"And it would kill—it would have to. That reaction could not be made reversible."
"Certainly," Worsel concurred. "I never could understand why you soft-headed, soft-hearted, soft-bodied human beings are so reluctant to kill your enemies. What good does it do merely to stun them?"
"QX—skip it." Thorndyke knew that it was hopeless to attempt to convince the utterly unhuman Worsel of the fundamental rightness of human ethics. "But nothing has ever been designed small enough to project such a wave."
"I realize that. Its design and construction will challenge your inventive ability. Its smallness is its great advantage. He could wear it in a ring, in the bracelet of his Lens; or, since it will be actuated, controlled, and directed by thought, even imbedded surgically beneath his skin."
"How about backfires?" Thorndyke actually shuddered. "Projection—shielding—"
"Details—mere details," Worsel assured him, with an airy flip of his scimitared tail.
"That's nothing to be running around loose," the man argued. "Nobody could tell what killed them, could they?"
"Probably not." Worsel pondered briefly. "No. Certainly not. The substance must decompose in the instant of death, from any cause. And it would not be 'loose,' as you think; it should not become known, even. You would make only the one, of course."
"Oh. You don't want one, then?"
"Certainly not. What do I need of such a thing? Kinnison only—and only for his protection."