Take The Star Road (The Maxwell Saga) (16 page)

Steve merely held one finger up before the face panel of his spacesuit, as if lifting it to his lips in a shushing gesture, and indicated the display screen on the console. The Bosun frowned thunderously, but made no further comment as he came around to Steve's side of the console. Steve activated the recording, and played back for the Bosun what he'd seen.

Cardle's frown cleared at once. "Well, well, well," he murmured, then glanced at Steve. "You were right to call me. You did well to spot that." He looked up.
"Tomkins!"

A startled voice came over the radio. "Here, Bosun!"

"Report to me at the cargo console."

The Bosun's Mate hurried over from where he'd been packing his trade goods into crates. At the Bosun's gestured command, Steve played back the recording for him.

"Recognize that spacesuit?" Cardle asked.

"Yes, Bosun. Only one's got a patch on it like that. It's - "

"No names! This is an open circuit. I recognize it too. Let's go talk to him."

The two walked over to another group of spacers. The Bosun said without preamble, "Murrin, what was in that package you hid behind the electrical panel?"

"Huh?"
Steve could hear startled apprehension in the spacer's voice. "I dunno what you're talkin' about!"

"The hold's security cameras recorded you doing it. If you don't want to tell us what it was, we'll find out the hard way. Tomkins, go get it."

"Aye aye, Bosun!"

"Hey! You can't do that! It's private property!" Murrin protested.

"You said you didn't know what I was talking about. If it's not yours, you've got no say in what we do with it; but if it is yours, you just lied to me. Which is it, Murrin?"

"I - er - ah - that is... "

Tomkins disappeared behind the container. He emerged almost immediately, hefting a soft brown package experimentally in his hands.

"Can't say for sure through spacesuit gloves, but it feels like there's some sort of granular stuff in here, Bosun."

"Anything you want to tell us about that, Murrin?"

"I... I mean... oh,
fuck
you!" The spacer spun on his heel and made a break for the cargo doors, his magnetic work boots forcing him to move in a shambling, stumbling run.

"All hands,
stop him!
" The Bosun's command rang out over the common channel.

The crew tried to intercept their fleeing colleague, but his sudden move had caught everyone off-balance. Steve saw that the Fleet security personnel were clustered around the remaining open containers, and not in a position to intercept Murrin. Heart pounding, he selected a beam unit on the console, then slammed his joystick hard over to accelerate it along its rail towards the cargo door. As Murrin took a flying leap into space towards the open doors of the load compartment of the cargo shuttle, less than ten meters from the ship's hull, Steve activated a tractor beam. The spacer gave a startled yelp as his free-fall flight was dragged to a sudden halt.

"I've hooked him like a fish on a line, Bosun," Steve called over the radio as he balanced the pull of the tractor beam against an equalizing push from a pressor. "He's not going anywhere."

Murrin struggled futilely against the beams.
"Let go, damn you!"

A chorus of laughter sounded over the channel as the crew took in the sight. "Well done, Maxwell!" the Bosun called. "You caught a big one, all right. Reel him in and we'll gaff him!"

Steve landed the struggling spacer carefully inside the hold door. Three Fleet security personnel restrained his arms behind him with plastic ties around his spacesuited wrists.

"Just where the hell did you think you were going, Murrin?" the Bosun asked. "Did you think you'd be safe aboard that shuttle? If so, you were wrong - Fleet security has jurisdiction over every ship or small craft in the system."

The spacer stood mute, glaring.

"Nothing to say? OK, if that's the way you want to play it, I'm going to give this package to the First Mate. She'll authorize these security guys to open it and check the contents. If it's something illegal, you know what'll happen next."

"You can't do this to me!" Murrin's voice was hoarse, almost pleading. "I wouldn't have brought it here at all if we'd made our scheduled planetfalls! It's only 'cause o' that interferin' idjit Maxwell that the skipper heard about this charter, and came here instead! It's not my fault!"

