 Ben runs from the crime scene, but isn't remorseful for doing so. Why is that, even though he killed a man?
With never a moment to rest, the pursuit through space felt like a game of hounds and hares ... or was it follow the leader? Ben Curtis eased his pale, gaunt body through the open doorway of the Blast Inn, the dead man following silently behind him. For an instant, Ben's mind rose above the haunting vision of the dead man. Again, its face would be a pop-eyed mask of surprise as Ben's fist thudded into its jaw. You can defeat him or submit to him or ignore him, and the matter is over and done. It had begun a week ago in Luna City. Ben, quietly and moderately, wanted to celebrate. He was three months out of the Academy at White Sands and the shining uniform was like a key to all the mysteries of the Universe. At sixteen, he'd spent every weekend holiday hitchhiking from Boys Town No. 5 in the Catskills to Long Island Spaceport. There, among the grizzled veterans of the old Moon Patrol, he'd found friends who understood his dream and who later recommended his appointment to the U. S. Academy for the Conquest of Space. And a month ago, he'd signed aboard the Odyssey —the first ship, it was rumored, equipped to venture as far as the asteroids and perhaps beyond. Ben rose and started to leave the bar, but Cobb grabbed his arm and held him there. Until this instant, Ben had suppressed his anger. Now, suddenly and without warning, it welled up into savage fury.
 Running gave him autonomy, and to decide how the next part of his life would pan out.
 It gave him enough time to remember the renegades, and make the plan to go meet them.  He felt he was justified in killing Cobb.  Running away game him opportunity to reflect.  Running gave him autonomy, and to decide how the next part of his life would pan out.