cessary to be a pilot to run the ship; any person who
knew a smattering of astronavigation could get to his destination by
simply telling the ship what he wanted to do.

Jack Ravenhurst took in the whole thing with wide-eyed interest.

"Is the brain activated, Mr. Midguard?" she asked.

"Oh, yes. We've been educating him for the past month, pumping
information in as rapidly as he could record it and index it. He's
finished with that stage now; we're just waiting for the selection of
a test pilot for the final shakedown cruise." He was looking warily at
Jack as he spoke, as if he were waiting for something.

Evidently, he knew what was coming. "I'd like to talk to him," Jack
said. "It's so interesting to carry on an intelligent conversation
with a machine."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Miss Ravenhurst," Midguard said rather
worriedly. "You see, McGuire's primed so that the first man's voice he
hears will be identified as his master. It's what we call the 'chick
reaction'. You know: the first moving thing a newly-hatched bird sees
is regarded as the mother, and, once implanted, that order can't be
rescinded. We can change McGuire's orientation in that respect, but
we'd rather not have to go through that. After the test pilot
establishes contact, you can talk to him all you want."

"When will the test pilot be here?" Jack asked, still as sweet as
sucrodyne.

"Within a few days. It looks as though a man named Nels Bjornsen will
be our choice. You may have heard of him."

"No," she said, "but I'm sure your choice will be correct."

Midguard still felt apologetic. "Well, you know how it is, Miss
Ravenhurst; we can't turn a delicate machine like this over to just
anyone for the first trial. He has to be a man of good judgment and
fast reflexes. He has to know exactly what to say and when to say it,
if you follow me."

"Oh, certainly; certainly." She paused and looked thoughtful. "I
presume you've taken precautions against anyone stealing in here and
taking control of the ship."

Midguard smiled and nodded wisely. "Certainly. Communication with
McGuire can't be established unless and until two keys are used in the
activating panel. I carry one; Colonel Brock has the other. Neither
of us will give his key up to anyone but the accredited test pilot.
And McGuire himself will scream out an alarm if anyone tries to jimmy
the locks. He's his own burglar alarm."

She nodded. "I see." A pause. "Well, Mr. Midguard, I t