"You'll be sicker." Trehearne got him by the hair of the head, standing
carefully and watching for any sudden move, and dragged him half erect.
"Sit up and talk like a man. Why did you undo all your good work? You
could have let me die right there."
Yann shook his head. "You were blundering straight into the others.
Somebody was going to save you, and I figured it might as well be me.
If you had any suspicions you'd switch them to someone else. Make it
easier next time." His mouth twisted into a parody of a grin. "It did."
Trehearne said, "You're a hell of a nice guy." His hand moved and
light flickered on the crystal knife. Yann's eyes were drawn to it.
"This wasn't my idea," he said. "I was only doing a job. You don't have
to kill me." He put an emphasis on the pronoun.
"I don't have to. It's whether I want to or not. Whose idea was it,
Yann?"
"He was going to give me a ship," Yann muttered. "A ship of my own. Any
man would do it for a price like that. You'd do it yourself, Trehearne.
That's just common sense."