by Jon Gerrard
Chapter Ten
The sale of our cargo on Toula went even better than I had hoped. We were able to line up buyers for everything Heller had wanted us to get for him along with most of our own stock as well. We were even able to find the supplies we needed, all except for the radioactives for the main drive. The prices here were outrageous. After talking to Ian I decided to wait until we got to Bricese where prices were more reasonable. Besides, some of the more exotic items that we could only get at a place like Toula would easily cover the cost of fuel at another port and still leave us with a healthy profit.
Captain Saha had not been happy when he learned what our destination was, but having no say in the matter there was little he could do about it except complain. Which he did. Several times. Since we’d made port however most of his concerns seemed to have been put to rest. It was almost as if he had expected us to be fired on by some blood thirsty pirate as soon as we landed. But like any port, all weapon systems were required to be deactivated and locked down before a ship entered orbit. This was confirmed by the inspection team which boarded us as soon as we touched down–again just like any other port. The only difference was that Toula’s inspection team didn’t care about passports, cargo manifests or shipping documents. As long as we conducted our business openly on the comm-net the council would get its percentage and there wouldn’t be any trouble.
Two and a half hours later, Captain Saha and I were standing in the shade of the Prometheus as the loading crew used power-lifers to move shipping containers on and off the ship. I had asked him and his crew to change into our ship’s uniform while we were here so they wouldn’t draw attention. If it were known that we had a Fleet crew aboard our ship there would be unnecessary tension between us and the locals. I just wanted to complete our business and be on our way without any hassles.
Behind us, Lucky was standing in the middle of a flurry of activity at the foot of the boarding ramp directing the cargo handlers. With flatpad in hand he was sorting containers from the ship into discrete stacks for the other crews who were coming to collect them while also directing incoming cargo to the appropriate holds. Similar activity was taking place in many of the nearby berths as well and I spent a moment taking in the scene around us.
The spaceport at Toula was little more than a giant neocrete landing field. On the edge of the field nearest the city, the squat control tower which oversaw all takeoffs and landings stood amid a small cluster of support buildings. The remainder of the field was taken up by row after row of landing berths. Individual berths were simply open areas that were fenced off from each other to help control egress into each ship. At the gate to each berth was a comm-net board which allowed crews to post the inventory they had for sale and to search for any cargo they might be interested in. People and loaders were everywhere, moving along the wide aisles between the berths as they went about their business. It was a noisy, active place, full of energy. Toula always reminded me of a gigantic flea market.
Most of the ships around us were busy with cargos of their own, although a few were buttoned up and quiet. As I watched the activity around us I couldn’t help noticing how disorganized some of the other ships seemed compared to the way Lucky ran things. We were fortunate to have him. Not only was he extremely organized, but he had a nose for locating hard to find items and for negotiating the best prices. We wouldn’t have been nearly as profitable as we were if we didn’t have him as our supply officer.
“I must say, Captain,” Saha commented, drawing me out of my thoughts, “I’m surprised at how orderly things are here. I was expecting something quite different.”
“Oh? In what way?”
“Well, Toula is a well known pirate stronghold after all. I suppose I pictured it being a bit less ... organized. You know, rougher around the edges.”
“Actually, Toula isn’t a ‘pirate stronghold’ at all,” I said. “It’s an open port and anyone can trade here. I’m sure some pirates conduct business here, but that’s only because no one checks to see what anyone is selling. As long as you don’t cause trouble and pay all your port fees, nobody really cares what you do. Of course it would be bad for business if people were stealing from each other and fighting all the time. One thing they do have here is a strong police force. Penalties are steep and crewmen are held accountable for whatever they do in town. But there’s no jail. If you can’t pay whatever penalties are assessed against you, and your captain won’t cover it, you have to stay and work it off.”
“But that’s indentured servitude,” Saha objected. “That’s barbaric!”
I shrugged. “If you don’t want to end up working your ass off here for the next few years you’ll behave yourself. It might seem harsh but their system works. This is one of the most peaceful ports you’ll find anywhere.”
