"Yeah. We figure it's no use stayin'. Comin' with us?"
Why not? It was his only chance for life. He had no stake in the colonies. He'd joined the Legion for adventure.
Then he looked at Kuna, and at Breska, thinking of all the people of two worlds who needed ground to grow food on, and water to grow it with. Something, perhaps the ancestor who had died in the Alamo, made him shake his sandy head.
"I reckon not," he said. "And I reckon you ain't, either."
He was quick on the draw, but Bull had his gun already out. The bullet thundered against Tex's skull. The world exploded into fiery darkness, through which he heard Breska say,
"Sure, Bull. Why should I stay here to die for nothing?"
Tex tried to cry out, but the blackness drowned him.
He came to lying on the catwalk. His head was bandaged. Frowning, he opened his eyes, blinking against the pain.
Breska hunched over the nearest gun, whistling softly through his teeth. "The Lone Prairee." Tex stared incredulously.
"I—I thought you'd gone with the others."