A headstrong, spoiled brat she may have been, but Sandra Drake was by no means unintelligent. After John McBride had cut off a tiny lathe-turning just in time to hand it to Pete, who seemed to need it at exactly that moment to fit into his instrument, Sandra said to McBride: "Is there any pattern to all this mess?"
"If there weren't, we'd really be in a mess." He opened the chuck, advanced the rod a few inches, and started to turn the rod down to size again.
"This," said Sandra in that infuriating voice, "is order, neatness, and efficiency?"
"We like it," answered McBride, his eyes on the cross-feed vernier. "It may not look like a drawing room, but we know what we're doing."
"Do you? Is this a sample of how the place looks every time the Haywire Queen goes out to experiment?"
"Undoubtedly."
"Why couldn't it be neat and clean?"
"Because we can't replace every tool back in the cabinet when we are ready to lay it down for a minute. Because it is far better to run cutting chips all over the floor and sweep 'em up once instead of running the broom every seven seconds after each chip. Because it is easier to work this way."
"Well," said Sandra, unimpressed, "the Haywire Queen seems deserving of her name."
"There have been a lot of ticklish space problems fought out in her," replied McBride. "Just as we're fighting one now."