The Fleet captain considered this for a few moments. “How exactly is all of this managed? Who’s in charge?”
“Well, there’s no government in the traditional sense. This is the only city on the entire planet. Everything’s run by a sort of a business coalition, known as the council. The council is made up of the owners of the most prominent local businesses: restaurants, casinos, brothels, hotels, banks, etcetera—everyone who has a vested interest in keeping the port operating. They collect a small percentage of all the trade at the port to cover their administrative costs. Since they’re not trying to turn a big profit with the spaceport they’re able to keep costs down. It’s actually pretty clever on their part because after most ships finish their business their crews take shore leave in town. That’s where they make their real money. There’s virtually every kind of diversion you can imagine here. In fact, quite a number of ships put in here for the recreation alone. In many ways, Toula is basically just a resort town.”
“It’s not exactly like any resort town I ever heard of. Prostitution, gambling ... Wait ... Did you say they have a bank … here?”
“Absolutely. In fact several major banks have branches here. We have an account with Creighton & Ward ourselves.” Creighton & Ward was arguably the largest financial services corporation in existence. With branches in every inhabited system and a well deserved reputation for discretion, they were ideal for us. “There’s also a local bank, the Toula Exchange, but only ships without an account in another bank use them. They charge a high fee because their customers are transient, but you can’t do anything on Toula without an account somewhere. The universe runs on financing, Captain, and a strong bank is how you protect your assets.”
Saha shook his head. “It’s hard to believe that all of this is managed by pirates.”
“You’ve got to stop thinking of this as some kind of pirate base.” Was he trying to get on my nerves? “Sure, there could be a number of pirate ships here right now, but mostly it’s a lot of independents like us. Some of the larger trade combines also have regular runs here, although they don’t advertise it.” I pointed out a ship berthed nearby with a familiar salmon and blue emblem prominently displayed on its hull. “There’s a ship from the Galapagos combine. They run food supplies here, mostly delicacies for the high end restaurants.”
“I thought it was illegal for Gilead companies to do business on Toula,” Saha said, staring at the Galapagos ship.
“It’s illegal for ships registered in Gilead to conduct business here. That’s the main reason why most of the transport lines from your kingdom register their fleets in another nation--to get around Gilead’s strict regulations. It has the most restrictive codes of any government. Their safety regulations alone make it economically unfeasible for most commercial lines to port out of Gilead. It would cost them a fortune to bring their ships into compliance.”
“Maybe, but those are safety regulations you’re talking about.”
I laughed. “Captain, do you seriously think crews would ship out on a vessel that was truly unsafe? Nothing personal, Captain, but your kingdom has a history of caterin
g to the whining majority. Your government goes out of its way to protect its citizens from everything under the sun, including themselves. If one ship has a problem, which unfortunately cost lives, instead of simply holding that ship or that company accountable for their own negligence, there’s an immediate push for new legislation to make sure that such an accident can never happen again. And the safeguards they want to put in place are usually ridiculous examples of overkill. So in the end, all Gilead ended up doing was driving transport companies out of their systems.
“Take cruise lines, for instance. Did you know that not one single cruise line is registered in Gilead? Look it up sometime. Every one of them is ported out of somewhere else where the regulations are more relaxed, even when the parent corporation itself is based in Gilead. Yet when was the last time you heard of a major disaster aboard a cruise ship?”
“You make some interesting points, Captain,” Saha admitted, “but I’m not sold. The situation here seems too delicately balanced.”
“No more so than anywhere else. Economics is a game of constant adjustments between supply and demand. When you then add unnecessary government regulations on top of that, things can get pretty complicated. All of that’s been done away with here. In fact, Toula is one of the most profitable places anywhere to do business, assuming you can find someone interested in your cargo. Prices are set between buyer and seller. If you don’t like their price you don’t do business with that person. The port only collects a flat percentage of your gross sales and that’s it. There are no other taxes, no import duties, no merchant fees--none of that.”
“And you can trade anything here?”
