o do with civilization. That five years has made him love
space, love isolation. So, they are willing to take these jobs, to be
put out to pasture on wayward planets until they die at thirty-five." It
was said with all the bitterness of a condemned man.

"What use would I have of your offers, even if they were true. When I
finish, or rather, if I had finished my stay on Kligor, I'd only have a
few months till I die. Your pleasant little cries of adventure, luxury,
women, meant nothing.

"I just wanted to be alone to die."

Now it was the enemy agent's turn to speak bitterly. "Then you planned
it all along. You led our men on, pretending you were going to aid us
while you were in our midst learning everything about us to destroy us.

"You finally found the method, God knows where you dug up that fiendish
idea of sulphuric gas, but you planned and watched. I'll never know how
you were so lucky--and it was pure luck, but you did it. You destroyed
our base."

With a smile, "Yes, I was lucky, I had a chance to end my life in a
final battle and victory. That's all a man can ask for."

Aron was still smiling when the blast of the Intelligence man's gun blew
his head off.

As he left the station, all the agent could think of was one phrase he
had heard many times jokingly; but now it became a grim accompaniment
for his footsteps. Though he didn't want to hear it, it kept whispering
through his mind every few seconds.

"Live fast, fight hard, die young--and have a radiation-rotted corpse."

Two hours later the United Empire fleet landed on Kligor. They came to
claim the sixty ships lying waiting--waiting--in the peaceful valley
that was still tainted with the smell of chlorine.

End of Project Gutenberg's For Every Man A Reason, by Patrick Wilkins

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