Negasi sat in his turret, scanning the surrounding space. Still no threats. He figured they were safe. The slavers had been confident enough in their victory that if they had more than one ship, they would have all been on the spot to collect their human cargo.

The gunner snarled and looked at the ruined hulk of their ship with grim satisfaction. It was floating out of visual range now, set in motion by the forces that had destroyed it and leaving a trail of debris.

Everyone on board was dead. Good.

He remembered when he had discovered one of his employers was buying and selling people. It had been early in Negasi's career when he wasn't as streetwise as he was now. He had signed on with a crew of what he thought were honest smugglers. He told himself the large cargo hold was for contraband. He told himself the extra food stores were for a long voyage. A lot of money got waved in his face and that had made him stupid.

It was only when they landed in a deep crater on a remote moon and rendezvoused with another ship that he learned the truth.

A heavily armed all-purpose linked airlocks with them and Negasi's captain greeted his counterpart. Negasi immediately realized something was up. He'd gotten pretty good at reading people, especially the criminal types he had surrounded himself with, and he could tell this guy was dangerous. There was a soullessness to his eyes one saw only in the worst sort. The two crewmen who came with him were the same.

Negasi also noted they carried stun wands, not regular weapons.

"Here's the contraband, just as you requested," the other captain said.

Another pair of crewmen led a shuffling, shackled column of young men and women through the airlock. Their eyes looked soulless too, but for a very different reason.

"Looking nice," Negasi's captain said with a satisfied smile. "Negasi, Brent, take the merchandise to the hold."

The merchandise. Negasi almost shot him right then and there. The only thing that stopped him was realization that he'd be dead an instant later and the slaves would remain in bondage.

So he bided his time. He and Brent moved the human chattel to the hold and locked them inside.

"We're going to have a good time tonight," Brent snickered.

"I better get to the turret," Negasi said. "I don't trust these guys."

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"Good idea. I'll go back to the captain and tell him you're on the job."

Negasi did go to the turret, but not before going to the weapons locker and grabbing a couple of fragmentation grenades.

He sat in the turret until they took off. The shipwide comm announced that the "cargo was secure" and that everyone had to stay alert until they jumped to light speed. After that, all nonessential personnel were invited to a party in the mess.

It didn't take a genius to know what the entertainment would be.

He waited until the mess was full and everyone was drinking before he stepped inside. They hadn't brought out any of the slaves yet. Good. He chucked both fragmentation grenades into the mess and slammed the door. Then he went onto the bridge, shot the pilot, and went down to engineering to shoot the engineer.

He felt no guilt and no hesitation, only a queasiness and a deep shame, shame for not seeing it earlier.

It was a long voyage back to a civilized world, where he and the freed slaves made a full report to the authorities. Negasi admitted everything—that he was a smuggler, that he had been on the crew for several months, and that he had killed every one of his crewmates.

They let him go. He almost felt disappointed. Shouldn't he be punished, even just a little?

Negasi looked at the slaver ship drifting away, now a lifeless hulk.

The shipwide comm chirped, yanking him out of his thoughts.

Jeridan's frantic voice came over the speaker, almost drowned out by a background of shouting and stomping feet.

"We got a riot on our hands! Help!"

Negasi grabbed his slug rifle, realized he couldn't use it on civilians, and took it anyway just in case.

He raced down the corridor to the airlock. Before he could reach the vidscreen, MIRI turned it on.

It showed utter chaos on the other side of the door. A swirling mass of people struggled in the airlock, several banging on the door or on the controls, which someone had locked on the other side.

Someone who didn't want the Antikythera to get mobbed.

Negasi caught a brief glimpse of Jeridan's bruised face appear amid the struggling bodies like the face of a drowning man gasping for air, and then he got sucked under.

What to do? He didn't have a stun gun. He thought of Aurora's Taser but realized he didn't have time to fetch it. Even if he had it, the thing could only hit one of these people at a time and would probably run out of juice before he got halfway through the crowd.

"Gotta do it the ugly way," he muttered.

"MIRI, open the door just enough for me to get through."

The door slid open a quarter way. Instantly three people spilled onto the floor.

Negasi clubbed them with the butt of his rifle. He didn't want to, but if he didn't stop this riot right now, his best friend and a lot of passengers would get seriously injured or even killed.

Another passenger staggered over the bodies. Negasi gave her a kick to the stomach that sent her flying back into the tangle.

Negasi clambered over the bodies, shouting at the crowd to disperse. He caught a glimpse of a couple of crewmembers trying and failing to push everybody back.

Negasi waded in, hating every swing and kick, but it was the only way to save lives. The passengers were too panicked to stop. More pressed from in from behind and Negasi found himself getting pushed back. Every time he hit someone, they fell and got trampled by the next three.

"Jeridan!" he shouted.

He stumbled and almost fell.

"Jeridan!"

Then the worst thing of all happened.

The airlock door opened all the way.

The crowd surged for it, and Negasi was thrown down and trampled.

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