“Sure. Our ship doesn’t transport weapons or drugs, but that’s our choice.”
Lucky came over to me just then. The puckered smile he was wearing told me that he had good news to report.
“Excuse me, Captain, but I think I managed to find that item you wanted me to keep an eye out for.”
I excused myself from Captain Saha and took Lucky aside. I had been looking for a very particular device for more than a year now and was anxious to get my hands on one.
“Their captain wants too much for it, if you ask me,” Lucky said in a low voice. “But he won’t budge on his price.”
I looked at Lucky’s pad. The price really was high.
“Have we ever done business with this captain before?” I asked. His name didn’t look familiar to me, but I didn’t handle every transaction personally either.
“We’ve dealt with him a few times in the past, small stuff mostly.”
“Would you say he’s honest?”
Lucky shrugged. “Honest enough, but a little greedy. His prices generally run higher than I think they should, but that’s usually because he’s selling unique stock. No competition.”
“I’ll trust your nose on this,” I said. “Take Mark with you and have him look the unit over. If it’s in good shape, give him what he’s asking for it.”
“Should I pay it out of ship’s funds? Technically, it is medical equipment.”
“No. We really don’t have a need for something like this. I’m the one who wants it so I’ll pay for it out of my account.”
“That’s an awful lot of money,” Lucky said. “You know, Cordass, nobody would object to this coming out of ship’s funds. We’re pretty fat right now and it will have to be set up in the infirmary after all.”
“It’s okay. I’m the one who wants it so I’ll pay for it.”
Lucky shook his head. “Sometimes I think you’re too damned honest.”
I started to turn away when I noticed Lucky suddenly frown at his pad.
“Problem?”
“Not really,” he said, swiping his finger across the screen to scroll through the list he had displayed. “Just a little discrepancy with inventory. The tally says we have more containers aboard than we should. Somebody probably just miscounted. If anyone were trying to rip us off they’d short us a container, not give us an extra one. I’ll sort it out later.”
He sketched a two fingered salute in my direction and sauntered off to finish supervising the last of the loading. The activity around the ship was beginning to quiet down. Most of the cargo we were taking aboard had already been loaded and the last stacks of outgoing containers had just been trucked away. I reached for the phone earpiece hooked to my belt and called the bridge. Now that our business was done I told Chris to pass the word along that anyone who wanted to could take twenty-four hours liberty. We still needed to top off the reaction fuel and air tanks, and Ian wanted to perform some routine maintenance now that the engines were powered down. We had time for a day of R&R.
Chris’s voice could be heard on the ship wide PA through the open airlock as I rejoined Captain Saha.
“Excuse me, Captain Pell, but I thought I just heard your executive officer announce shore leave for your crew. I was under the impression that we would be leaving as soon as your business was complete.”
“I know you’re anxious to be on your way, Captain, but our engineer needs to do some maintenance that he can’t do while the engines are powered up. We’ll be ready to lift in another day.” I understood that he wanted to get his crew back and make his report as soon as possible but his constant questions were beginning to annoy me. “Why don’t you and your people take liberty while we’re here. After what they’ve been through they probably need to unwind.” And it will keep you out of my hair for a while.
“That’s very kind of you, Captain, but I think it’s best if my crew and I remain aboard.”
“Suit yourself, but Toula is a unique experience.”
Saha almost smiled. “No doubt, but I don’t think my superiors would approve.”
We stood talking quietly for several minutes while the loading crew finished its work. Soon groups of crewmen started wandering off the ship and heading toward town. Each group was laughing and talking animatedly among themselves. We had just completed a long run and everyone was looking forward to some time off. Bobby Dare and Patty Ruttle were in one of the first groups off the ship. They were with a group of about a dozen or so, each of whom was carrying a snow board. The mountains just north of the city boasted some of the best skiing in this sector. I didn’t see Jeremy with them but with a ship full of “aunts” and “uncles” there was always someone willing to watch him.
