He understood too well. He ducked out of the flight office. He'd stay and take it here if he had to, escape some way if he could. Nothing was worth that kind of sacrifice.
He went slowly back to the apartment. It was not so strange that the police hadn't arrested him. They knew that he'd stay on the planet, that he had to. They'd had it figured out long before he did.
He fell into the bed without removing his clothing. The bed made no effort to induce him to sleep. It wasn't necessary.
In the morning, Jadiver awakened to the smell of food. The room he slept in was dark, but in the adjacent room he could hear the Kitch-Hen clucking away contentedly as it prepared breakfast.
He rolled over and sat up. He was not alone.
"Cobber?" he called.
"Yeah," said Cobber. He was very close, but Jadiver couldn't see him.
"The police got them," Jadiver said, reaching for the tangle gun. It was gone. He'd expected that.
"I heard. I was waiting for them and they didn't come." He was silent for a moment. "It had to be you, didn't it?"