rgy chamber developed a positive-feedback oscillation
that threatened to blow out the whole pre-induction stage unless it was
damped. The search for the out-of-phase external field tubes had to be
dropped while the more dangerous flaw was tackled.

Multhaus plugged in an emergency board and began to compensate by hand
while the others searched frantically for the trouble.

Hand compensation of feeder-valve oscillation is pure intuition; if you
wait until the meters show that damping is necessary, it may be too
late--you have to second-guess the machine and figure out what's coming
_before_ it happens and compensate then. You not only have to judge
time, but magnitude; overcompensation is ruinous, too.

Multhaus, the Chief Powerman's Mate, sat behind the emergency board, a
vernier dial in each hand and both eyes on an oscilloscope screen. His
red, beefy face was corded and knotted with tension, and his skin
glistened with oily perspiration. He didn't say a word, and his fingers
barely moved as he held a green line reasonably steady on that screen.

Mike the Angel, using unangelic language in a steady, muttering stream,
worked to find the circuit that held the secret of the ruinous feedback
tendency, while other powermen plugged and unplugged meter jacks,
flipped switches, and juggled tools.

In the midst of all this, in rolled Snookums.

Whether Snookums knew that his own existence was in danger is
problematical. Like the human brain, his own had no pain or sensory
circuits within it; in addition, his knowledge of robotics was small--he
didn't even know that his brain was in Cargo Hold One. He thought it was
in his head, if he thought about it at all.

Nonetheless, he knew _something_ was wrong, and as soon as his
"curiosity" circuits were activated, he set out in search of the
trouble, his little treads rolling at high speed.

Leda Crannon saw him heading down a companionway and called after him.
"Where are you going, Snookums?"

"Looking for data," answered Snookums, slowing a little.

"Wait! I'll come with you!"

Leda Crannon knew perfectly well what effect the throb might have on
Snookums' brain, and when something cracked, she wanted to see what
effect it might have on the behavior of the little robot. Like a hound
after a fox, she followed him through the corridors of the ship.

Up companionways and down, in and out of storerooms, staterooms, control
rooms, and washrooms Snookums scurried, oblivious to