"I'm not one to be taken in by kindness," she said, coldly; "that was a nice act you put on, American." He shrugged. "I might make the same accusation," he told her, "but I happen to be sensitive enough to know that your attempt at suicide was no fake. And my name is Harry Vinson." "Vinson?" she said, sitting up straight. "Vinson, the celebrated American scientist?" "Vinson," he said bitterly, "the genius--kidnapped by someone he doesn't know." "Harry Vinson," she persisted, "who is master technician in charge of the logic computer?" "According to my possible accusation," he told her grimly, "you should know. You stole the machine and its technician on the same day." "That's a lie," she blazed at him. "There are a hell of a lot of us that think so," he snapped at her. "It's a lie," she persisted. "Then who did?" he demanded. Narina shrugged. He was American; there was little point in trying to keep secret the facts of her own loss from one of the men who were most likely to know. The chances were high that Vinson had engineered this coup. "This very day," she said, "you came and stole our Logic computer--just as you claim we stole yours. Exactly the same. With a horde of small machines?" "Exactly." "And with its chief technician." "You?" "I am Narina Varada." * * * * * Vinson gulped and then started to laugh. It did him good, that laugh, for it was the first that he had in many many hours of worry and fear and frantic haste. "Narina Varada," he chuckled. "Narina Varada whom I have always believed to be a severe, frozen-faced harridan of sixty, with a caustic tongue and a complete disdain for anything less imposing than differential equations. Narina Varada, I apologize; you're beautiful." She smiled; his actions were convincingly spontaneous. "I think," she said, "that for the moment I'll believe you." "Thanks," he replied. "And since we're both involved with logic computers on somewhat the same design--since international spies have been happily swapping information--I think we can be honest and give away no secrets." "Done," she said, holding out a small hand. He shook it gently and held it longer than necessary. "Now," he said, "let's see what can be done about taking off from this old tub. I dislike being surrounded by enemies." "I've seen nothing human but you," said Narina. "Um. Now tell me; if the art of guided machinery has advanced this far, why would any country this capable need to steal our computers?" "Possibly to keep us from using them to compute the truth," she said. He shook his head. "Impossible." "Why?" Again he shook his head. "All right; I'm wrong, possibly. It is quite possible that the collection of known facts stored in the fact-indices of the machines might include sufficient information to allow the logic computer to predict which country is capable of such."