things is tricky. You get some of this stuff out of
tolerance, it can wreck a whole ship. They got to be right."

"So, why not a sample run-through? Then you can run test on a real
piece."

"This is a very complicated device. Can't check those internal
tolerance without you put in on proof load. These got to be right the
first time."

Stan shook his head wearily.

"Look. Get up. I'll give your tape a run-through, then we'll pull a
sample and check it out. Got a helper?"

"Some place around here." Sornal got out of his chair and stood,
looking at the floor.

Stan picked up the tape and sat down.

[Illustration]

"All right, go find him then. And bring him over here while I run out
the sample. We can make with the talk after that."

* * * * *

The tape was perfect, with neither patch nor correction. Stan finally
raised his head, growling to himself.

"Guy's competent enough at programming, anyway. Now, what's wrong with
him?"

He snapped the power switch from stand-by to on, then waited as the
indicators came up. Delicately, he turned a couple of microdrive dials
till the needles settled on their red lines. Then he opened the
control head, poked the tape in, and punched the starter lever.

The tape clicked steadily through the head. Stan kept his eyes moving
about as he checked the meters.

The tape ran out of the head and dropped into the catcher basket and
hydraulics squished as a delivery arm set a small block on the sample
table. Stan picked it up, turning it over to examine it.

It was a simple, rectangular block of black material, about the size
of a cigarette lighter. On five sides were intricate patterns of
silvery connector dots. An identifying number covered the sixth.
Inside, Stan knew, lay complex circuitry, traced into the insulation.
Tiny dots of alloy formed critical junctions, connected by minute,
sprayed-in threads of conductor material. He glanced around.

Sornal watched anxiously. He looked at the little module block as
though it were alive and dangerous.

"Here," Stan told him, "stick this in the test jig and run it."

Sornal carefully set the block into an aperture, then reached for a
switch. His hand seemed to freeze on the switch for a moment, then he
looked back at Stan and snapped it on. Needles rose from their pins,
flickered, then steadied.

Sornal appeared to gain a little confidence. He turned a dial, noted
the readings on a few meters,