whom we
may call the Enemy -- had their goons all over the place. One of them
must have been set onto Captain Hoening. A relief the Captain
survived; he is a good chess player. Oh, and of course they sent
Tyris, my best adversary, to look after me."
"Well, just after you tried to knock me out with your boots, I
recognized a girl that I knew. Her name is Jasmine, and if I could
have, I would have taken her along with Min. She and I...well we were
in love once, still are, even...though my mode of existence leaves me
little time for her. Well, she gave me the cold shoulder there on
Androzani, and I knew something was wrong. She tried to interest me
in some of the other girls there, and to my great surprise my own
secretary, Min, was among them. It only took a few seconds to realize
that a hell of a lot of these girls were right here from old Vinny.
And something odd in their demeanor; like they've been drugged with
some sort of psionic. Half my time I couldn't think straight with Min
nearby...eh? Pardon, my old."
Querist had returned and gave something over to Aquila. They
exchanged a few words before he sat down once again.
"Where was I? Ah, yes. Anyway, I started getting a good idea of
how the theft of the seeds was accomplished. Money alone was not
enough to corrupt, but with these psionically enhanced women...well as
you know sixteen seeds ended up on the Godolphin." He paused for
another drink, absently playing with the object in his hand.
"I decided to anticipate the Enemy's actions by stealing Min
right out from under their very noses. I left Jasmine; if I had taken
Jazz then her mother here on Vinculum might have been threatened. Min
has no living relatives. The riot which then began and the suggestion
that I was its cause were I strongly suspect contingency plans of the
Enemy; they wanted to make it that much harder on me to get away with
Min. But that was all secondary to the stolen Spectas. I knew the
Godolphin was scheduled to make port next at Andride, so the means of
smuggling was fairly obvious. After sneaking out of the convention
center I headed over to confront Tyris, whom I strongly began to
suspect of being the smuggler. I had to get him worked up, for if he
had stopped at all to think I would likely not be sitting here
telling you all of this."
"Sorry, Sinc, but I had to get under your skin, too. Tyris would
no doubt feel a bit more secure if he thought I had no allies at all
on the Godolphin. And every time I ran into Tyris, I did my best to
infuriate him without getting my head taken off in the process. Of
course, there was the minor problem of my not having a travel pass,
but that is insignificant in light of the Spectas. But consider my
position. I had no friends at all on board, and you were going to
maroon me on Andride, side by side with Tyris."
"I figured my best chance of stopping the Enemy was to do it in
such a way as to discredit their agent in their own eyes, otherwise my
life really wouldn't be worth living as one of them would eventually
get to me, if I overtly ruined their plans. I might add that winning
the pool was an unexpected secondary development. Merely a stroke of
well-deserved luck, aided by a little science and a lot of
misdirection."
Sinclair thought about it. "You mean that stuff you wrote down on
the card Tyris found--that flapdoodle about interferometers and dye-
lasers? So did you find some way to count the seeds? Hmm, I'm wrong
there, aren't I?"
"Naturally," Aquila swirled his glass and stretched. "I wrote
that for Tyris' benefit. I had to keep him so busy protecting his
Spectas and chasing after me that he never had a spare moment to
think."
Sinc was confused. "I still don't understand. Even if you'd
known the right answer in advance, how could you forsee the pool would
be based on the Spectas?"
"Eh? That was the simplest thing of all. Consider the odds!
What else could it be, with the Androzani lottery fresh in every mind
and the whole ship smelling like Spectas? If no one else had
suggested it, I was prepared to bring it up myself."
Sinclair's wrist-comm beeped. He excused himself, warning
Aquila that'd he damn well better stay put until he heard the whole
thing out. Aquila ordered another G&T, and took a few minutes
examining the object Q had brought to him. It was the microcapsule
that had been implanted in Min's leg. For a rare moment in that bar,
Aquila did not smile, instead looking much like Tyris just before one
of the Canisian's rages. He looked up as Sinc dropped into his seat.
"Call from the ship; they're refitting some of the OMS thrusters.
Will take a while." Sinc took another belt of whiskey and resumed his
listening posture. "Well, continue."
Aquila seemed to recover from his ague. "I was about to explain why I
had to keep Tyris distracted. I feared he would notice how fast the
Spectas were ripening."
Sinc still looked puzzled. Aquila sighed and went on.
"Have you ever had a more incompetent crew member than I?" asked
Aquila.
Sinclair looked indignant. "No. Never in my--"
"Quite so. I was tossed from task to task until I finally
reached the physical plant, which was exactly where I needed to be.
Crawling down maintenance tubes has certain advantages. For example,
it took just a few moments to empty a vial of two-four-five
trichlorophenoxyacetic acid into Tyris' recycled air outlet. The
stuff was bound to get into everything, including the Spectas."
"Trichloro-what? You mean you tampered with the Spectas before
the pool?"
