Barrow was looking straight ahead, and not a muscle of his face moved until he spoke. "I'm afraid he isn't bluffing. No reason why he should be. Leah is gone and the timer is gone. And a pirate ship would have uranite."
"The ship?" asked Tar Norn. "It will take some time to fuel it and—"
Director Barrow's voice was positive. "There will be no ship for you, Tar Norn."
Roger Corey's voice cut in, jerkily. "Let me work on him, sir. Me and Wayne. Maybe we can make him talk."
Barrow shook his head. "No use, Corey. Venusians don't mind pain as much as Earthmen. They almost like it. You could take him apart, and he wouldn't talk."
The pirate's smile faded. "It will take half an hour to prepare the ship, Director Barrow. Better not stall too long."
Mart said, his voice urgent. "But, sir, Leah! What's one pirate compared to—"
Barrow's face was granite-like. "He's killed hundreds of people. If we release him, he'll kill hundreds more. One life cannot weigh against that. Corey, take him away. Lock him up until the next ship leaves for Earth."
Mart's fists were clenched, his fingernails biting into the palms. But he knew Barrow was right; that he couldn't possibly take any other course and be worthy of his post. One life couldn't weigh against the many lives that meeting the pirate's terms would mean. That was where Tar Norn had miscalculated. A Venusian didn't understand responsibility to society, nor any higher ideal than self-interest.
Tar Norn tossed the wig and glasses to the floor as Corey took his arm. His pupil-less eyes seemed to glow with anger.