ith excitement.
"We've been hunting at random for the Brain, so it would only be an
accident if we found it. We'll have to do this systematically, and with
Conn to help us--Conn, why not build a computer? I don't mean another
Brain; I mean a computer to help us find the Brain."

"We can, but we may not even need to build one. When we get out to the
industrial planets, we may find one ready except for perhaps some minor
alterations."

"But how are we going to finance all this?" Klem Zareff demanded
querulously. "We're poorer than snakes, and even one hyperdrive ship's
going to cost like Gehenna."

"I've been thinking about that, Klem," Fawzi said. "If we can find
material at these shipyards Conn knows about, most of our expense will
be labor. Well, haven't we ten workmen competing for every job? They
don't really need money, only the things money can buy. We can raise
food on the farms and provide whatever else they need out of Federation
supplies."

"Sure. As soon as it gets around that we're really trying to do
something about this, everybody'll want in on it," Tom Brangwyn
predicted.

"And I have no doubt that the Planetary Government at Storisende will
give us assistance, once we show that this is a practical and productive
enterprise," Judge Ledue put in. "I have some slight influence with the
President and--"

"I'm not too sure we want the Government getting into this," Kurt Fawzi
replied. "Give them half a chance and that gang at Storisende'll squeeze
us right out."

"We can handle this ourselves," Brangwyn agreed. "And when we get some
kind of a ship and get out to the other two systems, or even just to
Tubal-Cain or Hiawatha, first thing you know, we'll _be_ the Planetary
Government."

"Well, now, Tom," Fawzi began piously, "the Brain is too big a thing for
a few of us to try to monopolize; it'll be for all Poictesme. Of course,
it's only proper that we, who are making the effort to locate it, should
have the direction of that effort...."

While Fawzi was talking, Rodney Maxwell went to the table, rummaged his
pistol out of the pile and buckled it on. The mayor stopped short.

"You leaving us, Rod?"

"Yes, it's getting late. Conn and I are going for a little walk; we'll
be at Senta's in half an hour. The fresh air will do both of us good and
we have a lot to talk about. After all, we haven't seen each other for
over five years."

* * * * *

They were silent, howe