Then for a moment their helmets touched.
"You're a real jerk, Majtech! Why do you think I didn't take any of those guns with me from the Flagship's arsenal? Hell, there wasn't one in there that worked!"
B-Haaq made a desperate grab for the side-dog on Jon's helmet; caught it, began to twist!
Jon clamped the suited arm, held it ... held it, twisted his body. Then fingered the suit pack into blazing life, melting a horrible, gaping hole in the Majtech's suit!
For the merest fraction of a second he saw the terror stricken grimace of hatred and disbelief on B-Haaq's thin face, and then the interior of the helmet was a mass of exploding flesh and blood.
He whirled. Blasted recklessly back to the Justifier, almost missed; back-blasted, slid.
He grabbed Deanne about the waist of her suit, and then flicked on his space radio.
"This is Kane calling Stine! Kane, calling Stine! Do you hear me, Stine?"
His earphones crackled. "What the blue Jupiter is going on out there, Kane? Have you—"
"Stine, you're a real dumbhead! A real Prokyman bat brain! You should have learned better who to trust by this time! The girl and I have done a job for you out here. You'll never get it fixed now, not in ten million years! Sure, a system dies; it gives its life, but so that people like you can't make other people think you're God and enslave others like it! You're through, Stine!"