ROBERT LYNN ASPRJN them that if they lean on someone off a Tambu ship, they're going to get it shoved back down their throats." Tambu frowned at the growls of assent that responded to Blackjack's suggestion. " Whitey?" he said, recognizing the scowl on her face. "We can't do that, Blackjack," she argued. "Last time I checked, we were still a law enforcement organization. Now, the one rule that's always held for law enforcement groups is that to gain and keep public support, you can't use undue force. That means if someone jostles you on the street, you can't break his arm. If we start going around exacting vengeance with interest for every insult or injury, we'll never get any public support."
"Public support?" Blackjack roared. "The last public support my ship got put three of my crew in the hospital!"
"How do you know your roughnecks didn't start it?" Whitey challenged.
"Three men don't start a fight with a whole bar," Blackjack shot back.
"They might," Whitey corrected. "Or they might try to hassle a hooker with a lot of friends." "Are you saying my men-"
"That's enough!" Tambu barked. "It was decided that we weren't going to discuss specific incidents, nor am I going to allow this discussion to degenerate into childish name-calling."
Though they couldn't see him, the anger in his voice was sufficient to subdue the two combatants.
"Now then, Blackjack, you've proposed a program of retribution. Whitey has raised two questions. First, how much force are you suggesting we employ; and second, what level of investigation do you plan to carry out before launching your retribution? I am also curious as to your answers to those questions. Would you care to comment?" "I haven't thought it through that far," Blackjack admitted. "I was just suggesting it as a possible solution for discussion."
"I see," Tambu commented. "Very well, does anyone else have anything they'd like to add to this proposal?"
Cowboy, the lanky captain of the Whiplash, rose slowly to his feet.
"Ah'd like to add a thing er two to what Whitey said. My paw, he used to be a policeman, and I learned a lot listenin' to him talk over dinner."
"Is that how you managed to dodge the law for so long?" someone quipped from the back of the room.
Cowboy shrugged and smiled, drawing a round of laughter from the assemblage.
"Anyway," he continued, "Paw used to say anytime there was a fight, both sides would insist the other side started it. Usually they weren't even tryin' to cover up or anythin'; they really believed it was the other folks doin". More often 'n not, my paw never could sort out whose fault it really was."
He paused to look around the room.
"Now Ah'm not sayin' it's always our fault when there's a fight, but Ah don't think we kin always say it's the Groundhogs' fault neither. What's more, Ah don't think that even if we tried to investigate each problem that anyone'd believe we was bein' fair and impartial. Heck, Ah don't think we'd believe it ourselves."
"But we can't just ignore it!" Blackjack roared, surging to his feet again. "Just because I don't have a plan doesn't mean we should just sit back and do nothing. Our crews are being discriminated against. We owe it to them to take some kind of firm action."
Several voices rose in both support and protest, but Tambu cut the growing pandemonium short.
"Jelly," he said, "I believe you're next as soon as we have some quiet."
"Thank you, sir." The old man bowed as the voices died down around him. "I would contest Mr.
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Blackjack's last comment, I do not feel our crews are being singled out for special treatment."
There were several growls at this; but for the most part, the audience held its peace, waiting for the old captain to have his say.
"Mr. Cowboy's father was a policeman. Well, I was a policeman, too. Incidents such as those which have been recounted here, beatings, attempted rapes, minor extortion by spaceport personnel, are not unique to members of our fleet. Police blotters are filled to overflowing with such cases, and have been since long before our fleet was established. The areas we most often frequent planetside-the bars, the places of amusement which surround the spaceports-have always experienced a higher than average occurrence of such crimes. I feel we are reacting emotionally because our friends and families are directly involved. I am concerned, as all of you are, but I cannot believe we are victims of a vast conspiracy on the part of the planets, or that the authorities sanction such activities against us."
"What about the times when the police have been directly involved with the beatings?" someone called angrily.
"Unscrupulous men in law enforcement uniforms are neither new nor rare," Jelly argued. "It is sad, but a part of reality. I still feel it is the work of individuals rather than of some sanctioned group."
"That's real pretty, Jelly," Ramona challenged, "but I don't buy it. My crew and I have been cruising the starlanes for a long time and had our share of hassles with the Groundhogs, but nothing like we've been getting lately. You can't convince me that what's been happening is just random street violence."
Tambu raised his eyebrows. Until now he hadn't been aware of how deep Ramona's feelings ran on this subject.
Individual arguments were raging among the captains again as he cleared his throat to restore order. This time, however, someone beat him to it.
"Shut up! All of you!"
The naked rage in the voice cut through the clamor like a sword stroke, and the captains abruptly lapsed into silence and gave ground from its point of origin. Exposed by the crowd's parting was a pixie-ish woman, standing tall on a chair. Her skin was poisonously mottled, marking her as a victim of New Leprosy. Though hers was an arrested case, many still felt uneasy in her presence.
"The chair recognizes A.C.," Tambu smiled.
The irony of his voice was lost on the stormy woman as she launched into her tirade.
"Never in my entire life have I heard such crybaby moaning and weeping," she announced bluntly. "Screw what Cowboy and Jelly are saying. I'll give you what you want to hear: 'We're being picked on... discriminated against.' So what!"
The assembled captains sat in stunned silence as she continued.
"Most of you don't know what discrimination is," A.C. challenged. "Well, I do. For eleven years now I've been a New Leper. No matter what laws have been passed, that's still a stigma I have to live with. Jelly here's a black. He's been discriminated against so long he doesn't even notice it anymore. A lot of you are other things that some people don't like: Orientals, Jews, witches, women, young, old, smart, dumb. You don't get hassled working for Tambu and instead of being grateful, you get spoiled rotten. You forget how unfair reality is!"
She dropped her eyes and took a deep breath as if trying to calm herself.
"You're discriminated against because you're different," she said softly. "You all are-your crews are. You ride around on ships instead of working in a hardware store down the street. You're transients on any planet, outside the local order. That makes you different. That's all it takes to have people envy, fear, and hate you all at once. You can't change that by breaking heads, just like you can't change that by acting nice and polite. You don't change it at all. You learn to live with it."
A.C.'s head came up and her voice hardened.
"There are only two options to that. You can be stampeded into damnfool useless action, letting any ignorant spaceport bum who mouths off or takes a swing at you control your actions, or you can tuck your tails between your legs and quit. I don't know about the rest of you, but it'll take a lot worse than what I've heard today before I holler for help or quit. If any of you or your crews can't take a few lumps in stride, I say good-bye and good riddance. Go ahead and fold, but don't try to justify your own weakness by asking the whole fleet to follow suit."
There was total silence when A.C. sat down. Tambu waited several moments, then cleared his throat.