"This," he said when Moran and Carol reëntered, "this is bessendium past question. I've been thinking what it means."
"Money," said Moran drily. "You'll all be rich. You'll probably retire from politics."
"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind," said Burleigh distastefully. "You've gotten us into the devil of a mess, Moran!"
"For which," said Moran with ironic politeness, "there is a perfect solution. You kill me, either directly or by leaving me marooned here."
Burleigh scowled.
"We have to land at space-ports for supplies. We can't hope to hide you, it's required that landed ships be sterilized against infections from off-planet. We can't pass you as a normal passenger. You're not on the ship's papers and they're alteration-proof. Nobody's ever been able to change a ship's papers and not be caught! We could land and tell the truth, that you hijacked the ship and we finally overpowered you. But there are reasons against that."
"Naturally!" agreed Moran. "I'd be killed anyhow and you'd be subject to intensive investigation. And you're fugitives as much as I am."
"Just so," admitted Burleigh.
Moran shrugged.
"Which leaves just one answer. You maroon me and go on your way."