Stroke of Genius by RANDALL GARRETT Illustrated by PHILLIPS _Crayley plotted a murder that was scientific in both motive and method--and as perfect as the mask of his face!_ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Infinity Science Fiction, August 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Crayley stood thoughtfully before the huge screen and watched the fingers move. Metal fingers, five on each hand; each hand attached to an arm, and each pair of arms connected to a silvery sphere that sat atop a four-foot pillar. Within the pillar, micro-relays ticked and chuckled, sending delicately measured surges of power here and there through silver nerves to metal muscles. Responding, the hands built an energy generator. And when they finished, they built another. And another. On and on, monotonously. Crayley rubbed absently at his mustache and plotted murder. "--be a great deal cheaper, Mr. Crayley?" Crayley realized he hadn't been listening to what the man beside him was saying. He turned his head to look at the Space Force officer and said quietly, "I'm sorry, major; I didn't quite get you." "I said that it seems to me that ordinary production machinery would be a great deal cheaper. Why do they use those waldoes?" Crayley smiled faintly. "Why do you use waldoes to repair a generator on a ship?" The major looked at Crayley to see if he was kidding, then said, "A man can't live five seconds near an unshielded generator, and you have to take the shielding off to get at the innards. But I don't see how that applies. Each repair job is different. I'll admit that I'm not a drive engineer--I wouldn't know the first thing about repairing one--but I do know that the engineer has to use remote control hands because the work is so delicate. "But this--" He waved a hand at the screen. "--is recorded. It's routine. Why spend all the money on those tape-controlled robots when much simpler machines can be made to do the job?" _I wonder_, Crayley thought to himself, _if this blockhead knows which end of his ship to point up when he's taking off?_ "Two reasons, Major. In the first place, building a sub-nucleonic converter is also a delicate job--as delicate as repairing it. In the second place, we have something here that will save money in the long run. Do you know what re-tooling would cost in this business if we used ordinary bit-by-bit production line methods?" The major spread his hands. "I have no idea."