Tight-lipped, with no sign that he so much as heard Pike Mawson's shriek of anguish, Ross hurled the control unit down into the roaring fire below....
It was quiet in this place ... so very, very quiet.
Only then, ever so faintly, a door-hinge creaked. Shoes whispered across synthoflooring.
For a long moment, Ross still lay unmoving.
The whispering shoes drew closer—enough shoes for several pairs of feet.
Slowly, Ross opened his eyes.
A tall, slim man stood beside the bed—a man whose dark blue uniform bore silver comets on its shoulder-straps.
Ross straightened just a trifle. Voice faint, he whispered, "Commandant Padora...."
The tall man inclined his head in a small, precise nod. "My congratulations, Mr. Ross."