"You hate me,” screamed Stutsman. “All of you hate me. You are doing this because you hate me."
"Everyone hates you, Stutsman,” said Greg. “Every living person hates you. You have a cloud of hate hanging over you as black and wide as space."
The man closed his eyes, trying to break free of the bonds.
"Bring me a spacesuit,” snapped Greg, watching Stutsman's face.
Craven brought it and dropped it at Stutsman's feet.
"All right, Russ,” said Greg. “Turn him loose.” Stutsman swayed and almost fell as the bands of force released him.
"Get into that suit,” ordered Greg.
Stutsman hesitated, but something he saw in Greg's face made him lift the suit, step into it, fasten it about his body.
"What are you going to do with me?” he whimpered. “You aren't going to take me back to Earth again, are you? You aren't going to make me stand trial?"
"No,” said Greg, gravely, “we aren't taking you back to Earth. And you're standing trial right now."