"Yes, yes. Well, well, well." Kunklin fussed with a knob, turned off his bender and switched on the translator. "I suppose, now that it's all over, we owe this fellow an explanation. Lord, man, we owe him more than that. He's one of us!" He started walking quickly toward Web. "Ho! Hey! You there!"
Web stopped, peered confusedly through bleary eyes at the incredible figures on the mountain side before him. His gun was in his hand, but he had forgotten it. He had not yet collected himself and there was an awful ringing in his head.
Kunklin and Prule surrounded him, babbling away cheerfully, set him down and gave him first aid. In an astonishingly short time he was feeling well again and the Galactics did their best to bring him up to date on what had occurred, being careful to praise his undeniable courage in the face of such odds. They admitted to using him as decoy, but told him nothing about the recording business. They saw no reason to tell this boy that he had, during the course of recent events, died twice. No telling how he would react. Although really, since he was atom for atom identical with the original Web Hilton, what difference did it make?
"—and so we finally found a Faktor with some strength of will—had to inject the man as he came aboard—then came out here and eliminated the rest of them."
Web stared dazedly around at the empty buildings.
"All gone?"
"Completely." Kunklin grinned. "We used the same device on them that they used on your people. We thought it only fitting. Quite a weapon. Used to be the most dangerous weapon in this part of the universe until we found immunity. You could wipe out whole planets without a single leaf being harmed—"
"Yes, yes," said Prule, "but the job is ended. Thank you my friend. You have been of great help. Any time you need us. Kunklin?"
"What?" said Kunklin, straightening. "You mean leave him here? Well really, Prule, that's hardly—" And then his whole face brightened. He clapped Web heavily on the back. "Why Prule, this boy's a Galactic! After all he's done for us, the least we can do is take him back with us"—Prule jumped—"to headquarters, at least, and introduce him around. Why, the boy has a heritage! You can see that from the way he held up his end. Oh yes, yes, we'll have to take him back."
Web looked up blearily, beginning to understand.