The Fleet personnel had listened with interest. One commented, "If it's illegal here, spacer, odds are it would have been illegal at the planet where you got it, and probably where you planned to sell it, too. That makes it 'your fault' coming and going, I'd say."

"You got that right," Cardle confirmed. "Come on, Murrin, the game's up. You know that as well as I do. What is it?"

The spacer's shoulders slumped. "It's... it's habdab."

The Bosun's voice went cold. "That's an illegal drug, isn't it?"

The Fleet security man answered again, his voice also suddenly icy. "It sure is! It's a composite narcotic, methamphetamine mixed with a synthetic drug from Potosi they call 'sucre'. It was named by a doctor, who said it gives addicts the 'screaming habdabs'. It's been in circulation for a couple of years in this Sector."

"Uh-huh. We called at Potosi a couple of months ago. I guess that's where he smuggled it aboard. Where were you taking it, Murrin?"

"Arecusco," the spacer answered sullenly. "We woulda got there next month. I got a contact there."

"Figures," the Fleet man agreed. "There's an asteroid mining startup in the Arecusco system. Habdab's real popular with miners - gives 'em a high that lets 'em keep working for a couple of days without a break. Kills 'em in the end, of course, because they burn out; but they die rich, I guess. We'll be taking you planetside to face trial, spacer. We don't like drug traffickers here."

"But I wasn't going to sell it - not here, anyway! I just wanted to get it out of sight in case you opened the package! I wouldn't even have brought it here if we hadn't changed our plans! Besides, under Commonwealth law, drug use ain't no crime!"

"Drug
use
may not be, but peddling the hard stuff sure is! Besides, there's nothing stopping individual Commonwealth planets from passing stricter domestic laws, and Vesta's done that. Recreational drugs aren't illegal, but habdab's anything but recreational. You may be able to plea-bargain your way out of a trafficking charge because you didn't intend to bring it here, but possession of this much is probably enough to get you a three-to-five stretch." The Fleet man turned to the Bosun. "We'll take him to the Cargo Terminal for processing. He'll be sent to the planet under arrest. Your ship's in the clear, of course, because we saw you discover the drugs and take steps at once to secure them and the perpetrator. I'll mention that in my report."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure. I'll need that package as evidence - I'll give you a receipt, of course - plus statements from you and anyone else involved. What made you suspect him?"

"The console operator saw him hide it through our security cameras, and called me over."

"Good for him. We'll need his statement too, and a copy of that vid."

They made their way towards the airlock. As they passed the console, behind which Steve still sat, Murrin slammed to a halt. His face was malevolent. "This is all your fault, Maxwell, you stinkin' stooge! If you'd kept your mouth shut about them charters we wouldn't be here at all, and if you hadn't blabbed to the Bosun, they'd never have found my stash! I'll make you pay for this, boy, you just see if I don't! Someday, somehow, you're gonna get what's comin' to you, or my name ain't Albert Murrin!"

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but the Bosun held up his hand in warning. One of the Fleet security personnel said mockingly, "Congratulations, spacer. You just talked yourself into two additional charges - criminal threatening, and attempted witness intimidation. That should be worth another couple of years on top of your sentence for the drug charges."

Murrin's shoulders slumped again. "Aw,
shaddup!
"

"I think you should take your own advice, Murrin," the Bosun said, shaking his head. "Right now, every time you open your mouth your jaw's making like an excavator, digging a deeper hole for yourself!"

###

When they'd finished packing their trade goods, the crew headed for their quarters to clean up and pack their personal gear. They'd take it with them to the Cargo Terminal, where the Fleet had arranged temporary billets while
Cabot
's hospital equipment was installed. Most of them planned to head down to the planet for a week's well-earned rest and recreation.

