"By that time, though, an occasional sneezing fit and watering eyes didn't bother me any. I was far beyond the point where hay fever could add to my troubles.
"When I opened the airlock door, though, the spores drifting outside set the customs inspectors to sneezing and swearing more than seemed reasonable at the time." Captain Hannah inhaled a sip of rhial, and seemed to be enjoying the powerful stuff. He acted as if he thought he had finished.
"Well, go on," I urged him. "The marocca plants were still in good shape, weren't they?"
Hannah nodded. "They were growing luxuriously." He nodded his head a couple of more times, in spite of the discomfort it must have given him.
He said, "They made me burn the entire crop right away, of course. They didn't get all of the carolla or dingleburys, though. Or spores."
"Gloryanna III is the original home planet of marocca. They hated the stuff, of course, but they liked the profit. Then, when a plague almost wiped out the dingleburys, they introduced khorram furs as a cash crop. It wasn't as lucrative, but it was so much more pleasant that they outlawed marocca. Took them almost fifty years to stamp it out completely. Meanwhile, some clever native shipped a load of the stuff to Mypore II. He took his time, did it without any trouble and made his fortune. And got out again quickly.
"The Gloryannans were going to hold my Delta Crucis as security to pay for the cost of stamping out marocca all over again—those spores sprout fast—and for a time I was worried.
"Of course, when I showed them our contract—that you alone were responsible for everything once I landed the plants safely on Gloryanna III, they let me go.
"They'll send you the bill. They don't figure it will take them more than a few months to complete the job."