There was a long pause. Only the persistent knocking of the giant helicopter's sonar reached the Murderer's ear. When the commander spoke again, it was as if murder had been done. "Do they know?" "The other one looked back. Sure they know. They know." "Then they may consider we're the ones who've taken aggressive action," the commander said slowly. "We'll have to wait. If we move off, their commanding officers on the spot may feel committed to local retaliatory action. We'll have to wait while they're radioing for instructions. We'll have to hope their side will decide to take this before an international court." "Court? What sort of court? A murder court?" "Let's hope it's only one murder," the commander's voice came through distantly, "and not one hundred million. We'll have to sit it out." As decompression began, the Murderer sank down beside Barney's body in the water-filled chamber. Superimposed upon the commander's two little kids, swinging on their swings, he saw the surprised face of the diver--and even the little fish, lost from its school, and its wondrous eye--two billion years of evolution waiting for a verdict of life or death. End of Project Gutenberg's Murder Beneath the Polar Ice, by Hayden Howard