The calendric chronometer informed him he’d spent three weeks there. He couldn’t remember how their year compared with the standard one.
He discovered presently that he was growing remarkably restless on this homeward run. The ship seemed unnaturally quiet — that was part of the trouble. The captain’s cabin in particular and the passage leading past it to the Venture’s old crew quarters had become as dismal as a tomb. He made a few attempts to resume his sessions of small talk with Illyla via her picture; but the picture remained aloof.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong. Leaving Karres was involved in it, of course; but he wouldn’t have wanted to stay on that world indefinitely, among its hospitable but secretive people. He’d had a very agreeable, restful interlude there; but then it clearly had been time to move on. Karres wasn’t where he belonged.
Nikkeldepain…?
He found himself doing a good deal of brooding about Nikkeldepain, and realized one day, without much surprise, that if it weren’t for Illyla he simply wouldn’t be going back there now. But where he would be going instead, he didn’t know.
It was puzzling. He must have been changing gradually these months, though he hadn’t become too aware of it before. There was a vague, nagging feeling that somewhere was something he should be doing and wanted to be doing. Something of which he seemed to have caught momentary glimpses of late, but without recognizing it for what it was. Returning to Nikkeldepain, at any rate, seemed suddenly like walking back into a narrow, musty cage in which he had spent too much of his life…
Well, he thought, he’d have to walk back into it for a while anyway. Once he’d found a way to discharge his obligations there, he and Illyla could start looking for that mysterious something else together.
The days went on and he learned for the first time that space travel could become nothing much more than a large hollow period of boredom. At long last, Nikkeldepain II swam up in the screens ahead. The captain put the Venture 7333 on orbit, and broadcast the ship’s identification number. Half an hour later Landing Control called him. He repeated the identification number, added the ship’s name, owner’s name, his name, place of origin, and nature of cargo.
The cargo had to be described in detail. It would be attached, of course; but at that point he could pass the ball to Onswud and Onswud’s many connections.
“Assume Landing Orbit 21,203 on your instruments,” Landing Control instructed him curtly. “A customs ship will come out to inspect.”
He went on the assigned orbit and gazed moodily from the vision ports at the flat continents and oceans of Nikkeldepain 11 as they drifted by below. A sense of equally flat depression overcame him suddenly. He shook it off and remembered Illyla.
Three hours later a ship ran up next to him, and he shut off the orbital drive. The communicator began buzzing. He switched it on.
“Vision, please!” said an official-sounding voice. The captain frowned, located the vision stud of the communicator screen and pushed it down. Four faces appeared in the screen, looking at him.
“Illyla!” the captain said.
“At least,” young Councilor Rapport said unpleasantly, “he’s brought back the ship, Father Onswud!”
“Illyla!” said the captain.
Councilor Onswud said nothing. Neither did Illyla. Both continued to stare at him, but the screen wasn’t good enough to let him make out their expressions in detail.
The fourth face, an unfamiliar one above a uniform collar, was the one with the official-sounding voice.
“You are instructed to open the forward lock, Captain Pausert,” it said, “for an official investigation.”
It wasn’t until he was about to release the outer lock to the control room that the captain realized it wasn’t Customs who had sent a boat out to him but the Police of the Republic.
However, he hesitated only a moment. Then the outer lock gaped wide.
He tried to explain. They wouldn’t listen. They had come on board in contamination-proof repulsor suits, all four of them; and they discussed the captain as if he weren’t there. Illyla looked pale and angry and beautiful, and avoided looking at him.
However, he didn’t want to speak to her in front of the others anyway.
They strolled back through the ship to the storage and gave the Karres cargo a casual glance.
“Damaged his lifeboat, too!” Councilor Rapport remarked.
They brushed past him up the narrow passage and went back to the control room. The policeman asked to see the log and commercial records. The captain produced them.
The three men studied them briefly. Illyla gazed stonily out at Nikkeldepain II.
“Not too carefully kept!” the policeman pointed out.
“Surprising he bothered to keep them at all!” said Councilor Rapport.
“But it’s all clear enough!” said Councilor Onswud.
They straightened up then and faced him in a line. Councilor Onswud folded his arms and projected his craggy chin. Councilor Rapport stood at ease, smiling faintly. The policeman became officially rigid.
“Captain Pausert,” the policeman said, “the following charges — substantiated in part by this preliminary examination — are made against you—”
“Charges?” said the captain.
“Silence, please!” rumbled Councilor Onswud.
“First, material theft of a quarter-million value of maels of jewels and jeweled items from a citizen of the Imperial Planet of Porlumma—”
“They were returned!” the captain said indignantly.
“Restitution, particularly when inspired by fear of retribution, does not affect the validity of the original charge,” Councilor Rapport quoted, gazing at the ceiling.
“Second,” continued the policeman. “Purchase of human slaves, permitted under Imperial law but prohibited by penalty of ten years to lifetime penal servitude by the laws of the Republic of Nikkeldepain—”
“I was just taking them back where they belonged!” said the captain.
“We shall get to that point presently,” the policeman replied. “Third, material theft of sundry items in the value of one hundred and eighty thousand maels from a ship of the Imperial Planet of Lepper, accompanied by threats of violence to the ship’s personnel—”
“I might add in explanation of the significance of this particular charge,” added Councilor Rapport, looking at the floor, “that the Regency of Sirius, containing Lepper, is allied to the Republic of Nikkeldepain by commercial and military treaties of considerable value. The Regency has taken the trouble to point out that such hostile conduct by a citizen of the Republic against citizens of the Regency is likely to have an adverse effect on the duration of the treaties. The charge thereby becomes compounded by the additional charge of a treasonable act against the Republic.”
He glanced at the captain. “I believe we can forestall the accused’s plea that these pilfered goods also were restored. They were, in the face of superior force!”
“Fourth,” the policeman went on patiently, “depraved and licentious conduct while acting as commercial agent, to the detriment of your employer’s business and reputation—”
“WHAT?” choked the captain.
“ — involving three of the notorious Witches of the Prohibited Planet of Karres—”
“Just like his great-uncle Threbus!” nodded Councilor Onswud gloomily. “It’s in the blood, I always say!”
“ — and a justifiable suspicion of a prolonged stay on said Prohibited Planet of Karres—”
“I never heard of that place before this trip!” shouted the captain.
“Why don’t you read your Instructions and Regulations then?” shouted Councilor Rapport. “It’s all there!”
“Silence, please!” shouted Councilor Onswud.