"All right, probability. Why does he stay here? Why would a really intelligent man give up civilization?"
"Well, you know how it is. He's gone native, you might say. Life among the lotus eaters, and all that. Might happen to anybody, even yourself."
Lenner shuddered.
"It's all right, though." Corrigan continued. "He'll be here any minute, and I'm sure he'll be able to help. Knows all there is to know about these machines. In fact, here he comes now."
Burwell entered, and Corrigan could hardly suppress a small chuckle. Burwell had picked up Lenner's ideas about what a man of intelligence and authority ought to look like, and had gone to some trouble to look the part. He was wearing a uniform of some sort, spectacles, and an expression of extreme wisdom.
"I'm sure I can repair what's wrong," Burwell told Lenner. "Let's go and look at your machine."
Arriving, Burwell climbed over the mechanism with an air of bored ability, occasionally thumping at something, adjusting something else, or hitting a part with a tool until it rang. He muttered to himself as he worked, allowing the sound of his musings to drift in Lenner's direction.
"Umm ... badly twisted impeller ... the varish is more or less waffled ... let's see if ... ah, there we are."
He climbed down and solemnly shook hands with Lenner.
"Fine machine you've got there, my boy. It'll take you back to your own place quite easily now. There wasn't a thing wrong except the drift crotch. However, I wouldn't use it again if I were you. There's no real control on these things. A man could end up anywhere. And of course, you'd never find your way back here, without control."