Let Space Be Your Coffin By S. M. Tenneshaw Bert hated Miles, and secretly plotted to kill him. It all seemed simple, yet murder can be complicated--especially in the void!... [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy November 1954 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Bert thought savagely, _I'm going to kill you, Miles Berendt. You've always lorded it over me--thought you were something extra special when we were kids. Now you've practically taken over the business I helped build. My business--the best damned space freight line in the system! And you've got your eyes on Carol--my girl! Well, look smug, Miles. This is your last day alive--tomorrow they won't even find your atoms!_ "Something eating you, Bert?" Miles Berendt closed the tally book and shoved it aside on the desk. He eased his six-foot frame back in the chair behind the desk and stared quizzically at Bert Tanner. Tanner was standing by the window, staring moodily out toward the long line of space hangars. Tanner twisted abruptly, stared at Berendt, and laughed shortly. "What? Not a thing, Miles. Not a thing...." Berendt sighed. "I'm glad. With business as good as it is, and that new contract with Deimos Mines almost in our laps we've got reason to celebrate. I thought maybe you, Carol and I could sort of relax with a few drinks at my place tonight--" "Carol?" Bert bit her name out sharply. Too sharply. He forced the edge from his voice and glanced uneasily away from Berendt to stare out the window until he could get his emotions under control. _Don't let him suspect--not now...._ Out of the corner of his eye he saw Miles get up from behind the desk and walk slowly over toward him. Berendt had his hands in his pants pockets. "You sure nothing's bothering you, Bert?" Tanner started to turn from the window. But his gaze was caught by a trim figure coming into view across the smooth concrete expanse separating the office building from the repair hangar. It was a girl. A blonde girl. A dream of a figure in form-fitting plasti-silk. It was Carol. She was coming toward the office building, a file of papers under one arm. "Bert. I asked you a question." Tanner pulled his eyes away from the window. As he did so Miles glanced past him. A smile pulled at his thin, firm lips as he saw Carol approaching the building. The sun was going down in the west, and she was framed in a golden-red halo with the tapering, glinting metallic tips of two space ships, the _Viking_ and _Space Queen II_ in their ground cradles for a backdrop. To Miles it was a beautiful picture. The smile on his lips widened. Tanner saw the smile and his own swarthy features grew dark. "You trying to needle me, Miles?" his voice was edgy, almost harsh.