Kane's face did not change expression. "Okay. So what?"
Pop's lips twitched. "I just wanted to hear you say it." He looked at the impassive face of the killer. "You made a mistake, Mr. Kane. You shouldn't have done that to my boy."
"Is that all?"
Pop nodded slowly. "I guess that's all."
Kane grinned. "Afraid, old man?"
"I'm a space pig," Pop said. "Space takes care of its own."
"You're in a bad way, old timer," Kane said, "and you haven't much sense. I'm doing you a favor."
Pop lifted his hands in an instinctive gesture of futile protection as the blaster erupted flame.
There was a smell in the control room like burnt meat as Kane holstered his weapon and turned the old man over with a foot. Pop was a blackened mass. Kane dragged him to the valve and jettisoned the body into space.