Mike shook himself like a dog coming out of water. "Oh, well," he said. "Anyway, we've got a space drive--flea sized. Now the question before the board becomes, just what are we going to do with it? Turn it over to the captain?" "Confusion say," said Ishie, "he who has very little is often most generous. But he who has huge fortune is very cautious about dispersing it. Let's first be sure what we've got," he grinned slyly at Mike, "before we become overgenerous with information." Mike heaved a huge sigh of relief. He had been afraid he would have to argue Ishie into this point of view. "Speaking of math, Mike, you're no slouch at it yourself, if you figured out all those orbit co-ordinates in your head, and arrived at an exact figure on the amount of thrust. It would be very nice for our future investigations if we had some method of putting the Cow to work on this." The little physicist sat back, grinned knowingly, and continued: "Where's your secret panel, Mike? We've got to keep this information from going to anybody else." [Illustration] "Oh, I already--" Mike stopped. "I mean," he floundered, "uh ... how did you know?" A foolish grin spread over his face. "It's right behind you," he said. "And I've got it by voice," he said. "Just push the switch in the corner and talk to it." * * * * * Ishie turned, glanced at the panel, and went over to the switch, pushing it. "I wondered how you were concealing the teletype," he said. "You mean you really talk to it?" The Sacred Cow's voice came back. "Reference not understoo-od. Ple-ease explai-ain." "Oy!" said Ishie. "It even sounds like a cow!" "Ye-es, si-ir," said the Cow. "A cow is an he-erbivorous ma-ammal, usua-ally do-omesticated, and fou-ound in mo-ost of the cou-ountries of Ea-arth. Wha-at specific da-ata did you-u wi-ish? The mi-ilk su-upply--" "Hold it," Mike said, forestalling a long dissertation on the dairy industry. Catching on quickly to the literal-mindedness of the placid computer, Ishie fired a direct question. "What is our current position in relation to the equatorial orbit that we should be following?" he asked. There was a sput from the speaker, very much as though someone had been caught off guard and almost said something, and then the placid reply came back. "That information is top secret. Please identify yourself as Mike and I will answer you." Ishie groaned, depressed the cutoff switch and turned to Mike. "You fixed it," he said. "If a simple question like that gets an answer like that, how long do you think it will take the captain to find out something's wrong with the Cow?" Mike lunged for the switch, but Ishie held him back. "Hold it, Boy. You've made enough electronic mistakes for one day. This takes some thinking over." "We better think fast," said Mike. "The captain'll ask that question any second now, or a question like it."