d back over the dialogue that has just
occurred between herself and Mike, Ishie interrupted. "Not that," he
said, "I mean the last previous conversation."

Then he sat back as the Cow unreeled a fifteen minute monologue which
repeated both sides of the conversation including the order to make
everything top secret.

Having listened through this, Ishie said: "At the point where Mike
asks you about acceleration, you will now erase the rest of the
conversation and substitute this comment from yourself: 'The lab is
being accelerated by an external magneto-ionic effect.' This will be
your only explanation of acceleration applied to the ship. Now please
repeat your conversation with Mike."

Then he sat back to listen through the recording again.

This time when it came to the part about acceleration, without
hesitation, the Cow referred blithely to the external magneto-ionic
effect that was causing acceleration.

When Ishie asked the computer: "How could this effect be canceled?"
and listened to a long syllogistic outline which, if condensed to a
single, understandable sentence meant simply "by reversing the field
in respect to the lab with a magnet on board the lab."

Ishie heaved a great sigh of relief, and said, "Now, Mike, we can go
to work. For of course," he added, "we must have authority to install
our magnetic coils, and what better authority is there than the Cow?

"Confusion say it is better to have the voice of authority speak with
your words than to be the voice of authority.

"Now," he said, "let us see what we have really got here."

* * * * *

As they worked, time progressed. The empty racks around the Confusor
slowly filled with more test instruments both borrowed and devised;
and the formerly unoccupied corner of the section of panels took on
more and more the look of a complete installation, in the center of
which the Confusor still churkled quietly, pitting its strength
against the mighty monster to which it was so firmly tied.

Two hours were spent in testing circuits, each one exhaustively. Then
Ishie turned to Mike.

"We need still yet another test that we have not provided. A strain
gauge to find out how much thrust a mosquito puts out. There's one in
the physics lab. I'll run get it."

"You will _not_," said Mike. "Genius you may be, but proton-proof
you're not. We can rig that right here."

Walking over to the spare parts locker, Mike brought back a comp