"I should say so. Fortune...." But Fortune was already leaving the room on his errand. Thompson snapped open the intercom system. "Grant?" "Yes, what is it?" "We've found the cause and we've got the disease licked." Grant's voice a shout coming back from the control room. "Thank God. I've been sitting here watching Sol grow bigger and bigger...." His voice suddenly choked, went into silence, then came again, asking a question. "Is it all right to change course now?" "Definitely it's all right," Thompson answered. "In fact, it's an order." An instant later, the ship groaned as the direction of flight was shifted. Thompson took a deep breath, was aware that Neff was staring at him. "What was that he said about watching Sol grow bigger and bigger? Say, what course were we on?" "Collision course with the sun," Thompson answered. "What?" Neff gasped. "Do you mean to say that you were going to throw the ship into the sun?" Slowly Thompson nodded. "I didn't know whether we would be alive or not but I didn't want this ship to enter Sol Cluster and turn loose there the virus that had already depopulated a planet." He spoke slowly, with the sure knowledge of a desperate danger safely passed. Neff stared at him from round and frightened eyes. On the desk top Buster gave up his vigil, meowed, and jumped into the captain's lap. With the thick gloves of his space suit clad hands, Thompson fondly stroked him. Buster arched his back in grateful appreciation and began to purr.