Mallory answered reluctantly, "Krassner, once more I beg of you to listen to reason."
"The time for reason is past. I want action. You, O'Shea! Speak to me! Are you going to turn the ship?"
Silence. I eased my revolver from its bolster with infinite slowness. I saw a puzzled look appear on Krassner's features, turn to a look of sudden doubt.
"O'Shea! Where are you? Speak to me!"
My g*n spoke for me.
Krassner never suffered for the misery he brought on others. He never knew what struck him. My shot crashed into his brain like a Jovian bolt. Without a word, a whimper, a groan, he collapsed where he stood, his lips still parted in the question he had been hurling at the door upon which, now my comrades were battering.
But even in death, Krassner was destined to throw a last blow amongst
