--they figure to only two places, and we've
got to have the third place almost solid if we expect to get a smooth
curve. A hundredth of a centimeter of acceleration means a lot on a long
trip when they're holding us as close as they are doing now. We'll ride
this trip on 981.286 centimeters--with our scheduled mass, that means
thirty six points of four seven kilofranks _plus_ equilibrium power. All
set to go," the computer stated, as he changed, by fractions of arc, the
course-plotters of the automatic integrating goniometer.

"You're the doctor--but I'm glad it's you that'll have to explain to the
observatory," and Breckenridge set his exceedingly delicate excess power
potentiometer exactly upon the indicated figure. "Well, we've got a few
minutes left for a chin-chin before we lift her off."

"What's all this commotion about? Dish out the low-down."

"Well, it's like this, Steve. We pilots are having one sweet
time--we're being growled at on every trip. The management squawks if
we're thirty seconds plus or minus at the terminals, and the passenger
department squalls if we change acceleration five centimeters total en
route--claims it upsets the dainty customers and loses business for
the road. They're tightening up on us all the time. A couple of years
ago, you remember, it didn't make any difference what we did with the
acceleration as long as we checked in somewhere near zero time--we used
to spin 'em dizzy when we reversed at the half-way station--but that
kind of stuff doesn't go any more. We've got to hold the acceleration
constant and close to normal, got to hold our schedule on zero, _plus_
or _minus_ ten seconds, and yet we've got to make any detours they
tell us to, such as this seven-million kilometer thing they handed
us just now. To make things worse, we've got to take orders at every
check-station, and yet _we_ get the blame for everything that happens
as a consequence of obeying those orders! Of course, I know as well
as you do that it's rotten technique to change acceleration at every
check-station; but we've told 'em over and over that we can't do any
better until they put a real computer on every ship and tell the
check-stations to report meteorites and other obstructions to us and
then to let us alone. So you'd better recommend us some computers!"

"You're getting rotten computation, that's a sure thing, and I don't
blame you pilots for yelling, but I don't believe that you've got the
right answe