“Captain!” Eddie Porter was waving at me as he came down the ramp. “A bunch of us are going to the Gypsy! Why don’t you come along? I still want a chance to even the score from the last time we played pocket-ball.”
“Sorry, Ed, not this time. I’ve got some things I need to finish up here before we lift.”
“Aw, come on, Captain! You work too hard,” Eddie said, stopping at the foot of the ramp. “Everybody needs to kick back from time to time. I’ll tell you what, first round’s on me. That’s not an offer I make every day.” He put on his best used hovercar salesman smile.
I laughed. Eddie was the ship’s clown. “Maybe later, Eddie. Remember, we’re lifting tomorrow at 1730 local. Don’t make me send someone to bring you back like last time.”
Eddie held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Aw, Captain, I swore off that stuff. Honest.”
“Come on, Eddie!” one of his friends called from the cab idling just outside our bay.
With a wave he turned and jogged to the waiting taxi.
“Who’s the Gypsy?” Captain Saha asked as their car pulled away.
“The Dancing Gypsy. It’s a bar. Eddie likes to get, well, very relaxed when he’s off duty. The last time we were here he took something called Green Dreamer. He was so zonked out of his skull my security officer had to send a couple of her people to find him and carry him back to the ship.”
“You allow your crew to use drugs?” Saha asked. I could hear the disapproval in his voice.
“He was off duty,” I answered, feeling myself becoming defensive.
“What, illegal?” I snapped. I reigned in my temper. “Look, Captain, my crew has to report to duty on time and sober. What they do off duty is their own business. The way I see it, anyone over twenty-one is responsible for himself. It’s not my job to oversee the morals of my crew. That’s between them and their conscience.”
“But, Captain Pell, you have to admit that drugs are dangerous.”
“Of course they are. But so is a steak knife, if it’s misused. Look, legislative history is still a required course at the academy, right? Remember when tobacco was legal back on Old Earth? Tobacco, one of the most addictive substances known to man, was a multi billion credit industry for centuries. Even after medical science had conclusively linked it to cancer and a list of other diseases, tobacco remained legal because people wanted to smoke. In fact, the United States owed its early economic prosperity in large part to the tobacco trade.”
“That’s true, but our society has advanced beyond theirs. That’s why tobacco and other dangerous substances are banned today.”
“Nonsense! We haven’t advanced, we’ve gone backward. Let’s take Gilead as an example. Your law enforcement agencies waste more than seventy percent of their resources trying to stop people from doing things they want to do. That includes all ‘vice crimes’, gambling and prostitution as well as drugs. Yet you’re not making a dent in any of those. The drug industry alone generates more revenue annually than the top fifty most profitable international corporations combined. If you taxed and regulated them instead of trying to stamp them out you could generate enough revenue to not only cut your citizens’ tax burden in half but you would also free up your law enforcement agencies to focus on doing their main job of protecting the public.”
“I have to say I’m surprised by your attitude, Captain Pell, especially since you tell me that you won’t trade drugs or weapons.”
“I don’t like the people you have do business with if you move drugs. Since drugs are illegal in just about every system, the people who handle them are by definition criminals. These are people who’ve decided for themselves to step over society’s boundary line. Once they’ve made that decision they have only their own conscience to dictate how far they’re willing to go–and a man without boundaries is dangerous. It’s like when the United States tried prohibition in the early twentieth century. People drank anyway, only now the alcohol was supplied by criminals. And thanks to prohibition, the first large scale criminal organizations were able to take root and grow. Centuries later organized crime is still with us.
“As far as weapons are concerned, aside from dealing with the same sort of unsavory characters, I won’t move them because they’re indiscriminate. Weapon smugglers don’t care who their weapons go to, but I do. I won’t put a gun in the hands of someone who could turn it on an innocent citizen somewhere.”
“Ah, but aren’t drugs indiscriminate, too? You can’t control who takes them. What about all of the young people who are tricked into trying street drugs every year and end up getting addicted? Isn’t that worth fighting against?”