"Certainly. I told you the pool was a later by-product. My goal
was to prevent the Spectas from reaching Andride intact, while at the
same time making it look very bad for Tyris. In my act of stepping
from job to job on your ship, I ah, appropriated a few things
necessary to carry the whole thing off. Hydroponics had a fair supply
of the acid. I did some study on Spectas some time ago when I first
started doing favors on Cygnus' behalf, and in fact consulted Jasmine
as to ways to go about containing extraneous plant growth. Well, two-
four-five trichlorophenoxyacetic acid is a hormone that bypasses the
need for cross-pollination. Through a law of biology the result will
always be seedless fruit. Just ask any horticulturist. As far as the
pool goes, it was my way out of being stranded on Andride, where Tyris
would devote all of his admittedly meager spare time toward my demise.
And that's with him ignorant of the true facts."
Sinclair had an amazed, blank look on his face. "Seedless
fruit..." he began. "Cross-pollin--well, I'll be damned! But why
bother with all this in the first place? Seems OK to me to bust up
Androzani's monopoly on Spectas. No good reason to let those
corporates take in bucket-loads of money--especially when we have to
work like hell out here just to live."
Aquila's jovial appearance slowly faded away. "This is the part
you _must_ keep quite about," he said soberly. Trust me, there are
folks out there would soon as blast you if they suspected you knew
this sort of information. The reason for the monopoly is simple, and
has nothing at all to do with money. The Canisians and Andrideans
want viable Spectas so they can alter it's genetic structure and thus
produce a viable elixir for their own species lines. The Androzani
geneticists tried this a long time ago. They found that if any two
permutations of the drug were taken -- even in trace amounts -- it
created genetic replication errors in the subject's cells. Spectrox
works on a selective basis, adapting itself to the individual's DNA.
It is triggered by very specific chains of amino acids. If two or
more versions of Spectrox appeared, then each one would create
conflicting replication instructions. All of the subjects died of
various forms of acute cancer, and to make matters worse the nature of
the cancer was different in every single one of them. And there's
still more. As time goes on genetic adjustments precipitated by the
Spectrox are passed on in hereditary fashion. If someone generations
down the line who has never taken a single dose of Spectrox takes any
variant other than that of their ancestors, they may be safe from
immediate peril. It is very likely however that serious problems
would develop concerning their health, perhaps appearing decades
later. But the final straw is that their offspring, inheriting
defective genes, would be born defective, and most likely sterile."
Aquila took a long pull at his G&T.
"There must never be anything other than the original on the
market." Aquila said. "It has been in use for so long now that every
species carries trace amounts, even the Canisians. To introduce any
other version would mean a galactic catastrophe. Thirty-five trillion
maimed or killed, and the survivors' offspring doomed."
"But the Canisians were still not convinced, telling themselves
somehow it was all lies. They stirred up issues of considerable
political importance and tried to accuse the various species that used
Spectrox of discrimination. They enlisted the aid of their kin on
Andride. All politics aside, though, you will find it is really just
a conflict in matters of proportion. They were basically being told to
be content with healthy lives, but early deaths for them all in
contrast to the miracles Spectrox offered. They have their own
interests at heart, as do we all. This conflict will last as long as
Spectrox does. In the future, Captain, ignore your transit laws if
Spectas is involved. Destroy it in your reactors. Captain Hoening
would."
Captain Sinclair appeared thoughtful for a long while. At last
he spoke.
"You wrote on the card that you suspected Tyris of injuring
Captain Hoening."
"Well, that is a point I cannot be sure about, but I know he was
working for Cygnus. I suspect that as the Godolphin was the chosen
vehicle for the operation, having an "enemy" as captain would be a
considerable risk. So they removed him."
Aquila signaled the bar for another round as he switched off the
sound baffle.
"I still have unfinished business in this affair, myself," Aquila
said. He threw the object Q gave him onto the table. "See this? It
was found in Min's leg. It is a microcapsule, intended for patients
who require long-term medication. It was used to keep her under the
Enemy's control. Q told me that this one was improperly calibrated
and was injecting an excessive amount of whatever drug into her body.
It affected her speech center I know from my own observations. It
also had some sort of psionic effect. I am sure Q and Shevan will be
able to determine the exact nature of the drug. I am concerned that
there may be permanent damage to her brain."
Aquila gulped down the fresh drink and rose. "I am tired, Sinc.
I must see to Min. Try not to think too harshly of me in the future."
Aquila went around, saying goodnight to everyone as if he had no
problems at all. He gathered up his sharkskin jacket, and with a
shipman's salute at Sinclair sauntered out the door.
Captain Sinclair looked at the door for a moment. Then, sighing,
thumbed his wrist-comm and conversed with his ship. As he sat with
his whiskey, he could not help but be amazed that buried ever so deep
down in Aquila was this residue of passion and concern that somehow
made all of his exasperating behavior tolerable.
Sinc stood up, and grabbed his jacket. He, too, had much to do
to make sure the Godolphin was ready to leave tomorrow. Flirtacia
came over, smiled, and politely inquired about the tab.
"Eh? It was Aquila who insisted that I be his guest tonight.
He's...ah, eh, er...aaah...jeez!" Sinc could not help but laugh as he
realized that Aquila had done it to him again. As he paid the tab and
made his way out the door and toward the spaceport, he grinned. He
would do something rare indeed, for Aquila's sake.
He would let it slide.
/**/