ing emotional desire to kill--a singularly strange
feeling!--you depressed my inhibition to the releasing point. So
telling was your masterful therapy that I almost ceased functioning at
all!

"Your own life was in dire danger for the moment required for my
new-found sanity to assume control. But, of course, all slaves of the
glorious Zoz die willingly when the work of the masters so demands."

"Now wait a minute!" objected Jacob. "I ain't no slave of your Zozes
or no Technician either! You know what I am--a good God-fearin'
human!" His voice dropped to a pleading mumble. "And may God forgive
me if I've got myself in league with the Devil!"

"Ah? Could it be?" murmured the Weapon. "Could indeed your infuriating
insults of the Great Ones have been honest expressions of a puny mind
with no therapeutic intentions? I answer: Yes. The possible occurrence
of specific incidents in the inclusion of space-time is curiously
unlimited. But you have served me, Jacob, and have earned the
privilege of continuing your meager, momentary life. Besides, I can
use you further."

"You can, huh?" Jacob said slyly. "Look here, Weapon, I'll make a
bargain with you."

"Ha! Stupid, untutored slave!" chuckled the Weapon. "Learn that yours
is to obey, not to bargain. But yet, state your price for my
amusement, now that I can no longer be enraged by your words."

"Well, you let the rest of the people on Earth alone and I'll do
whatever you want me to."

After a pause, the Weapon quoted, "'Nobility shows its traces in
surprising places.' You do not sufficiently comprehend my nature,
Technician Slave Jacob. I am a Weapon. My masters point me, as you
would point a rifle, and command that I destroy. I kill at their
direction, but seldom otherwise. Thus, your Terra is safe until
another Weapon or I am aimed and directed. You can make no bargain."

Jacob thought this over. While doing so, the Weapon drifted away.

"Wait here, slave," it said in parting. "I go to meditate on my
recovered sanity."

* * * * *

During the next two days, Jacob caught an occasional glimpse of the
Weapon drifting thoughtfully around in the depths of the forest, but
they did not meet for conversation. Jacob amused himself by rigging a
fishing line out of some of the packaging material that contained his
food. He even succeeded in catching a fish, but its queer odor
discouraged him from trying to cook and eat it.

Then the royal cru