a brain...."

"Technically, it could be done. Brains have been transferred several
times, when body destruction made it necessary. Of course, to a
spaceship, to a heavy outspace cruiser, instead of an artificial body,
that's new."

The room was silent.

"It's quite an idea," Gross said slowly. His heavy square face
twisted. "But even supposing it might work, the big question is
_whose_ brain?"

* * * * *

It was all very confusing, the reasons for the war, the nature of the
enemy. The Yucconae had been contacted on one of the outlying planets
of Proxima Centauri. At the approach of the Terran ship, a host of
dark slim pencils had lifted abruptly and shot off into the distance.
The first real encounter came between three of the yuk pencils and a
single exploration ship from Terra. No Terrans survived. After that it
was all out war, with no holds barred.

Both sides feverishly constructed defense rings around their systems.
Of the two, the Yucconae belt was the better. The ring around Proxima
was a living ring, superior to anything Terra could throw against it.
The standard equipment by which Terran ships were guided in outspace,
the Johnson Control, was not adequate. Something more was needed.
Automatic relays were not good enough.

--Not good at all, Kramer thought to himself, as he stood looking down
the hillside at the work going on below him. A warm wind blew along
the hill, rustling the weeds and grass. At the bottom, in the valley,
the mechanics had almost finished; the last elements of the reflex
system had been removed from the ship and crated up.

All that was needed now was the new core, the new central key that
would take the place of the mechanical system. A human brain, the
brain of an intelligent, wary human being. But would the human being
part with it? That was the problem.

Kramer turned. Two people were approaching him along the road, a man
and a woman. The man was Gross, expressionless, heavy-set, walking
with dignity. The woman was--He stared in surprise and growing
annoyance. It was Dolores, his wife. Since they'd separated he had
seen little of her....

"Kramer," Gross said. "Look who I ran into. Come back down with us.
We're going into town."

"Hello, Phil," Dolores said. "Well, aren't you glad to see me?"

He nodded. "How have you been? You're looking fine." She was still
pretty and slender in her uniform, the blue-grey of Internal Security,
Gross'