"I thought I'd better check in here," came a bellow from the door. Don looked around and saw General Adams standing just inside, an ugly but efficient blaster held in an oversized hand. It leveled at the rapidly dying roboe. "Surprised you, didn't it?"
The roboe said nothing, large eyes pleading with Don like those of a deer that has been mortally wounded and wonders why such a thing should have happened to it. Before the horrified Don could do anything, the blaster shook the lab again and blasted the roboe into an inanimate heap of flesh.
"Oh!" wailed Shiela, sinking weakly to her knees.
"Why you ..." began Don moving towards the general, rage blazing from his eyes.
"Don't move," warned the other, blaster swinging quickly to cover him. "I'm in complete control now by order of the Earth Council and it's fortunate for you that I followed or you'd be lying there like that machine is."
"But that second shot was pure murder!"
"It was a rebel," came the emotionless statement. "Even if I hadn't killed him now, execution would have been certain as soon as practical."
"But he was dying!" wailed Shiela; "that, that was inhuman. We're supposed to be superior, but if you're an example of the human race, then I wonder if we are."
The cold eyes of the general stared at her. "Those words closely approach the borderline of treason, young lady. And in time of war, such as exists now, that could mean a court-martial."
"You overestimate yourself, General," Don informed him; "the young lady happens to be the daughter of Doctor Stone."