Liddell stared mutely at his wife. Linda's face was drawn and white and for several moments no one spoke. Then Linda said:
"You'd better do whatever he says, Lidd."
"You know something?" Short said, laughing. "You'd better."
Without a word, Liddell stalked toward the de-materializer.
"Sooner or later they're going to catch you, Short," Liddell said an hour later. "Why don't you give yourself up now and get it over with."
"Don't make me laugh. Would you give yourself up? I'm a condemned killer, pal. Sure, maybe they'll catch me on Deneb or someplace, but every day I stay alive is an extra day of reprieve for me, and don't think I don't know it. Now, are you ready with that de-materializer or whatever the hell you call it?"
Liddell nodded and Short said, "Then let's go."
Liddell sat at the plotting table without moving. For a moment he stared defiantly at Short, but the escaped killer got up and placed a hand impersonally on Linda's shoulder. He closed the fingers and Linda's face went chalk-white. He looked at Liddell, challenging him with his eyes.
"Better do what he says, Lidd," Linda told her husband.
Liddell sat there and didn't answer. Linda turned to Short and said, "Let me talk to him for a minute."