g a chicken leg, "that your
appearance here has been very upsetting to our program. Now that you
know more about us you can see why Commissioner Reinhart was so
interested in destroying you."

Cole nodded.

"Reinhart, you realize, believes that the failure of the SRB machines
is the chief danger to the war effort. But that is nothing!" Sherikov
pushed his plate away noisily, draining his coffee mug. "After all,
wars _can_ be fought without statistical forecasts. The SRB machines
only describe. They're nothing more than mechanical onlookers. In
themselves, they don't affect the course of the war. _We_ make the
war. They only analyze."

Cole nodded.

"More coffee?" Sherikov asked. He pushed the plastic container toward
Cole. "Have some."

Cole accepted another cupful. "Thank you."

"You can see that our real problem is another thing entirely. The
machines only do figuring for us in a few minutes that eventually we
could do for our own selves. They're our servants, tools. Not some
sort of gods in a temple which we go and pray to. Not oracles who can
see into the future for us. They don't see into the future. They only
make statistical predictions--not prophecies. There's a big difference
there, but Reinhart doesn't understand it. Reinhart and his kind have
made such things as the SRB machines into gods. But I have no gods. At
least, not any I can see."

Cole nodded, sipping his coffee.

"I'm telling you all these things because you must understand what
we're up against. Terra is hemmed in on all sides by the ancient
Centauran Empire. It's been out there for centuries, thousands of
years. No one knows how long. It's old--crumbling and rotting. Corrupt
and venal. But it holds most of the galaxy around us, and we can't
break out of the Sol system. I told you about Icarus, and Hedge's work
in ftl flight. We must win the war against Centaurus. We've waited and
worked a long time for this, the moment when we can break out and get
room among the stars for ourselves. Icarus is the deciding weapon. The
data on Icarus tipped the SRB odds in our favor--for the first time in
history. Success in the war against Centaurus will depend on Icarus,
not on the SRB machines. You see?"

Cole nodded.

"However, there is a problem. The data on Icarus which I turned over
to the machines specified that Icarus would be completed in ten days.
More than half that time has already passed. Yet, we are no closer to
wiring up the control t