At these words a tall Martian unfolded himself from the back seat of the jeep. He climbed out and bowed before Captain Barnaby. "I am Rhinklav'n, Captain." The thick fur nose-flaps, looking like ear-muffs pulled across his muzzle, muffled Rhinklav'n's high-pitched voice so that it gave the effect of coming from the bottom of a rain barrel. "You are to accompany me to Klamugra to be judged by the Machine, of which I am the Honored First Technician." Barnaby and Kim bowed slightly to acknowledge Rhinklav'n, then crawled into the back seat of the jeep, next to Colonel Montgomery. Rhinklav'n and the sergeant sat up front. The sergeant pushed a button on the instrument panel, and the plastic top of the jeep dropped down to cover them. As the engine started, the jeep's air-pump drew in air until the atmosphere was thick enough for human lungs. The Martian squirmed uncomfortably in the heavy air while his human companions threw off their helmets. Lieutenant Kim gratefully drew a deep breath of air, and regretted it immediately. What with the million-year water shortage the Martians had lost even the word for bath. Besides, the most popular article of Martian cuisine is a bulb strikingly similar to the terrestrial garlic plant. Captain Barnaby turned to Kim. "Mars has a distinguished atmosphere, hasn't it?" He spoke in English, rather than in the Esperanto lingua-franca of space. "Indeed it has," Kim agreed. "What was old fuzz-face up there talking about when he spoke of 'the Machine,' Colonel?" "The law of Mars is the most rigidly systematized in the solar system," Colonel Montgomery replied. "Several millions of years ago, a bright Martie got the idea that it was unwise to trust mortal judges with a problem so important as the sentencing of criminals. So he called in a lot of mechanics--ancient Mars had some pretty fair engineers, though they never discovered electricity--and had them build a judging-machine. Since the climate is right and the machine was built of a stainless steel, it's still here and still being used. It's an enormous thing; spreads over half-an-acre in a big amphitheatre in the center of town. It's an analogue computer, rather clumsy by terrestrial standards, but nevertheless well-built. You know the principles of analogue calculators. Instead of working with coded, position-valued impulses, like the electronic astrogator on our rockets, the mechanical machines solve problems by making use of the physical analogies between cogs and gears and differentials." "Do you mean that we're going to be punished or set free by a bunch of clockwork, colonel?" Kim asked.