I nodded. Viking Spacecraft built some of the biggest and best spacecraft in the System. It held most of Ceres--all of it, in fact, except the Government Reservation. It had moved out to the asteroids a long time back, after the big mining concerns began cutting up the smaller asteroids for metal. The raw materials are easier to come by out here than they are on Earth, and it's a devil of a lot easier to build spacecraft under low-gee conditions than it is under the pull of Earth or Luna or Mars. "Do you know anything about the experimental robotic ships being built on Eros?" Ravenhurst asked. "Not much," I admitted. "I've heard about them, but I don't know any of the details." That wasn't quite true, but I've found it doesn't pay to tell everybody everything you know. "The engineering details aren't necessary," Ravenhurst said. "Besides, I don't know them, myself. The point is that Viking is trying to build a ship that will be as easy to operate as a flitterboat--a one-man cargo vessel. Perhaps even a completely automatic job for cargo, and just use a one-man crew for the passenger vessels. Imagine how that would cut the cost of transportation in the Solar System! Imagine how it would open up high-speed cargo transfer if an automatic vessel could accelerate at twenty or twenty-five gees to turnover!" I'll give Ravenhurst this: He had a light in his eyes that showed a real excitement about the prospect he was discussing, and it wasn't due entirely to the money he might make. "Sounds fine," I said. "What seems to be the trouble?" His face darkened half a shade. "The company police suspect sabotage, Mr. Oak." "How? What kind?" [Illustration] "They don't know. Viking has built six ships of that type--the McGuire class, the engineers call it. Each one has been slightly different than the one before, of course, as they ironed out the bugs in their operation. But each one has been a failure. Not one of them would pass the test for space-worthiness." "Not a failure of the drive or the ordinary mechanisms of the ship, I take it?" Ravenhurst sniffed. "Of course not. The brain. The ships became, as you might say, _non compos mentis_. As a matter of fact, when the last one simply tried to burrow into the surface of Eros by reversing its drive, one of the roboticists said that a coroner's jury would have returned a verdict of 'suicide while of unsound mind' if there were inquests held for spaceships." "That doesn't make much sense," I said. "No. It doesn't. It isn't sensible. Those ships' brains shouldn't have behaved that way. Robot brains don't go mad unless they're given instructions to do so--conflicting orders, erroneous information, that sort of thing. Or, unless they have actual physical defects in the brains themselves." "The brains can handle the job of flying a ship all right, though?" I asked. "I mean, they have the capacity for it?"