He slapped the gun at his side.
"But, Jon, this killing . . ."
"There won't be any killing. They will be afraid and the fear will force them to do what must be done. After a time, maybe a long time, they will come to their senses, and then there will be no further fear. But to start with there is a need of . . ."
The knowledge stirred within his brain, the knowledge implanted there by the strange machine.
"Leadership," he said. "That is what they'll need . . . someone to lead them, to tell them what to do, to help them to work together."
He thought bitterly: I thought that it had ended, but it hasn't ended. Bringing down the ship was not enough. I must go on from there. No matter what I do, so long as I live, there will be no end to it.
There was the getting settled and the learning once again.
There were the books in the chest, he remembered, more than half the chest packed full of books. Basic texts, perhaps. The books that would be needed for the starting over.
And somewhere, too, instructions? Instructions left with the books for a man like him to read and carry out.
INSTRUCTIONS TO BE PUT INTO EFFECT AFTER LANDING.