"You _say_ that, but you don't really believe it. The old morality is too deeply ingrained. That's why cybernetics have so long been out of fashion. This one is new to us on the _Gorgon_. But we like _new_ things. We're for _progress_. All spacemen are like that, son." "Have you had this machine long?" Starbuck asked his progressive officer. "They installed it on the trip in. We've never really had a chance to use it." "What's it supposed to do?" "You know our job is exploration, finding new worlds," Sam explained. "Not just any world the human race hasn't landed upon, but a world that is a significantly different type than we've ever touched before. We're really the advance guard of humanity, you see. Well, the brain is programmed with information on _all_ the worlds Man has explored. It compares a prospective landing site with what it knows about all the rest, and rejects all but the really different, unique planets. It loves the unknown. Its pleasure circuits get a real jolt out of finding an unknown quantity." "That brain is really inhuman," Starbuck said. "A basic factor of human psychology is that all men fear and dislike the unknown." Sam rubbed his chin. "I suppose so, but--you asked about the captain. This is him." * * * * * A tall, iron-haired man was coming down the corridor. He was holding the ankle of his right foot in his hand, and hopping along on his left leg, whistling some little sing-song through his teeth. He stopped whistling when he saw them and said, "Good afternoon, men." Frawley framed a sloppy salute. "'Afternoon, sir. May I present the new man, Swabber Ben Starbuck, sir." The captain stood on both feet and rocked back and forth. "I see, I see. New man, eh? We see so few new faces, cooped up on this old ship with the same men, you know. We appreciate a stranger, Starbuck. If you ever need help, Ben, I want you to look upon me not as your commanding officer, but, well, a father. Will you do that?" "Yes, sir," Ben murmured, feeling a little giddy. Frawley cleared his throat. "I was about to show young Ben the brain, Captain Birdsel." "Good idea," the commanding officer said. "But I'll show Ben around myself, Lieutenant Frawley. You may return to checking the manifest." Frawley glowered. "One of these days, one of these days...." The captain snapped very erect. "One of these days _what_?" The junior officer shrugged. "One of these days, there may be a dark night, Captain." The iron-haired man reached out a manicured hand and twisted Frawley's tunic at the collar. He brought his face level with the second-in-command. "One of these times, there may be charges of mutiny, Lieutenant. And guess who will play Jack Ketch personally?" Frawley assumed an at-attention pose, and blinked. "Aye, sir. There may be a mutiny and somebody may get hung." Birdsel shoved Frawley away from him and wiped his hand elaborately down his side. "That will be all, Mister Frawley."