“What is it?” Gross asked.
“The wiring changes. Did you understand the reason for them when you gave the okay to the workmen?”
Gross flushed. “You know I know nothing about technical material. I’m in Security.”
“Then you should have consulted me.”
“What does it matter?” Gross grinned wryly. “We’re going to have to start putting our faith in the old man sooner or later.”
The Pilot stepped back from the board. His face was pale and set. “Well, it’s done,” he said. “That’s it.”
“What’s done?” Kramer said.
“We’re on automatic. The brain. I turned the board over to it—to him, I mean. The Old Man.” The Pilot lit a cigarette and puffed nervously. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed.”
The ship was coasting evenly, in the hands of its invisible pilot. Far down inside the ship, carefully armoured and protected, a soft human brain lay in a tank of liquid, a thousand minute electric charges playing over its surface. As the charges rose they were picked up and amplified, fed into relay systems, advanced, carried on through the entire ship—