"I understand, sir," said Tom.

"All right, then we'll begin. Your crew is aboard, the air lock is
closed. What is the first thing you do?"

"Adjust the air circulating system to ensure standard Earth conditions."

"How do you do that?"

"By pressing this button which will activate the servo units. They
automatically keep the circulating pumps in operation, based on
thermostatic readings from the main gauge." Tom pointed to a black clock
face, with a luminous white hand and numbers.

"All right, carry on," said Strong.

Tom reached over the huge control board that extended around him for
some two feet on three sides. He placed a nervous finger on a small
button, waited for the gauge below to register with a swing of the hand,
and then released it. "All pressures steady, sir."

"What next?"

"Check the crew, sir--all departments--" replied Tom.

"Carry on," said Strong.

Tom reached out and pulled a microphone toward him.

"All hands! Station check!" said Tom, and then was startled to hear a
metallic voice answer him.

"Power deck, ready for blast-off!" And then another voice: "Radar deck,
ready for blast-off!"

Tom leaned back in the pilot's seat and turned to the captain. "All
stations ready, sir."

"Good! What next?" asked Strong.

"Ask spaceport tower for blast-off clearance--"

Strong nodded. Tom turned back to the microphone, and without looking,
punched a button in front of him.

"Rocket cruiser--" He paused and turned back to Strong. "What name do I
give, sir?"

Strong smiled. "_Noah's Ark_--"

"Rocket cruiser _Noah's Ark_ to spaceport control! Request blast-off
clearance and orbit."

Once again a thin metallic voice answered him and gave the necessary
instructions.

On and on, through every possible command, condition or decision that
would be placed in front of him, Tom guided his imaginary ship on its
imaginary flight through space. For two hours he pushed buttons, snapped
switches and jockeyed controls. He gave orders and received them from
the thin metallic voices. They answered him with such accuracy, and
sometimes with seeming hesitation, that Tom found it difficult to
believe that they were only electronically controlled recording devices.
Once, when supposedly blasting through space at three-quarters space
speed, he received a warning from the radar bridge of an approaching
asteroid. He asked for a course change, but in reply received only
static. Believing the recording to