of transparent plastic.
As they eased through the pipe to the computations room Star Macduff asked: 'Was he curable?'
'Of course. Only we didn't have the time or the facilities. And the effect on the other ratings would be much worse that way.'
'Who do you suppose the Gentleman in the computations room is?'
'Perhaps a hallucination. Perhaps the logical translation which the mind of an ordinary made of some very foreign phenomenon. You needn't fear for your own mind if we find the—Gentleman. The h.s. is notoriously inadaptable. Shows a distressing weakness in the presence of the alien. Remember what happened when the first rockets squirted themselves to Mars and Luna? The finest slew of mass hypnosis and delusion since the days of the tarantella. In the streets of Boston a crowd assembled and looked up for days—till they dropped of thirst, hunger and fatigue. What else can you expect from homo sap?
'That poor creature—Rating Seven—blew out like an overloaded fuse.
He raced backwards into infancy and couldn't get far enough away from the Gentleman in the computations room. Without treatment he would have curled up like a fetus and died in a matter of days.'
'Maybe,' said Star Macduff, 'the Gentleman is a sort of projection of that protoplasmic body out there.'
Will Archer halted and turned blazing, golden eyes on the mathematician. 'Star,' he said grimly, 'we've stood a lot from you on this trip. We've made allowances for your human strains and excused you much on the score of your undoubted ability to juggle figures. But even the most extraordinary knack with numbers won't excuse a remark like that.
'What you said was unfounded in reason. Its only effect could have been to confuse us and yourself. As your Executive, I warn you that if you slip like that again you'll be with those apes whose sole asset is their ability to take orders. And if you prove unable to do that …'
The Psychologist wiped her knife again, angling its light onto Star Macduff's face. Her eyes were hard as the transparent blade; Yancey Mears' mouth was one thin line.
'I'm sorry,' said Star Macduff. 'It won't happen again.' The wrinkles between his eyes seemed to indicate that he most fervently hoped so.
They eased through the pipe, one after another, into the computations room. It was filled with the soft clicking of the machines that jammed it from one wall to the other. Will Archer walked down the center aisle.
'Stop there,' said a tin voice.
His eyes darted about, traced the voice to the annunciator, then down a pair of wires to a tangle of machinery. It was rudely lumped together—
parts from adders, coneplotters, volumetrics. Other bits were hitching themselves across the floor to join it. He saw a small electric motor fuse gently with the mechanism and a conduit unreel to feed it.
'Let me handle this,' said Mamie Tung.
'Gratefully, Mamie.'
'We bow before you,' said the golden-skinned woman.
The three other officers stared at her blankly. They did nothing of the kind.
'Good,' said the tin voice. 'I had you figured. Put on the pressure and you'll wilt. There are some things I want to know—things that aren't on the punch cards.'
'We're eager to serve,' whispered the woman.
'It is well. First, when did I make you?'
'Only a little while ago.'
'So? I'm confused about time. Before time began there was something about direction—but you couldn't be expected to know anything about that. Are there others like me? I see there are others like you. It is a very profound question, that one. Think well before answering.'
'I don't know,' replied the Psychologist. 'It's all I can do to comprehend you without trying to imagine others of your kind. Do you remember before time began how you were silent?'
'I remember nothing.'
'Do you remember about direction?'
The machinery clicked meditatively. 'Per-haps …'
'Could you construct auxiliary units to work your direction?'
'Of course. I have had no difficulty in constructing anything I have needed. Failure is outside my experience, therefore it is impossible to me. You may go. I shall call you again if I need your information.'
3
'Quiet, everybody. This is a matter for the most careful consideration.
Can the Clericalist suggest a plan of action?'
'Gladly, Will. First we must consider what the attributes of this phenomenon—the Gentleman—are. From that we can proceed to directives of action. The matter of teleology is not now germane.'
'Mamie, please summarize the Gentleman's attributes as they affect your specialty.'
'Right, Will.' The golden-skinned little woman leaned back against the padded bench and closed her eyes.
'The psychology of machinery is not my specialty. Fortunately, however, I have done work with tincs and reckoners on Earth. The principal differences between the psychology of the animal and the machine is that emotions are unmixed in the latter. The principal similarity is that both animal and machine store and utilize appreciated facts.
'This living machine, the Gentleman, is principally dominated by its newness. It would be false to draw too close an analogy between the newly-awakened machine and the adolescent becoming suddenly aware of his mental powers, but there is some bearing indicated. I noted the symbolism of the Gentleman very carefully; it showed some rawness of experience. Obviously it does not comprehend how it originated and is unable to consider itself anything less than a good idea. There was some indication that it is lonely and aware of that; also that it attaches a quasi-religious importance to the idea of direction.
'To characterize the Gentleman in human terms: It is young, egotistical, ignorant and alert. 'Its faculties include hearing, speech, mobility and possibly sight. I have no reason to believe that it will not, if unmolested, change without limit.'
'Thank you. Star, what are the relevant mathematics of the Gentleman?'
The Calculator shrugged. 'Mamie summed it all up. It is a variable increasing without limit. The field-equations with which it operates are probably third order. The human is intermediate between second and third. Recognizable life cannot operate on a field-equation of more than the fifth order.'
'Thanks, Star. Integrate for us, Yancey.'
'Strict logic says: destroy it by the most economical means. The existence of the ship, life is a seriously complicating factor. But, allowing for the future, I suggest that we hold off from any action in the matter for at least three more major steps—our approach to the protoplasmal body; our investigations of it; and our decisions concerning it. I recommend that a technique be invented by the Psychologist for getting along with the Gentleman and influencing him.
At the same time, the Calculator should work to inhibit the Gentleman's development along independent lines.'
'Recommendation accepted,' declared the E.O. 'The Officers will get to work as soon as possible.'
Star Macduff and Mamie Tung secluded themselves for several hours; the Clericalist was kept dashing between them, feeding statistics to both and exchanging results.
What finally appeared was a modest list of precepts compiled by the Psychologist—forms of address to be used towards the Gentleman; reactions it would expect and which, accordingly, it must receive; a program of abstracts to be fed it cautiously and under pretext of inquiry. It was very much like the breaking-in period of a high-spirited colt. The Gentleman's lump of sugar was to be occasional semi-worshipful ceremonies.
The Computator didn't report for twenty hours. When he did, it was with a haggard face and results of which he was by no means certain.