Steve, Tomkins and the Bosun reported to the First Mate's office, where Fleet security personnel recorded their statements in her presence. "I doubt you'll have to give evidence in court," the detachment NCO reassured them. "What with the drugs, the vid recording and your statements, this is as close to an open-and-shut case as I've ever seen. Murrin's lawyer will surely advise him to plead guilty in exchange for a lighter sentence. If he isn't a complete fool, he'll listen."

"I'm glad to hear it," Scarlatti replied. "I'd not like the ship to be delayed here after our charter's over, or have to land key crew members while we're shuttling to and from Radetski. What sentence d'you think Murrin will get?"

"I'd say he's looking at three-to-five on a possession charge, Ma'am, plus a year apiece on the criminal threatening and witness intimidation counts. If the judge lets them run concurrently, he'll do three years; but given his hostile attitude, which we'll have to mention in our report, the judge may decide to make them consecutive. Knowing our judges, I think that's likely. If so, Murrin will serve a minimum of four and a half years - up to seven if he doesn't behave himself. He says he doesn't have any previous felony convictions, so he's unlikely to be exiled to a prison planet, but he'd better keep his nose clean after this. If he does anything naughty again, that's where he'll spend the rest of his life."

"My heart bleeds for him." Despite her words, the First Mate's dry voice sounded remarkably unsympathetic, Steve thought, covering his mouth to hide a smile. "May I assume the ship's in the clear?"

"Of course, Ma'am. As soon as Spacer Maxwell saw something wrong, he notified your Bosun, who acted immediately to resolve the situation. If he'd waited to report it, things might have been more difficult, but because your crew stopped the crime as soon as it was detected - and because we witnessed them doing that - you're officially OK. I've already notified Orbital Control about that, Ma'am."

"Thank you. The skipper will be relieved to hear it." She looked at Steve. "We owe you our thanks for this, Maxwell, on top of the news of the charter you brought us. You may still be a very junior Spacer, but you're shaping up to be a valuable member of our crew."

Steve flushed. "Er... thank you, Ma'am."

"If you'll excuse us, please, Ma'am?" the NCO interrupted politely. "We've got to deliver Murrin for processing."

"Of course. Thank you for your help."

"Our pleasure, Ma'am." The Fleet spacers left the office, heading for the docking bay.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Scarlatti turned back to Steve. "We can do better than just thanking you, Maxwell. You remember what I said about our incentive plan?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"The Fleet's charter terms are generous - all expenses paid plus 25,000 credits per day, with at least ninety days guaranteed. That means your profit share will be at least 56,250 credits; perhaps a little more, if the charter runs over ninety days."

Steve's jaw dropped in astonishment as Tomkins clapped him on the back. "Nicely done!" the Bosun's Mate said cheerfully. "That's more than two years' net salary as a Spacer Third Class, and more than you'd likely have made in your first few years of private trading while you learned the ropes and built up your cash reserves."

"Yes," the Bosun agreed. "You'll have to pay Commonwealth tax on it, of course, but that's only ten per cent. Have a good time with some of it, but save the rest until you decide where you want to focus your trading. It'll be very useful capital to lay in your initial stock."

"I'll do that, Bosun. Thank you, Ma'am. I guess it'll be paid at the end of the charter?"

"No, we'll transfer it to you as we receive payments from the Fleet. We've just been paid for the first thirty days of the charter, so we'll deposit your share to your League account, just as we do your monthly salary. We'll be sure to designate it as non-salary income, of course, so that the League doesn't deduct its usual percentage." She smiled. "As the Bosun says, you can use some of it to have fun planetside while the ship's fitted out in the Fleet dockyard."

"I reckon I owe both of you a first-rate meal, at the very least," Steve remarked, looking first at the Bosun, then Tomkins. "I'd not be here at all without your help."

"I never say 'no' to free food and drink, 'specially if they're good," Tomkins replied with a grin.

"Neither do I," the Bosun assured him, also smiling. "We'll take you up on that as soon as we get planetside and taken care of some other business. You still planning to join the Fleet when your two years aboard
Cabot
are up?"