‘I heard you,’ said Marcus, and reached down, hauling Abel to his knees, where he wobbled, dazed, shaking his head. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. He glanced up and saw Marcus standing above him, and screamed—a sound of pure fear. His eyes were wide open and bulging, his face frozen in a mask of terror. Marcus reached out and placed one hand on either side of the man’s head. Albert, realizing what was about to happen, opened his mouth to shout, but nothing came out.

It was so silent in the tent one could have heard a feather land. Everyone’s eyes were on one man, transfixed by horror at what was about to happen. Albert later remembered that not once did anyone ask him not to do it. Perhaps they all knew it was futile. Or, at least, he chose to think so. He didn’t like to think of what it said about him if that were not true. Abel moaned again—a short, eloquent whimper.

‘Do not be afraid. This will not hurt,’ said Marcus softly.

Then he took a deep breath and grabbing Abel by the front of his shirt, hauled the man to his feet. Abel stared at him, his face a white mask of terror, mouth moving frantically. Marcus looked at him for a moment. Then, almost before anyone realized what was happening, he flicked the man sideways into the Pit. They heard a loud yell, followed by a splash, followed by a still louder yell, this time of fear and revulsion.

‘Perhaps his death was unnecessary,’ said Marcus, very softly. ‘Easier, but unnecessary.’ He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Albert looked into the Pit in horror. ‘He’ll die!’

‘Perhaps. I think not. His friends will be here soon. Until then, there is a body for him to sit on. It still has much air in it.’

He turned, walking back towards the spot where he had been studying the wall.

‘Look, there’s no way out,’ repeated Colby.

‘No?’ said Marcus, still eyeing the rock face.

‘You can’t climb that, man! The rock’s too smooth.’

‘Then perhaps I shall not climb,’ replied Marcus, turning around and walking towards the wall.

‘You’re not leaving! We won’t let you!’

‘How will you stop me? I have the only weapon here, and I do not even need it.’ There was no arrogance or indeed emotion of any sort in his voice as he said it, as if he was stating a fact—which perhaps he was.

‘Wait!’ shouted Albert.

Marcus kept walking.

‘You’re just going to leave us here?’

Marcus turned, looking at him, eyebrow raised, as if surprised he would ask. ‘Yes.’ He turned around, then turned back to look at Albert again. He held up the blaster. ‘Do you want this?’ he said.