Verana was bound to a chair by strips of cloth from her skirt, and across from us, Marie was secured to another chair.

Kane staggered into the room. Although he was visibly drunk, he appeared more sober than the night before. His dark hair was rumpled and his face was flushed, but his eyes gleamed with a growing alertness.

"Awake, huh?"

"What have you done, Harry?" his wife screamed at him. Her eyes were red with tears and her lips twisted in an expression of shame when she looked at him.

"Obvious, isn't it? While all of you were asleep, I conked each of you on the head, dragged you in here and tied you up." He smiled crookedly. "It's amazing the things a person can do when he's pickled. I'm sorry I had to be so rough, but I have a plan and I knew you wouldn't agree or cooperate with me."

"What's your plan?" I asked.

He grinned wryly and crinkled bloodshot eyes. "I don't want to live in a zoo on an alien planet. I want to go home and prove my theory that this problem has a solution."

I grunted my disgust.

"The solution is simple," he said. "We're in a trap so strong that the aliens didn't establish any means to control our actions. When men put a lion in a strong cage, they don't worry about controlling the lion because the lion can't get out. We're in the same basic situation."

"So what?" Verana queried in a sarcastic tone.

"The aliens want us transported to their planet so they can examine and question us. Right?"

"Right."

"Ed, remember that remark the machine made last night?"

"What remark?"

"It said, 'My masters will be displeased with me if you arrive in a damaged condition.' What does that indicate to you?"

I assumed a baffled expression. I didn't have the slightest idea of what he was driving at and I told him so.

"Ed," he said, "if you could build an electronic brain capable of making decisions, how would you build it?"

"Hell, I don't know," I confessed.

"Well, if I could build an electronic brain like the one running this ship, I'd build it with a conscience so it'd do its best at all times."

"Machines always do their best," I argued. "Come on, untie us. I'm getting a crick in my back!" I didn't like the idea of being slugged while asleep. If Kane had been sober and if his wife hadn't been present, I would have let him know exactly what I thought of him.

"Our machines always do their best," he argued, "because we punch buttons and they respond in predetermined patterns. But the electronic brain in this ship isn't automatic. It makes decisions and I'll bet it even has to decide how much energy and time to put into each process!"

"So what?"

He shrugged muscular shoulders. "So this ship is operated by a thinking, conscientious machine. It's the first time I've encountered such a machine, but I think I know what will happen. I spent hours last night figuring—"

"What are you talking about?" I interrupted. "Are you so drunk that you don't know—"

"I'll show you, Ed."

He walked around the table and stood behind my chair. I felt his thick fingers around my throat and smelled the alcohol on his breath.

"Can you see me, machine?" he asked the empty air.

"Yes," the electronic brain replied.

"Watch!"

Kane tightened his fingers around my throat.

Verana and Marie screamed shrilly.

My head seemed to swell like a balloon; my throat gurgled painfully.

"Please stop," the machine pleaded.

"What will your masters think of you if I kill all of us? You'll return to them with a cargo of dead people!"

The machine didn't answer. I waited for the electronic brain to interfere and, with a cold knot in my stomach, realized the machine had said it had no way to control our actions!

"Your purpose won't be fulfilled, will it?" Kane demanded. "Not if you return with dead specimens!"

"No," the machine admitted.

"If you don't