"She'll still make rey Gundre hold his fire! She'll still buy Wassreck free!"
Ungo twisted. His bulk loomed rock-rigid, bigger than ever. "You can't. Jarl! I won't let you! You are sick—crazy—"
The fire of recklessness in Jarl glowed brighter. "Tell me that tomorrow, Ungo!" he clipped through clenched teeth. "You may convince me—after the commissioner's ordered his men to shoot us down with that hell-cat aboard!"
Ungo's breath came faster. "Then let me go, Jarl! Let me get her—!"
Jarl brought the ray-gun up, stone-steady. "We may both die on Vesta, Ungo. That's enough for me to have resting on my conscience."
"But Jarl—"
"I'll shoot if I have to, Ungo."
Their eyes locked, and for a long moment they stood statue-like, unmoving. Then, half-sullenly, the Jovian stepped aside. "I'll be waiting, Jarl. Whatever happens, I'll be waiting."
Jarl did not answer. Of a sudden there were no words for him to say to Ungo. Ray-gun in hand, he ran down the hall, picking his way through the maze of ramps and corridors.
He thought: It would have been better if Wassreck had let me die on Horla.