“To begin with, kids aren’t ‘tricked’ into taking drugs by some shadowy figure in a dark alley. It’s usually a friend who gives it to them the first time. But more importantly, aren’t kids supposed to have parents? Society lets parents slide on too many things these days. If you have a child, you should know where your child is, who he’s with and what he’s doing. ‘I didn’t know’ shouldn’t be an excuse.”
“You sound like one of those Libertarians who think nothing should be illegal,” Saha said. “Personally, I could never see putting something as dangerous as drugs within easy reach of children.”
“As a matter of fact, Captain, I do not think children should be allowed to use drugs. I don’t think adults should use drugs either. But I also don’t think that making them illegal is the answer. All that did was to drive them underground where criminals now control them at vastly inflated prices. Besides, it’s been proven that it’s much easier for kids to get drugs than it is for them to get alcohol because they’re illegal. Since alcohol is licensed and regulated, merchants don’t sell to minors because they’ll lose their liquor license. But drug dealers don’t have any such worries. They’re driven by one thing–the bottom line.”
“That’s true,” Saha said, seizing an opening. “Drugs generate huge profits. You pointed that out yourself. That in itself is a drain on the resources of communities. Drugs are like a disease infecting our cities, turning decent neighborhoods into slums.”
“Oh come on, Captain. You can’t honestly believe that kids and the poor provide the hundreds of billions of Solars the drug trade annually generates! That money comes from middle and upper class people looking to party on the weekends.”
Saha folded his arms and took a defiant stance. He was as stubborn as I was. The ironic thing was that essentially I agreed with him. No matter how you looked at it drugs were bad news. We just disagreed on the best way to address the problem.
“Alright, Captain,” Saha said once he had marshaled this thoughts, “let’s say for the sake of argument that in an ideal society we can keep drugs away from children. That still leaves us with the fact that drugs are addictive. If they were turned loose in society we’d have an epidemic. Addiction rates would skyrocket overnight. Are you saying that you want us to become a society of junkies?”
His words had touched a sensitive spot. All the anger that had been building up in my chest melted away. I turned to look across the nearby skyline, noticing how small it seemed. Toula wasn’t quite large enough to be considered a major city, although it did cover almost a dozen square kilometers. It was more like a town, a fantasy town, all glitz and glitter, flashing lights and bright colors. It was an adult playground that never slept. A place where you could get anything you wanted, providing you could pay for it. But some things you paid for with more than money.
“Over the years that we’ve been together as a crew,” I began, “our ship’s had a number of crew members who’ve gotten themselves in trouble with drugs.”
“You mean addicted,” Saha said.
“Yes. Addicted. A couple of them were even hooked after a single experience. Their condition became obvious soon enough, even though most of them tried to hide it. The signs weren’t hard to read. Fortunately, we have an excellent doctor. With Doc’s help most of them were able to kick their habits.”
“Just like that?”
“No, it took time and there were relapses, of course. But we have a very close knit crew and support is always there for anyone who needs it. In time everyone who discovered that they had a weakness for drugs was finally able to find the strength to stay away from them. Almost everyone.”
Everyone except for Billy Smalls. Even now, thinking about him was like probing an old wound which had never completely healed.
“Billy just couldn’t stop using. He was probably detoxed more than a dozen times and each time he went right back to it again. He couldn’t help himself. He didn’t want to stop. During off hours he was actually quite personable and everyone genuinely liked him. But then he started showing up for his duty shift high. And that I couldn’t let go. At first he would simply draw a reprimand and lose his pay for that shift. Instead of tapering off it got worse. Eventually things got so bad that he had to be taken off the duty rotation completely. We tried everything, but Billy just wouldn’t leave them alone. I was finally forced into one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever had to make as captain. I gave him a choice. Either he stayed off the drugs or I’d have to put him ashore. He chose to leave the ship.”
I paused to watch the flashing lights of the nearby town. Those lights and glitter could mesmerize, promising a fantasy world of never ending excitement. But it was all just smoke and mirrors, mere illusion. Toula was a place of appearance but no substa
nce.
