Hilton looked where the glow of the Sun-child pulsed against ebon rock. "The Unregenerates won't trouble us any more."
He raised the muzzle of his blaster to his head.
It was then that Falken remembered his was empty. He dropped it and sprang. He shocked hard against Hilton's middle, struck him down, clawing for his gun arm. But Hilton was heavy, and strong.
He rolled away and brought his barrel lashing down across Falken's temple. Falken crouched, dazed and bleeding, in the mud.
He laughed, and said, "Why don't you kill me, Hilton?"
Hilton looked from Falken's uncowed, snarling face to Sheila. The blaster slipped suddenly from his fingers. He covered his face with his hands and was silent, shivering.
Falken said, with curious gentleness, "That proves it. You've got to have faith in a thing, to kill or die for it."
Hilton whispered, "Sheila!" She smiled and kissed him, and Falken looked steadfastly away, wiping the blood out of his eyes.
Hilton grasped suddenly at the helmet of his vac-suit. He talked, rapidly, as he worked.