"Certainly you did not refute the logic of his argument? We are in the right. Our case is just. The galaxies must be protected from--" "The right levers, Jack." "--from those who through ignorance, stupidity, or ferocity would destroy it." "One more minute of this and there'll be dead people aboard this ship." "You're helpless, really. You can't fly this ship without me. Therefore my life is safe. I merely refuse to launch it." "Would you like a dead wife?" Orin whitened perceptibly. "She may be a wife to you, but to me she's just a doll who helped lie a man into the chair." "You wouldn't do it! You haven't got the nerve to shoot down a man or a woman in cold blood." Kirk looked steadily into Orin's eyes. "You don't believe that do you, bud?" Orin held the gaze for a long time. Then he dropped his eyes. "No. I don't believe it." "Then get to work." "One last offer. Won't you reconsider. Join us?" "No!" "Very well." And Orin, a fixed, taut look on his face, reached forth his hand and touched a button on the panel board. It was a very special button. A button for use only when all hope was gone. The exploding space-time ship lighted the countryside to blinding brilliance. * * * * * A.P. Jan 21st--Shortly after midnight today, Paul Cordell, convicted killer in the famous "woman from Mars" case, was put to death in the electric chair at the state penitentiary. End of Project Gutenberg's Twelve Times Zero, by Howard Carleton Browne