Then, abruptly, that moment passed, and language no longer mattered.
"Kruze," I said, quite levelly, "count on one thing: I'm going to kill you."
The controller's eyes widened, just a fraction. "Traynor, you fool—!"
I got up, paying him no heed. It was a stolid, unhurried movement, better suited to his temperament and heavy body than to mine.
"Traynor, I'll shoot!"
I laughed aloud.
"Traynor—!"
I said, "Don't worry. You'll kill me. But I'll still get to you, even so. Dead or alive, bare-handed, I'll tear open your throat and bash your brains out!"
"Traynor, listen...."
Flat-footed, unspeaking, I took a slow step towards him.