Again Nea’s dark eyes flashed. “Oh, once he was dead you thought very well of him. And as for resentment, isn’t this whole trip being made because you resent Grim Hagen—”
Ato’s face was growing darker. “You signed the ship’s articles, Nea. We go to rescue our friends and loved ones. We go as a police force to punish one who has done much evil—”
A grizzled Bron nodded in agreement. “Yes, Nea, this talk serves no purpose. Get along with your invention.”
“Very well. I asked for a live thing, but Ato would not agree.”
Again Ato was on the defensive. “There are not a dozen pets on the ship. I do not approve of such experiments. Besides, the batteries are already set up.” He pointed to a row of dry-cells, connected together and wired to a large volt-meter upon the wall.
“All right.” Nea threw a switch that put the batteries in circuit. The needle of the gauge moved over to its farthest point. “Now,” she told them. “You shall see. But be still. I am sure I can control it—”
Odin thought there was just a bit of doubt in her voice. If so, it would only be natural.
She opened the case and took out something which still looked to Jack Odin like a bowling ball—except that it was studded with little brads of copper and a swatch of fine, silky wires was wrapped around it.
She pressed a button upon its surface. It began to hum. Slowly it rose into the air. The silky wires drooped down. They writhed and probed about.
“This is as near as man has ever come to making a living thing,” Nea explained. “It moves. It reacts to sensations. It makes its own energy. Watch!”