"Come, Slave Jacob," commanded the Weapon. "We take this cruiser."
Dazed and slack-faced, Jacob came out from behind a bush, where he had hidden himself from the Hovans, and followed the Weapon through the airlock.
"Even in my insanity, I planned well," said the Weapon. "These ships, which I taught the Hovans to construct, can be operated simply, even by such as you. Attend my instructions."
First, the Weapon taught Jacob to open and close the airlock. Then he was shown how to fuel the engines, upon which the Weapon made some changes to improve their performance. Finally, in the control room, Jacob learned to fly the ship.
This took several hours, at the end of which time Jacob had succeeded in raising the cruiser into a satellite orbit around Hova.
"Do you comprehend, Slave?" asked the Weapon.
"Sure. This thing ain't nothin' to run compared to a T-model Ford! Which way is it to Earth?"
"That I shall not tell you, Jacob, because I must leave the ship for a few hours and desire to find you here when I return. Consider and tell me: Will you be here?"
Jacob gazed at the broad, star-spangled viewplate that curved around his seat at the controls. There was, he reflected an awful lot of nothing out there for a man to get lost in.