Frawley constructed the same excuse for a salute, turned smartly and marched away. Starbuck developed a definite suspicion that there were currents of tension aboard which he didn't understand. * * * * * "This is the brain," the captain said, with a gesture. The brain was less than awe-inspiring. The mustard-seed cryotron relays were comfortably housed in a steel and aluminum hide no roomier than a pair of Earthside bureaus. It looked a bit like a home clothing processor to Starbuck. Birdsel crossed to the machine and ran a hand along its metal side. "Magnificent, isn't it, Ben? I've never seen anything like it before in my long career in the Space Service." "It's certainly nice," Starbuck ventured. Metallic chattering burst out. "It's saying something, Ben! This is the first time it's talked since the second day after it was installed!" The message was clearly legible, spelled out in a pattern of dots on a central screen. WHO IS THE NEW ONE? "Give it the information," the captain said hastily. "We feed it all the information it asks for." "How?" Starbuck blurted. "Is there a keyboard or something?" "Yes, yes, but it has audio scanners. Just talk. Or move your lips. Send signals. Tap out Morse. Anything." "I'm Benjamin Starbuck," he said. The screen rearranged. MEANINGLESS COMMUNICATION. INSUFFICIENT DATA. "Quick," Birdsel said, "do you have your IDQ file on you?" Starbuck fished in his pocket for the microfilm slide. "Yes--aye, aye, sir. I had it ready to give to you, sir." "Never mind me. Give it to the brain!" Starbuck approached the machine, saw a likely looking slot and shoved. The brain ruminated with some theatrical racket. INSUFFICIENT DATA. "What do you want to know?" Starbuck swallowed, saying. MANY THINGS. "Remember I'm a human being," he said respectfully. "I have to eat and sleep. I can't answer questions for two or three days straight." I AM AWARE OF HUMAN LIMITATIONS, AND THEIR EFFECTS, SWABBER STARBUCK. "Sorry." Captain Birdsel looked vaguely distressed. "You should try to co-operate with the brain, my boy." "I have nothing against cybernetic calculators," Ben said. "After all, we aren't still in the Ellisonian Age. But I'd like to, uh, stow my spacebag and get settled, sir." NO FURTHER QUESTIONS AT THIS TIME. RETURN HERE AT THIS TIME TOMORROW. "He's interested in you, Ben," the captain said enthusiastically. "This is the first time he's asked about anybody since the second day. Yes, interested!" With an excess of enthusiasm, Captain Birdsel clapped his hands, then put them flat on the deck and stood on his head, kicking his heels in the air. He straightened up with a scarlet face. "Ah. That really gets the kinks out of you, Ben." Starbuck tried not to stare. "Aye, sir." The captain took a step and grabbed the small of his back. "Haven't done it in some time, though. Ought to do it more often, eh, Ben?" "I suppose so, sir."