"But where are your drawings? Where are your plans? Where are your calculations?"
"Our drawings will be made by draftsmen when we make the thing work," answered McBride. "No sense in having a sheaf of drawings when we'll change the thing a dozen times before it is perfected. Our plans are step-by-step, and any result from one step may change our next step. Our calculations and mathematical deductions will be handled by brilliant mathematicians who can twist simple formulas around to fit the observed data by adding or subtracting abstract terms that fit the case."
"Sounds slightly slipshod to me."
McBride cut the part from the bar and handed it to Pete. "Enough?" he asked, and Pete nodded over his shoulder.
"You can start on part two," he called.
McBride replaced the bar with a larger one and started to work it into shape. "We don't need drawings," he said. "I know what Pete wants and how they should fit together and they're fairly simple parts. He knows what he wants and knows that I know also, so why should we make a lot of sketches for something trivial?"
"It seems to me that this is far from trivial," said Sandra pettishly. "You're playing with the lives of us all."
"Your life wasn't worth a peanut when you tried to run through the lens," said McBride. "Why quibble now?"
"I lived through it," said Drake.
"You'll live through this, perhaps," said McBride. "Besides, we're not too worried about our own lives. We're all willing to take a chance on them for Enid."