North? he thought. Hot Rod's pull on a taut cable would be to the south. No. Lab One could be re-oriented to trail the thrusting balloon. But the lab's servos should have prevented that re-orientation unless the thrust were really heavy. "What is our velocity?" he asked. Temporarily he was baffled by the placid Cow's literal translation of his request as one for any actual velocity, since she had replied with a figure very close to their original orbital speed. "What is our velocity at right angles to original course?" he inquired. And the Cow's reply came: "Two-o-o hundred and fifty-seven point seven six ce-entimeters per se-econd." That should be about right for six hundred forty pounds of thrust for, say, six and a half hours; and the distance of the orbit shift was about right. But the direction? "Is Hot Rod pulling us north?" he asked. "No-o-o," came the placid reply. "If it's pulling us south, then why--" He stopped himself. Any "why" required inductive reasoning, and of that the Cow was not capable. Instead of asking why they were moving north with a south thrust, Mike broke his question into parts. He'd have to answer the "why" himself, he knew. "Is Hot Rod pulling us south?" he asked. "No-o-oo," came the answer. This time he was more careful. "In which direction is the thrust on Hot Rod oriented?" he asked. "No-oorth." "Then Hot Rod is--" Quickly he stopped and rephrased the statement which would have had a question in its tone but not its semantics, into a question that would read semantically. "Is Hot Rod pulling us north?" "No-o-oo," came the reply. Carefully. "Is Hot Rod pulling us?" "No-o-oo." Mike was stumped. Then he figured a literalness in his phrasing. "Is Hot Rod pushing or in any other way giving motion to Space Lab One?" he asked. "No-o-oo," came the answer. Now Mike _was_ stumped. "Is Space Lab One under acceleration?" he asked. "Ye-es," said the Cow. "Then where in hell is that acceleration coming from?" Mike was exasperated. "We a-are uunder no-o-o acceleration fro-om he-ell," the literal mind told him. * * * * * Mike laughed ruefully. No acceleration from hell--well, that was debatable. But no thrust from the hellmaker was not a debatable point. The Cow wasn't likely to be wrong, though her appalling literalness was such that an improperly phrased question might make her seem to be. Computers, he thought, would eventually be the salvation of the human race, whetting their inventors' brains to higher and higher efforts towards the understanding of communications. Very carefully now he rephrased his question. "From what, and from what point is the acceleration of Space Lab One originating?"