Jacob did so and watched the colorful machine drift out of sight in
the atmosphere below the cruiser.

Minutes ticked quietly by as Jacob gazed down at the purple planet and
wondered why the Weapon had not chosen a trained Hovan pilot instead
of him. Also, he wondered how soon the Weapon would take him home to
Earth.

A great swath of the purple planet began turning black. The black
dulled to the gray shade of ashes as the swath grew longer. Over the
surface of Hova, the blackening moved like some colossal paint brush.
Dense clouds of smoke rolled upward to the high reaches of the
atmosphere.

Jacob realized why the Weapon had not selected a Hovan pilot.

When all of Hova was a lifeless ball in a fog of ash, the Weapon
returned.

"Ah, good Jacob!" it boomed jovially. "Let us be up and doing!
Thirty-six planets remain to be visited before my current assignment
is concluded!"

"Do all of them get--that?" asked Jacob, nodding toward the lifeless
world below.

"Yes. I was instructed to render this solar system lifeless before I
malfunctioned. Since then, the life of this system has spread, with my
insane aid, to infest other systems. Of course, my task must now
include all those new Hovan worlds."

"Now wait a minute!" said Jacob in terror. "I can't let you do that!"

"They are your enemies, Jacob," reminded the Weapon. "They meant to
kill every human on Terra. Also, by your own words, they are soulless
animals who live in sinful adultery. Ha! It amuses me to reason with
you, Slave Jacob!"

"Godamighty, forgive me!" prayed Jacob, in horrified defeat.

* * * * *

The Weapon seemed to know how to find the Hovan planets from the
markings of the cruiser's star charts. Jacob could not read the charts
and saw no hope of getting back to earth and Suzy and the kids without
the Weapon's help. Dully, he went about the tasks the Weapon ordered
him to do.

Several weeks passed as one world after another was left a smoking
ruin.

Finally the job was done.

"_Now_, can I go home?" begged Jacob.

"To Terra? No, Slave. I still need a pilot."

"But if you take me home," Jacob continued desperately, "you can get a
better pilot than me. I'm just a dirt farmer. There's all kinds of
airplane pilots on Earth, youngsters without families who would give
their right arms to fly this thing, I bet!"

"Ah?" The Weapon considered. "A willing slave is, of course, always
desirable. On the other han