He opened the thick tome to the middle while Kennely looked over his shoulder. He started to read aloud from a random paragraph:
"... then the six paratempal tubes are connected in cycloid and the field stress advanced to six point three diams. The coordinator is shipped from the factory with this adjustment made for standard gravity, but with mass-inertia variations caused by changes in gravity it may be necessary to go through the entire process of setting the horostasis circuit in operation in proper sequence ..."
"Cripes, Brian. We can't read this stuff. I'd like to bet that nowhere in these pages does it tell what a paratempal tube is and how it functions. Take any one of our own instruction books. There're a thousand references unexplained to anyone not equipped with the proper background. And we're definitely not equipped with the proper background to savvy this!"
Kennely nodded, "It'd take us months to plow through this and attempt to figure out the references. With Tarman biting chunks out of the plant we can't fool around about it."
They looked back towards the image of the time-distant control room of American Carriers. Tarman and Croul were busy over a computing desk, but they looked up as the men approached the projection.
"Are you ready to give up our cargo?" said Tarman. "We don't want this junk we're picking up from you, but I don't imagine it improves your surroundings to be cut up this way."
"We'll make a deal," said Kennely. "Let us have access to the coordinator long enough to copy it and we'll let you have it back."
"We must have it at once. Our charter would be cancelled if this became known."
"Give us twenty-four hours then, and we'll promise to release it."