"Put your arm over my neck, sir. Gee you've hurt your eye terribly."
But the Captain gave no sign of understanding. He pulled back suspiciously when Templar reached for his arm.
"Sir, are you all right? I think Hogan is almost crazy enough to shoot us. He's gone absolutely mad."
Covering them with his rifle, Hogan came closer, his dust-streaked face aquiver with indecision. "He's nuts Temp. Look at his face. Why doesn't he speak?"
Shoot me you fool, the Captain's brain screamed. Beneath its hood the thing quivered violently, but it held the Captain's body under perfect control.
Hogan jammed his rifle muzzle against the Captain's head. "Speak, damn you, speak. What's on your back? You see Temp, he's so crazy he can't even speee—"
Violently the Captain's body grappled for possession of the rifle. With a blinding flash it went off between them. Over and over in the dust they rolled, while Templar danced about and did nothing. As the Captain's hands clamped on Hogan's windpipe he saw Templar had finally picked up the rifle. Surely he must see the thing on his back. Shoot me, you fool.
Gasping, Hogan tore loose and swung his fist against the Captain's teeth. Lunging, he drove his knee into the Captain's stomach.
In that moment Templar made his decision. He slammed down the rifle barrel on Hogan's skull.