It was in the messhall.
Without warning Leslie kicked over his chair. His face twisted. His hands whitened at the knuckles. There was an insane expression in his eyes. He looked slowly around the table.
With his first movement there came silence; it was instantaneous; it was as though the clock had stopped in a parlor of corpses. No one moved.
He screamed a great, searing curse. The word was English.
The crew waited. No one breathed.
Leslie began to break things with mounting fury. He shattered his plate by slamming it savagely to the table. He threw his cup against the far wall.
They waited. Many of them cried inward encouragement to insanity.
"Lies!" he screamed in English. "Lies! There is no Universe!"
He fell to his hands and knees and growled and snapped like an animal.
The Oligarch felt his detachment shatter. Hurriedly he left his table and went to Leslie and killed him.