Before Leda could say anything, Snookums rolled over to Mike the Angel and said: “Check the lead between the 391-JF and the big DK-37. I think you’ll find that the piping is in phase with the two-cycle note, and it’s become warped and stretched. It’s about half a millimeter off—plus or minus a tenth. The pulse is reaching the DK-37 about four degrees off, and the gate is closing before it all gets through. That’s forcing the regulator circuit to overcompensate, and....”
Mike didn’t listen to any more. He didn’t know whether Snookums knew what he was talking about or not, but he did know that the thing the robot had mentioned would have had just such an effect.
Mike strode rapidly across the room and flipped up the shield housing the assembly Snookums had mentioned. The lead was definitely askew.
Mike the Angel snapped orders, and the power crewmen descended on the scene of the trouble.
Snookums went right on delivering his interpretation of the data, but everyone ignored him while they worked. Being ignored didn’t bother Snookums in the least.
“... and that, in turn, is making the feeder valve field oscillate,” he finished up, nearly five minutes later.
Mike was glad that Snookums had pinpointed the trouble first and then had gone on to show why the defect was causing the observed result. He could just as easily have started with the offending oscillation and reached the bit about the faulty lead at the end of his speech, except that he had been built to do it the other way around. Snookums made the deduction in his superfast mind and then reeled it off backward, as it were, going from conclusion to premises.
Otherwise, he might have been too late.
The repair didn’t take long, once Snookums had found just what needed repairing. When the job was over, Mike the Angel wiped his hands on a rag and stood up.
“Thanks, Snookums,” he said honestly. “You’ve been a great help.”