o its original position.

In reply, for every figure of any type sent over the keyboard, the Cow
sent back a half-yard of confused, rambling figures and would do
nothing else.

General Elbertson snapped a single command. "Turn the thing off. We'll
get to that later."

Busily the men switched the keys to the "off" position. Just as busily
the Cow continued to pour out figures, interspersed with rambling
pages of physics covering such odd subjects as the yak population of
the Andes, the number of buffalo that were purported to be able to
dance on the rim of the Grand Canyon--a fantastic figure--some
confused statement about the birth rate in Indo-China, and an equally
confused statement about the learning rate in schools in Haddock.

Eventually, if one cared to sort it out, the Cow might produce the
entire Encyclopedia Britannica for the year 1911; and then again,
possibly for the year 33,310. Actually, it only depended on what you
wished to select. It was a vast mass of material that was being
happily upchucked into the lap of the confused communications officer
and his two, unhelpful assistants.

[Illustration]

Not a single one of the view panels, either those at the computer's
console or the ones at the captain's console, were presenting a
readable picture. Hodgepodges and flickerings, yes. Scraps of
star-lit sky--perhaps. Or vaguely wavy electronic patterns that would
have been familiar to anyone who ever looked at a broken TV set.

The Cow was really wild.

Leaning back in the captain's chair, watching the screen casually,
General Elbertson chuckled.

He didn't, he noticed, feel nearly so weary.

The position actually was good, even if those idiots didn't know what
they were doing with the computer. That could be straightened out.

Somewhere, he was sure, there was cause for great pride in his
actions.

The peaceful glow of victory seemed to settle about him.

He HAD won. He was in the captain's chair of the only space station
that man had ever put in orbit.

His worst enemy was tied to a chair only a few feet away.

At times like this a man could glow, could feel expansive even towards
his enemies.

Naylor wasn't such a bad chap. If he hadn't thrown in with the
scientists he might even now be a fellow officer, entitled to full
respect and honor.

General Elbertson did not consider it odd that his face was suddenly
flushed with triumph. There was a glow of energy. Why, he could even
get up an