Ron drew one of the Martian pistols, hoisted it thoughtfully in his hand. He had slain Oruk with it. That had been the first time he'd ever fired one. But he liked the easy, comfortable feel, every bit as familiar as his own electro-pistol.
"Well?" Tarnuff was impatient.
With a sudden surge of confidence Ron made up his mind.
"You're right, Tarnuff. We'll get it over with one way or the other! I think I'm as good a man as you at any game! Rules?"
Tarnuff, smiling, held up one finger. "One apiece."
"You're going to make it precise, eh? That's okay by me. I'm considered a pretty good shot with any kind of pistol."
"And I," replied Tarnuff with easy arrogance, "have killed four men on the asteroids in duels such as this. Marksmanship is not all."
Ron nodded. He removed the charges from both firing chambers, making very sure that only one charge was left in each.
"Your electro-pistol," Tarnuff said. "Leave it here in the control room. Not that I don't trust you, but everything must be equal."
"I've a better idea than that. I don't trust you either. Want to watch this?" Ron donned a space-suit again, stepped into the airlock and hurled his electro-pistol far away into the void where it drifted out of reach forever. Tarnuff, watching from a port, nodded his satisfaction as Ron returned.