d. Then he figured a literalness in his phrasing.

"Is Hot Rod pushing or in any other way giving motion to Space Lab
One?" he asked.

"No-o-oo," came the answer.

Now Mike _was_ stumped.

"Is Space Lab One under acceleration?" he asked.

"Ye-es," said the Cow.

"Then where in hell is that acceleration coming from?" Mike was
exasperated.

"We a-are uunder no-o-o acceleration fro-om he-ell," the literal mind
told him.

* * * * *

Mike laughed ruefully. No acceleration from hell--well, that was
debatable. But no thrust from the hellmaker was not a debatable point.
The Cow wasn't likely to be wrong, though her appalling literalness
was such that an improperly phrased question might make her seem to
be.

Computers, he thought, would eventually be the salvation of the human
race, whetting their inventors' brains to higher and higher efforts
towards the understanding of communications.

Very carefully now he rephrased his question. "From what, and from
what point is the acceleration of Space Lab One originating?"

"From the co-ontinu-ous thrust o-originating at a po-oint thirteen
fe-et from the a-axial center of the whe-el, in hu-ub section five
no-orth, one hundred twelve degrees fro-om reference ze-ero of the
engine-eering lo-ongitude references sta-ation assigned in the
con-struction ma-anual dealing with relative po-ositions o-of ma-asses
lo-ocated o-on Spa-ace La-ab O-one."

Mike glanced up at the tube overhead, which represented the axial
passageway down the hub of the wheel. Thirteen feet from the imaginary
center of that tube, and in his own engineering compartment.

Then his gaze traveled on around the oddly built, circular room with
its thirty-two-foot diameter. The reference to hub section five north
meant this compartment. The degrees reference referred to the
balancing co-ordinates by which the Cow kept the big wheel statically
balanced during rotation. There was a bright stripe of red paint
across the floor which indicated zero degrees; and degrees were
counted counterclockwise from the north pole of the wheel.

His eyes strayed across the various panels and racks and came to rest
in the one hundred twelve degree area. A number of vacant racks, some
holding the testing equipment he had moved there not too many hours
before--and churkling quietly in its rack near the floor, Ishie's
Confusor of Confusion.

Mike contemplated the device with awed respect, then phr