“Stay where you are,” Hartman said, showing the gun. “I won’t hesitate to kill you, you know.”
Duncan grinned. “Go ahead. You can’t pilot this ship. I can wait.”
Olcott got up unsteadily. “You’ll pilot it—back to Earth. Damn you, Duncan—”
“I’ll pilot it to Pluto. Nowhere else.”
Hartman intervened. “Wait. Listen, Duncan. We have several Varra Helmets aboard. You didn’t know that.”
“So what?”
“We do not need you as a pilot. If we make connections with the Varra, we can chart a course back to Earth by letting them instruct us.”
Duncan’s eyes changed.
He said, “You’re crazy.” But his voice lacked conviction.
“The Varra!” Olcott scowled. “But—”