'Didn't you hear me!' bellowed the man. 'Drop your guns onto the ground.'
The pilot went for his flame pistol, in a swift blur of motion that almost tricked the eye.
But the gun was only half out of its holster when one of the guns in the hands of the man inside the ship blasted with a lurid jet of flame. The charge struck the pilot's space suit, split it open with the fury of its energy. The pilot crumpled and rolled, with arms flapping weirdly, down the hill, to come to rest against the old space derelict. His suit glowed cherry-red.
'Maybe now you know I ain't fooling,' said the man.
Gramp, with one finger, carefully lifted his pistol from its holster and let it drop to the ground. Jurg Tec and the senator did likewise. There was no use being foolish. Not when a killer had you covered with two guns.
The man stepped carefully out of the ship and waved them back. He bolstered one of his guns, stooped and scooped up the three weapons on the ground.
'What's the meaning of this?' demanded the senator.
The man chuckled.
'I'm Spike Cardy,' he said. 'Maybe you heard of me. Only man to escape from Ganymede prison.
Said nobody could break that crib. But Spike Cardy did.'