"Well, if I could build an electronic brain like the one running this ship, I'd build it with a conscience so it'd do its best at all times."
"Machines always do their best," I argued. "Come on, untie us. I'm getting a crick in my back!" I didn't like the idea of being slugged while asleep. If Kane had been sober and if his wife hadn't been present, I would have let him know exactly what I thought of him.
"Our machines always do their best," he argued, "because we punch buttons and they respond in predetermined patterns. But the electronic brain in this ship isn't automatic. It makes decisions and I'll bet it even has to decide how much energy and time to put into each process!"
"So what?"
He shrugged muscular shoulders. "So this ship is operated by a thinking, conscientious machine. It's the first time I've encountered such a machine, but I think I know what will happen. I spent hours last night figuring—"
"What are you talking about?" I interrupted. "Are you so drunk that you don't know—"
"I'll show you, Ed."
He walked around the table and stood behind my chair. I felt his thick fingers around my throat and smelled the alcohol on his breath.
"Can you see me, machine?" he asked the empty air.
"Yes," the electronic brain replied.