"Why did they pick you?"
"I don't know. Two fighters approached me, one of them stuck his finger at me and they took me away. They didn't speak English. I thought that they were going to shoot me."
"Did they beat you?"
"Frankly, I got a good kick in the butt and, when we were passing the peasants, somebody threw a rotten tomato at me."
"What did they fighters do?"
"They screamed something at the crowd and they cleaned the tomato off me."
"What happened next?"
"They took me to a large room, there were already about thirty people there. A lot of journalists were there and nobody obstructed from taking pictures. Kissur and his brother sat at a table together with the leaders of the party of people's freedom. Kissur told the journalists to save their film — he was going to take them on a trip through the spaceport and they would get good shots there."
"What happened next?"
"Kissur said that he demanded that everything photographed was shown on Galactic channels. He said that the films should be sent to a place that had broadcasting equipment and that the broadcast should be shown on all channels. He said that they had agents on different planets and that if the broadcast started later than 9am of the next day, he would shoot five hostages for every minute of delay. Somebody asked what would happen to the hostages if his demands were complied with. Kissur said that he was not enough of a scoundrel to make eight thousand Earthmen hostages in his future fight with Gera. Then, they asked him why he had seized the spaceport and he said that it was the only way to expose all its secret depositaries. He said that it was impossible to pick a moment when no passengers were present in the spaceport and that he didn't know any way to prevent panic spreading among civilians but to make them drop on their bellies and to shoot a dozen or two as an example. They asked him what he was going to do with the passengers and he said that after the broadcast was shown, he would free the hostages."
"What about the personnel?"
"He said that he had to detain the employees that were necessary for the proper operation of the spaceport."
"Have you witnessed any abuse of the passengers?"
"Yes. I saw a terrorist hitting a man with his rifle's butt only because the man rose without obtaining permission. Also a guy, sitting on the floor, stretched his legs; a terrorist thought that the guy was trying to trip him and the fighter hit him with his knee in the temple."
"What else has Kissur said?"
"He said that he had arrived at the spaceport to defend his friend Bemish. Then, he obtained reliable information that the military had been transporting toxic gas in a ship and that they were going to use it against the protesters. He had tried to persuade Bemish's deputy, an Intelligence Service employee Giles, not to utilize the gas. The latter said, "Shut up, Weian monkey." Kissur shot Giles."
"Have you seen the gas?"
"Yes. In a ship that was one of the latest to arrive, neurotoxin containers made up half the cargo. The containers were marked as a military cargo accordingly to the standard rules of the Federation Space Force. We were the first ones to enter the ship and the journalists photographed everything."
"Are you aware of the fact that the Federation defense department claims that it does not own these containers?"
"Yes, your honor."
"In your opinion, could Kissur load the containers before showing them to you?"
"That would be impossible. When we stood at the loading dock, the after landing warning lights were still lit on the board and they were just dragging the crew outside."
"What happened next?"
"They took us down a lot of storage areas. Quite often, the goods that were stored there had nothing to do with custom department's documentation describing them. More precisely, it was practically never the case. Cars were called medical equipment, computers were called canned food. I saw boxes of Lamass lace that were exported as glass."
"Were you offered any explanation?"
"Yes. The goods that were not duty free were documented as goods that were. Most export-import companies had a life expectation of less than two months. I don't know how corruption in customs looks on other planets but I was shocked by what I saw there. They didn't steal by containers, they stole by whole cargo loads."
"What happened next?"
"Finally, they took us to an area of space field that was almost never used for the civil flights. The chutes there looked slightly different from the civil ones. They showed us papers demonstrating that these chutes were intended for military ships. There were certain differences in construction between military and civil chutes, for instance ceramics deposition on the support columns allowed a ship to have a launching acceleration of five to six times higher than a civilian spaceship would require. They also…"
"We are not discussing technical parameters of military chutes at this hearing. Did you only see chutes?"
"No. There were several storage areas there — 17A, 17B and 17C — that had walls and locks designed in a different way. In particular, the storages had radiation shielding. Mr. Bemish was brought in and he opened the storage."
"How was Bemish treated?"
"They dragged him on a leash."
"How did he look?"
"He looked horrible. His suit was torn, there was blood on his shirt and he had a huge wale under his right eye. On the other hand, Kissur had the same size wale under his left eye and, as far as I know, Bemish got it all while fighting. Nobody beat him when his hands were tied."
"What was in the storage?"
"Some imported apparel was stored in 17A though, accordingly to the documentation, it was supposed to be empty. 17B was also supposed to be empty accordingly to the documentation. However, containers with medical markings were stored there. Right in front of us, they extracted constructions out of the containers that were later identified as partially functional Cassiopeia missiles."
"Why was Bemish needed there?"
"The storage areas were computer controlled and the computer had eye retina recognition lock system. There were only two retina images loaded into the computer memory, the spaceport director's and his deputy's — Terence Bemish and Richard Giles."
"Therefore, the missiles could be stored there only if the above named persons were involved. Is it correct?"
"Yes, your honor."
Bemish lay on a leather sofa in his own office and his hands were tied tightly behind his back. If he moved his eyes to the side strenuously enough, he could see out of an office's window a small section of the landing field and an arching asphalt ramp. Peasants wandered around in the landing field. A beetle shaped passenger bus crawled down the ramp.
The door squeaked and Kissur entered the office. Bemish turned pointedly to the wall; the pain in his twisted hand made him hiss sharply.
"Hello to a TV star," Kissur said, "They will show you tomorrow on all the channels — together with 17B storage area."
Bemish turned and hissed again.
"How did those damned missiles get here?" Bemish asked.
"My dear," Kissur said, "that's a question for you."
"Don't clown around! I sent them there on Shavash's request…"
"And Shavash thought that he was importing cute little cars," Kissur finished for him.
"You know, Shavash can goof up sometimes too… I don't have my own dummy fronts so I had to use one of vice minister's."
"What are you striving for, Kissur?" Bemish asked. "Have you forgotten how you shouted with joy when they told you that they would build a military base here? And I was almost killed when I refused to do it!"
Kissur was smiling and nursing an assault rifle on his knees.