“For once you’re wrong, Darrien,” Archman said. He sucked in his breath and fired.
A half-inch to the right and his bolt would have killed Elissa Hall. But Archman’s aim was true. Darrien screamed harshly. Archman fired again, and the tyrant fell.
He found himself quivering all over from the strain and tension of the last few moments. He looked around at the grisly interior of the room. There lay Hendrin, the shrewd Mercurian, who had played one side too many and would never live to collect his pay from Krodrang. There, Meryola, whose beauty had faded. There, the Darrien-robot. And there, Darrien himself, his foul career cut short at last.
“It’s over,” he said tiredly. He looked at Elissa Hall, whose lovely face was pale with fear. “It’s all over. Darrien’s dead, and the mop-up can begin.”
“Your aim was good, Archman. But you could have fired at Darrien before. My life doesn’t matter, does it?”
His eyes met hers. “It does—but you won’t believe that, will you? You think I’m just a killer. All right. That’s all I am. Let’s get out of here.”
“No—wait.” Suddenly she was clinging to him. “I—I’ve been cruel to you, Archman—but I saw just then that I was wrong. You’re not just the murderer I thought you were. You—you were doing your job, that’s all.”
He pulled her close, and smiled. He was thinking of Intelligence Chief Wentworth, back on Earth. Wentworth had rated Archman’s capabilities at 97.003%. But Wentworth had been wrong.
Archman had done the job. That was 100% efficiency. But he had Elissa now, too. Score another 100%. He gently drew her lips to his, knowing now that this mission had been successful beyond all expectations.