"Gosh!" His eyes settled on the pile of ashes, the remains of Norden. He turned to Taylor. "Are you all right, Cap?"
Taylor nodded.
"Where's the sphere?" asked Masters.
"He died of frustration—or sorrow—over having killed the wrong man," Taylor said grimly. Taylor indicated the half-formed monster in the pot. "Now we've got to get rid of that one and all the unhatched spores."
"If that metal pot hatches 'em, we will," said Masters. "We'll dump the metal."
The undeveloped sphere made no move to launch a deadly bolt toward the men. Apparently at this stage of incubation the spheres were harmless.
"Pember!"
"Yes, sir!" the soldier appeared in the doorway, carrying his bayonetted gun.
"Keep a lookout for other spheres. Masters and I are going to dump this metal pot."
"Yes, sir!"