"This is the brain," the captain said, with a gesture.
The brain was less than awe-inspiring. The mustard-seed cryotron relays were comfortably housed in a steel and aluminum hide no roomier than a pair of Earthside bureaus. It looked a bit like a home clothing processor to Starbuck.
Birdsel crossed to the machine and ran a hand along its metal side. "Magnificent, isn't it, Ben? I've never seen anything like it before in my long career in the Space Service."
"It's certainly nice," Starbuck ventured.
Metallic chattering burst out.
"It's saying something, Ben! This is the first time it's talked since the second day after it was installed!"
The message was clearly legible, spelled out in a pattern of dots on a central screen.
WHO IS THE NEW ONE?
"Give it the information," the captain said hastily. "We feed it all the information it asks for."