"Ah, yes, I remember now. Your brother, I presume. I had heard on the telecast that he was sentenced for smuggling Silicytes. Most unfortunate."
"Unfortunate for you, right now. Sign!"
Tarnuff calmly ignored the menacing pistol and said:
"But this statement implicates me most seriously, Ron Jordan. I do not like that."
"Sign," Ron said through clenched teeth, "or I blast you here and now."
Tarnuff shook his head. "That's one thing I know you won't do. Not without my signature. You need it too badly."
"Do I? You forget one thing, Tarnuff. The Patrol's still looking for a ship named Lucifer and your attempt to disguise it was pretty clumsy. I had intended to let you escape at your convenience, but now I'll just have to take you and this ship back to Earth. That should be conclusive enough."
But Tarnuff was smiling blandly, leaning back in the chair. He was hugely amused at something, and Ron was vaguely worried without exactly knowing why.
"No, Ron Jordan," the Martian was saying. "I don't think you'll dare set this spacer on Earth or any other planet."
"Why not?"