man's face was white, but he nodded slowly, and a weak grin cameonto his lips. "Maybe you didn't exaggerate those stories at that," heconceded slowly. "I take it I drew a short straw."

  "Very short. It wasn't worth it. No profit from the piddling sale ofdrugs is worth it."

  "There's a group of strings inside the number one fuel locker," Wilcoxsaid between his teeth. The numbness was wearing off, and theshattered bones in his hip were beginning to eat at him. "Paul, pullup one of the packages and bring it here, will you?"

  I found it without much trouble--along with a whole row of others,fine cords cemented to the side of the locker. The package I drew upweighed about ten pounds. Wilcox opened it and scooped out athimbleful of greenish powder. He washed it down with wine.

  "Fatal?" Muller asked.

  The man nodded. "In that dosage, after a couple of hours. But it cutsout the pain--ah, better already. I won't feel it. Captain, I wasnever piddling. Your ship has been the sole source of this drug toMars since a year or so after I first shipped on her. There are aboutseven hundred pounds of pure stuff out there. Grundy and the otherswould commit public murder daily rather than lose the few ounces ayear I gave them. Imagine what would happen when Pietro conscriptedthe _Wahoo_ and no drugs arrived. The addicts find out no more iscoming--they look for the peddlers--and _they_ start looking for theirsuppliers...."

  He shrugged. "There might have been time and ways, if I could havegotten the ship back to Earth or Jupiter. It might have beenrecommissioned into the Earth-Mars-Venus run, even. Pietro'sinjunction caught me before I could transship, but with anotherchance, I might have gotten the stuff to Mars in time.... Well, it wasa chance I took. Satisfied?"

  * * * * *

  Eve stared at him with horrified eyes. Maybe I was looking the same.It was plain enough now. He'd planned to poison the plants and driveus back. Murder of Hendrix had been a blunder when he'd thought itwasn't working properly. "What about Sam?" I asked.

  "Blackmail. He was too smart. He'd been sure Grundy was smuggling thestuff, and raking off from him. He didn't care who killed Hendrix asmuch as how much Grundy would pay to keep his mouth shut--with murderaround, he figured Grundy'd get rattled. The fool did, and Sam smelledbigger stakes. Grundy was bait to get him down near here. I killedhim."

  "And Lomax?"

  "I don't know. Maybe he was bluffing. But he kept going from room toroom with a pocketful of chemicals, making some kind of tests. Icouldn't take a chance on his being able to spot chromazone. So I hadGrundy give him my keys and tell him to go ahead--then jump him."

  And after that, when he wasn't quite killed, they'd been forced tofinish the job. Wilcox shrugged again. "I guess it got out of hand.I'll make a tape of the whole story for you, Captain. But I'dappreciate it if you'd get Napier down here. This is getting prettymessy."

  "He's on the way," Eve said. We hadn't seen her call, but the doctorarrived almost immediately afterwards.

  He sniffed the drug, and questioned us about the dose Wilcox hadtaken. Then he nodded slowly. "About two hours, I'd say. No chance atall to save him. The stuff is absorbed almost at once and beginschanging to something else in the blood. I'll be responsible, if youwant."

  Muller shrugged. "I suppose so. I'd rather deliver him in irons to ajury, but.... Well, we still have a lottery to hold!"

  It jerked us back to reality sharply. Somehow, I'd been fighting offthe facts, figuring that finding the cause would end the results. Buteven with Wilcox out of the picture, there were twelve of us left--andair for only ten!

  Wilcox laughed abruptly. "A favor for a favor. I can give you a betteranswer than a lottery."

  "Pop-corn! Bullard!" Eve slapped her head with her palm. "Captain,give me the master key." She snatched it out of his hand and was goneat a run.

  Wilcox looked disappointed, and then grinned. "Pop-corn and beans. Ioverlooked them myself. We're a bunch of city hicks. But when Bullardforgot his fears in his sleep, he remembered the answer--and got it somessed up with his dream and his new place as a hero that my complainttipped the balance. Grundy put the fear of his God into him then. Andyou didn't get it. Captain, you don't dehydrate beans andpop-corn--they come that way naturally. You don't can them, either, ifyou're saving weight. They're seeds--put them in tanks and they grow!"

  He leaned back, trying to laugh at us, as Napier finished dressing hiswound. "Bullard knows where the lockers are. And corn grows prettyfast. It'll carry you through. Do I get that favor? It's simpleenough--just to have Beethoven's Ninth on the machine and for thewhole damned lot of you to get out of my cabin and let me die in myown way!"

  Muller shrugged, but Napier found the tape and put it on. I wanted tosee the louse punished for every second of worry, for Lomax, forHendrix--even for Grundy. But there wasn't much use in vengeance atthis point.

  "You're to get all this, Paul," Wilcox said as we got ready to leave."Captain Muller, everything here goes to Tremaine. I'll make a tape onthat, too. But I want it to go to a man who can appreciate Hohmann'sconducting."

  Muller closed the door. "I guess it's yours," he admitted. "Now thatyou're head engineer here, Mr. Tremaine, the cabin is automaticallyyours. Take over. And get that junk in the fuel locker cleanedout--except enough to keep your helpers going. They'll need it, andwe'll need their work."

  "I'll clean out his stuff at the same time," I said. "I don't want anypart of it."

  He smiled then, just as Eve came down with Bullard and Pietro. The fatcook was sobered, but already beginning to fill with his ownimportance. I caught snatches as they began to discuss Bullard'sknowledge of growing things. It was enough to know that we'd alllive, though it might be tough for a while.

  Then Muller gestured upwards. "You've got a reduced staff, Dr. Pietro.Do you intend going on to Saturn?"

  "We'll go on," Pietro decided. And Muller nodded. They turned andheaded upwards.

  I stood staring at my engines. One of them was a touch out of phaseand I went over and corrected it. They'd be mine for over twoyears--and after that, I'd be back on the lists.

  Eve came over beside me, and studied them with me. Finally she sighedsoftly. "I guess I can see why you feel that way about them, Paul,"she said. "And I'll be coming down to look at them. But right now,Bullard's too busy to cook, and everyone's going to be hungry whenthey find we're saved."

  I chuckled, and felt the relief wash over me finally. I dropped myhand from the control and caught hers--a nice, friendly hand.

  But at the entrance I stopped and looked back toward the cabin whereWilcox lay. I could just make out the second movement of the Ninthbeginning.

  I never could stand the cheap blatancy of Hohmann's conducting.

  * * * * *

 
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