“What happened to him?” Saha asked.
“He’s here. Somewhere,” I said, gesturing toward the skyline.
“Here? You mean he’s just ... out there on the streets somewhere?”
“You don’t understand Toula. You can’t live on the streets. They won’t allow it. That’s not the ... the image they want to portray. Let’s say you enjoy yourself a little too much and wind up passed out in a gutter somewhere. All the police will do is take you back to wherever you’re staying, and charge you a stiff fee for their services. But anyone without a hotel room or ship to go back to is escorted right out of town. There’s supposed to be a few scattered pockets of homeless camping out beyond the town limits somewhere. Drug addicts and the mentally unstable. But the natural environment of the planet is harsh. Most don’t last very long.”
“You mean to tell me that you exiled one of your own crew here knowing that–”
“I didn’t. Billy asked to be put ashore here. And I agreed with him. The last we heard he had a job as a kind of a handyman for one of the smaller hotels. He always was good with his hands. He makes enough to support his habit and the hotel lets him have a cot in a back room.”
Even though I was gazing off into the distance I could feel Captain Saha’s eyes boring into the back of my head.
“And this is the kind of life you want for your crewman?” he said, accusingly.
His words no longer upset me. I understood Captain Saha. He was a good man who had strong moral convictions. I admired that. Like so many others however he believed that his own personal moral standards should apply to everyone else as well.
“Do you have any children, Captain?” I asked.
“I’m not married. What has that got to do—”
“There’s an expression people use that sums up the problem with modern society–‘raising children’. We’re not actually raising children. We’re supposed to be raising adults. The idea is that we’re supposed to be training our children to be responsible and independent so that they can function in adult society. Instead, our society is bending over backwards to try and sanitize the world so that nothing bad can ever happen. But we’re just fooling ourselves.
“The universe is a vast and wondrous place. Life can be, and should be, a great adventure. But the universe isn’t safe, and no amount of legislation is going to make it safe. We need to grow up and stop trying to make it into something it’s not.”
I turned and met the fleet captain’s eyes. “No, this isn’t the kind of life I want for Billy, or anyone else for that matter. Quite honestly, I worry about him. I think about him every time we come here. I know he’s going to die young and I also know there’s not a damned thing I can do about it. But he is taking responsibility for his life, such as it is. He knew what he was doing when he asked to come here. On any other world he’d be a homeless junkie living in a box, getting his meals from a soup kitchen and begging for change for his next fix or maybe stealing to support his habit. Here he has access to all the cheap drugs he wants, but in an environment where he has to be responsible for himself. Toula has no welfare program or homeless shelters. No government agency is going to manage your life for you and no soup kitchen is going to feed you if you aren’t willing to work for the money to feed yourself. Here everyone has to have something to offer, some skill or service, if they’re going to survive. Billy made his decision a long time ago, and out of friendship, out of love for him, I have to respect that decision.”
For several long moments the Fleet captain was at a loss for words.
“Well, it’s been an ... interesting discussion, Captain Pell. You’ve given me quite a lot to think about.”
I turned away and started toward the boarding ramp. I didn’t really give a damn what he thought. I’d had enough conversation.
“I still think you and your crew should take at least a few hours liberty,” I called over my shoulder. “We’re going to be shut up aboard ship for another week after we lift tomorrow.”
“Thank you, but we’ll be fine. By the way, you’re quite certain that your ship will be leaving on schedule tomorrow afternoon. I really do need to get back as soon as possible.”
I paused with one foot on the ramp and turned back. The man had a one track mind.
“Believe it or not, Captain, I am taking your situation very seriously. I have great respect for the Fleet and the work you do. But I also have my own ship to think about. In fact, before we rescued you and your men I had promised my crew two weeks liberty on our next stop. They’ve earned it. Yet because of your situation they’re making due with only twenty-four hours. And I haven’t had one complaint ... from them. I promise we will get you and your men on your way as soon as reasonably possible.”
He opened his mouth to speak but I turned on my heel I made my way up into the ship.
