to go along?"
A thin voice of warning whispered in Dane's ear. Something about Kris' manner did not quite ring true. Nevertheless, he found himself shrugging:
"Sure, if I can help."
KRIS left the ship, with Dane close behind him. Trudging up the narrow cobbled streets, they had to stand aside many times for crowds of men and women pouring from alleys with their belongings. The Rulers' House was deserted when they passed it; long cracks in the masonry told why.
The Great Red Spot, unusually bright tonight, was like an ugly crimson gash in the sky above the hill-top when they gained it. Momentarily, Dane was gripped by the intensity of its light. It sparkled on the bronze machinery about them, cast a reddish fog over the city. The cancer-like crater appeared almost to have a sort of life of its own. It was not for almost a minute that Dane noticed the brooding silence in the plant. Quickly he looked at Kris.
"I thought you said we'd help," he frowned. "They're all gone, and the vats are empty."
The shadow-man smiled a little as he drew his gun.
"Sorry I had to mislead you. But it was the only way to get you alone without arousing your suspicions."
The sinews of Dane's arms and legs began to bunch, and his glance flicked to the gun.
"What's the idea?" he demanded.
"Let's be honest with each other," Kris suggested quietly. "You and I both love Margo. But we can't both have her. So one of us is going to stay behind when the ships leave."
"You damned, jealous fool!" Dane raged. "Margo's yours. I've never tried to take her from you and I wouldn't if she offered me her love. Put that gun away. Killing me is the one thing that would alienate her from you forever."
"I want more than marriage with Margo," Kris clipped. "I want her love. While you're alive, I could never be sure of it. Nor could you be sure of it if I were alive. For the good of all of us, either you or I is going to die here."
The light that burned in the Ionian's face was madness, and Dane knew better than to tackle him unarmed. Temporizing, he grunted:
"What's your proposition?"
Kris held the gun in his palm.
"This is a fifteen shot pistol, of an ordinary Earth-make. I have one charge in it. We will spin the cylinder, then toss a coin for the first shot. The man who wins, fires first at the other. If that chamber is empty, the gun passes to the other man. And so on." As an afterthought, he patted his goldmail shirt. "I have another pistol in here. If you try to club me with the gun when it is your turn to shoot I'll defend myself. Now let's start. Do you have a coin?"
Dane found a quarter,
"Tails!" he muttered. He tossed it, his eyes clinging to the shadow-man's face. How to get out of this tragic situation seemed as difficult at present, as trisecting a right triangle with a pair of dividers. Kris grunted with satisfaction.
"I WIN! Ready, Cabot?"
The gun was close to his stomach, and there was not the shadow of a chance to stop Kris now. Sweat came out in fine beads over his face. His stomach sucked in. Dane had to lick his lips before he could reply.
"Go ahead, if you've got to!"
Kris pulled the trigger. The pistol emitted a sharp click. The Ionian laughed, tossed the gun over, and handed it butt foremost to Dane.
