"This isn't mutiny!" I said, speaking with all the deference I could muster. "Sure, I'll admit the cards aren't supposed to be here, but they are. And they're causing no harm. The capsule was lifted into orbit and the flight of this ship has been A-okay from the beginning. Now these cards are helping our morale, which needs a hell of a lot of help right now."
Spartan pointed the gun at me. His jaw was set; his eyes were lifeless marble. "I have the power of life and death over every living thing on this ship," he said.
When a man is threatened with a weapon, he sometimes gives up, but this puny little air gun pointed at me seemed harmless. Besides, I was angry. I took a step toward Spartan. I don't believe I would have touched him. The step was just to prove I wasn't afraid of him or the gun and I thought he was making too big an issue out of something very small.
Ping.
The gun went off and I felt a stinging sensation in my left arm. I raised it, plucked a tiny dart from the flesh. Suddenly my knees buckled and I collapsed on the deck.
I was not unconscious. I could hear Spartan telling Morrie to give him the cards. Morrie was too frightened to disobey.
"Put the cards in the waste disposal, Dr. Joel," said Spartan.
"Yes, sir." Warner Joel's voice had a tremor in it.
I tried to call him a stool pigeon, but my vocal chords wouldn't work.
"For this disobedience, Bill Drake will have twenty extra tours of duty in the next twenty days," said Spartan. "For wasting time, Morrie Grover will have ten extra tours. We need two men in the control room now, so each of you will take his extra turns in company with another member of the crew."