I stared at him. I'd never seen a man like this before; I thought all his kind had died at the time of the atomic wars.
I heard Val sob, "He's a madman!"
"No," Ledman said evenly. "I'm quite sane, believe me. But I'm determined to drive the Geigs—and UranCo—off Mars. Eventually I'll scare you all away."
"Just pick us off in the desert?"
"Exactly," replied Ledman. "And I have no fears of an armed attack. This place is well fortified. I've devoted years to building it. And I'm back against those hills. They couldn't pry me out." He let his pale hand run up into his gnarled hair. "I've devoted years to this. Ever since—ever since I landed here on Mars."
"What are you going to do with us?" Val finally asked, after a long silence.
He didn't smile this time. "Kill you," he told her. "Not your husband. I want him as an envoy, to go back and tell the others to clear off." He rocked back and forth in his wheelchair, toying with the gleaming, deadly blaster in his hand.
We stared in horror. It was a nightmare—sitting there, placidly rocking back and forth, a nightmare.
I found myself fervently wishing I was back out there on the infinitely safer desert.