"It's you or me, Headley," he snarled. "And I figure it's going to be me."
Headley felt horror welling into his mind, but he forced his voice to be absolutely calm and unemotional.
"Don't be a fool, man," he said. "Both of us can make it back, by going on short oxy-rations."
Caxton shook his head. "I'm going back," he said viciously. "I'm taking the ship, the kronalium, and a couple of those damned animals for evidence. I'll say that you died on Uranus." His voice was suddenly flat and deadly. "Sucker!"
A cone of blackness flared from the gun in his hand, caught Tom Headley, dropped him in his tracks. He twitched silently, lay where he had fallen, his right arm splashing liquid from the tiny pool at his feet.
A cone of blackness dropped Headley in his tracks.
Bart Caxton tossed the gun aside, leaned over, unscrewed the hinged valve on Headley's oxygen tank, then callously dumped the unconscious man into the pool.