Starrigger

18

I needed a weapon. I had been getting and losing them at a rapid rate lately. Another squib would be just the thing, but I doubted one could be found, as they aren't a popular item. Everybody wants a hand-cannon, for some reason. True, you can't cut through vanadium steel with a squib, but I know of few dangerous beings made of steel. You get few shots with a palm-size weapon, but you only need the one that does the job. There was a hitch, however. From the shootout at Sonny's everyone knew I favored a squib and knew exactly where I kept it hidden, if they didn't know before. All right; I'd get a shooting iron too.

The shopping area was large, divided up into stores that sold anything and everything, with no particular emphasis on any one market. I browsed through one that offered clothing, toiletries, camping equipment, food, and shelves of miscellaneous bric-a-brac. They sold weapons too. A pretty middle-aged woman showed me to a display case. The selection wasn't much; there were half a dozen odd pieces in various models, an S & W like Hogan's among them. I had second thoughts about getting a wall-burner. Maybe the 10kw would be enough. She took it out of the case for me. It was basically the same as the slave trader's, but the powerpack was a different, earlier design and was a good deal bulkier, awkwardly so. I didn't like it, but the alternatives were few. There were two Russian slug-throwers, a Colonial-made beamer, and one antique replica that qualified as a hand-cannon by anyone's lights, if you didn't mind throwing a barely supersonic projectile.

"Let me see that one," I said.

She chuckled. "Are you going to shoot it out with the sheriff?"

"I think you have the wrong period. It's a nice piece, though. What's its rating… er, caliber?"

"I wouldn't know, sir," she said.

I looked. "Oh, it says right here. Forty-four magnum. Hm. Have any ammunition?"

"I only have one box of twenty shells. Sorry, but I let someone talk me into taking that thing on a trade. Thought I could get a good price from a collector. No takers."

"It's authentic?"

"Oh, yes. Reconditioned, but it's the genuine article."

I doubted it. In fact, it looked as if it had been doctored up to look the part. She'd gotten stung, all right, and she was trying to off-load it on me. "No kidding?" I said innocently.

"Shoots pretty good, too," she said. "I used it to bang away at some croakers once. Didn't hit anything, of course."

"Uh-huh. I'll take it. How much?"

She'd let me steal it from her for fifty consols. I pilfered it for thirty-five, and I could see by her eyes that she was glad to get that. She even threw in a holster. I put the thing on, then slipped the gun into it. "Nice doing business with you…."

She smiled prettily. "Belle. Belle Shapiro. Hey, you're not going to walk around the ship with that thing, are you?"

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "No rule against it. Most people like to keep their hardware concealed, that's all."

"I'm a straightforward sort of person."

Her grin widened. "I think you are too. That makes two of us. Like to join me in a drink later? I'm about ready to close up shop."

"Love to. Belle, but I'm expected at the Captain's table, and something tells me a heavy evening lies ahead."

"Too bad. Well, some other time."

"You're sure there's no problem about wearing this?" I asked, taking the gun out and loading it with five shells, leaving the hammer over an empty chamber. I'd seen those old mopix too.

"No problem, though the Old Man has been threatening to start a policy of having all beam weapons checked at the desk. We've had a rash of fires lately. But it'd take too much time, and no one's been able to come up with a way to scan the luggage. Can't get the equipment."

As she spoke, a wild thought came into my head from parts unknown. "Belle, is there a pharmacy aboard?"

"No, not really. What do you need?"

"I don't know exactly. Something to keep me awake."

"Oh, I have plenty of high-altitude stuff." She went to another part of the store and brought back two big glass jars filled with pills of different colors and sizes. She popped the lid of one jar and began fingering through it. "Let's see… I think these little green ones are pretty good. You say you want to stay awake?"

"Yeah, very awake."

"Well, maybe these pink numbers." She bit her lip. "No, those are broad-spectrum antineoplasmics. I think." She looked at me. "Very awake… or extremely awake?"

"Like this," I said, making my eyes round and crazed.

She snickered. "That much? Wait, I might have something." She opened the other jar and dug her hand into the contents like a kid searching for just the right shade of jelly bean.

"Do you know what's in any of these?"

"Most of them," she said. "I used to keep a list, but I lost it. Here they are." She pulled out one big choker of a horsepill, bright purple in color. "Now, I don't know what's in this one, but it's some kind of antidepressant."

"You don't know the chemistry?"

"No, but it'll cure the blues, that I can tell you. They're a popular item."

"I'll take one. Can you get me a glass of water?"

"Sure, honey."

She brought the water, and I managed to' gulp down the pill. Then I got out of there.

I was late for dinner.