"Earl, I-" She coughed and sprayed his face with blood. "You win, you bastard," she whispered. "You win. You lucky-"
Luck which had ruined the generator of the Cyclan vessel and delayed it long enough for him to escape. Which had led him to say just enough while in delirium for the woman to have seared her flesh in a desperate effort to save his life. Which had caused Navalok to create the distraction which had given him the opportunity to kill.
Now he watched, wide-eyed, as Dumarest gently laid the dead woman on the ground.
"She was beautiful," he said softly. "And she loved you."
Dumarest closed the staring, now empty green eyes.
"Earl?"
"Take me to town, boy. Just take me to town."
To the ship which was waiting. To the suns and stars of the galaxy. To the worlds which teemed in the empty spaces, where it was possible to forget.