"Yes, sir. But I checked the Brain—"
"Did you, Ralph?"
"Yes, sir. And the Maintainovac said it was perfect. There's nothing wrong with it."
"Nothing wrong? You call twenty-four firings out of forty nothing?" The old man stood up, still holding the core of his apple.
"Well, I don't understand it either, Mr. Moss." Colihan felt dew on his forehead. "Nothing seems to satisfy the Brain anymore. It seems to develop higher and higher standards, or something. Why, I'm not sure it wouldn't even fire—"
"WHO?" said Moss thunderously. "WHO wouldn't it even fire?"
The thunder hit Colihan squarely. He swallowed hard, and then managed to say:
"Anybody, sir. Me, for instance."
The President's face suddenly relaxed.
"I'm no tyrant, my boy. You know that. I'm just doing a job, that's all."