"He ... It was in contact!" Palanth gazed at Mark Lynn startled.
"He always is," Mark held up the gleaming blue, star-like gem he carried in his pocket. "Probably appreciated your complimentary remark about the fighting qualities of Panadurs. But that's what I wanted to hear him say!" He exulted. "Hold up everything Palanth, and throw all our resources into the building of the miniature fleet."
"Yeah! But let's not forget to get the remaining spacers into shape just in case.... I'd much rather die exploding on a Terran spacer, than trapped like a Martian desert rat on Europa."
"Patience, O Spawn of unfortunate begetting!" Mark taunted his friend with one of the latter's favorite insults. "Everything in good time."
As their Spacer came into view in the distance, Mark increased his speed unconsciously as he thought of Lucero.
VIII
His eyes were expressionless, his ego inert, but with the incredible dexterity of genius and long practice, Doctor Verdugo transferred the brains of drugged scientists to the waiting rows of perfected robots.
The bolt of living energy that had dropped the infamous Terran surgeon in the recesses of an Europan cavern, had neutralized his will, and his egocentric and sadistic personality no longer dominated his brain.
Now his flying fingers manipulated atomic scalpels without hesitation, and one by one scientific brains were short of certain areas, without impairing them. Silently he coupled the organic demi-brains with the mechanical motor organs of the robots, by means of nerve tendrils that led out of the brains themselves, and were curled into coils about which he placed helixes of sensitized silver wire, that made them virtually transformers—nervous impulses into electrical and vice versa.