elf of late: where does the new capacity go? Even the big
shots like Dr. Scriven begin to ask questions about that; they don't
seem rightly to know. They must have gotten their wires crossed
somewhere; the new capacity is there all right, only it doesn't show up,
it sort of evaporates.... Excuse me--"

Gus darted off to the front room with a jackrabbitt start. Voices were
calling for him and fingers were drumming on the counter with the
impatience of thirsty drinkers at a bar: Maintenance engineers, piling
in and slapping down their orders for Gus to fill. This was the rush
hour; Lee knew that it would be the same in all the tool and spare part
distribution centers of The Brain. He probably couldn't talk to Gus
again before 2 A.M. Sometimes the ruthlessness with which he exploited
the kindness of his little friend made Lee feel pretty bad; but then his
hunger for more knowledge always won out over his shame.

To sit alone in the semidarkness of this egg-shaped little room with
strange and fascinating things to play with as he willed was the
fulfillment of a childhood dream. The dream had been of a night in the
zoo. All the visitors and all the keepers would be asleep in their beds;
he would be all alone with the animals. The light of a full moon would
fall through the bars of the cages and he would slip in and play with
them.

Once they saw that it was only a little boy they would be very friendly;
he was convinced of that. The tigers would purr like big contented cats,
the sad-eyed chimpanzees would come to shake hands and the lion cubs
would tumble all over him.... He felt the same now with all these
gadgets and machines. Here they were rendered harmless, nor could he do
any harm as experimentally he plugged them in and out, as he pushed
buttons and turned dials. This interesting pulsemeter, for instance; the
beauty of it was that even with those weak residual currents it gave a
semblence of functioning....

* * * * *

The switchboard-panel was within Lee's reach.

"Let's see what happens," he thought as he switched from main-circuit to
main-circuit. "Nervus vagus--nervus trigeminus--nervus opticus."

The magic dance of the green line was different each time and so were
the sounds in the phones. With the mainpower cut off, the residual
currents seemed to vary in strength and in amplitude, gaining an
individuality of their own within closed systems. Sometimes the swinging
line, li