CAKEWALK TO GLORYANNA
BY L. J. STECHER, JR.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of Tomorrow June 1963
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The job was easy. The profit was enormous. The
only trouble was—the cargo had a will of its own!
Captain Hannah climbed painfully down from the Delta Crucis, hobbledacross the spaceport to where Beulah and I were waiting to greet himand hit me in the eye. Beulah—that's his elephant, but I have to takecare of her for him because Beulah's baby belongs to me and Beulah hasto take care of it—kept us apart until we both cooled down a little.Then, although still somewhat dubious about it, she let us go togetheracross the field to the spaceport bar.
I didn't ask Captain Hannah why he had socked me.
Although he has never been a handsome man, he usually has theweathered and austere dignity that comes from plying the remote reachesamong the stars. Call it the Look of Eagles. Captain Hannah had lostthe Look of Eagles. His eyes were swollen almost shut; every inch ofhim that showed was a red mass of welts piled on more welts, as thoughhe had tangled with a hive of misanthropic bees. The gold-braided hatof his trade was not clamped in its usual belligerent position slightlyover one eye. It was riding high on his head, apparently held up bymore of the ubiquitous swellings.
I figured that he figured that I had something to do with the way helooked.
"Shipping marocca to Gloryanna III didn't turn out to be a cakewalkafter all?" I suggested.
He glared at me in silence.
"Perhaps you would like a drink first, and then you would be willing totell me about it?"
I decided that his wince was intended for a nod, and ordered rhial.I only drink rhial when I've been exposed to Captain Hannah. It wasalmost a pleasure to think that I was responsible, for a change, forhaving him take the therapy.
"A Delta Class freighter can carry almost anything," he said at last,in a travesty of his usual forceful voice. "But some things it shouldnever try."
He lapsed back into silence after this uncharacteristic admission. Ialmost felt sorry for him, but just then Beulah came racking acrossthe field with her two-ton infant in tow, to show her off to Hannah. Iwalled off my pity. He had foisted those two maudlin mastodons off ontome in one of our earlier deals, and if I had somehow been responsiblefor his present troubles, it was no more than he deserved. I ratedwinning for once.
"You did succeed in getting the marocca to Gloryanna III?" I askedanxiously, after the elephants had been admired and sent back home.The success of that venture—even if the job had turned out to be moredifficult than we had expected—meant an enormous profit to both ofus. The fruit of the marocca is delicious and fabulously expensive.The plant grew only on the single planet Mypore II. Transshipped seedsinvariably failed to germinate, which explained its rarity.
The Myporians were usually, and understandably, bitterly, opposed toletting any of the living plants get shipped off their planet. But whenI offered them a sizable piece of cash plus a perpetual share of theprofits for letting us take a load of marocca plants to Gloryanna III,they relented and, for the first time in history, gave their assent. Infact, they had seemed delighted.
"I got them there safely," said Captain Hannah.
"And they ar