r as robots were concerned,
it was.

Captain Quill cleared his throat. "Are you sure it wasn't mechanical
damage? Are you sure the vibration of the ship didn't shake a--something
loose?"

Mike held back a grin. He was morally certain that the captain had been
going to say "screw loose."

"No," said Fitzhugh wearily. "I've checked out the major circuits, and
they're in good physical condition. But Miss Crannon gave him a rather
exhaustive test just before the end, and it shows definite incipient
aberration." He wagged his head slowly back and forth. "Eight years of
work."

"Have you notified Treadmore yet?" asked Quill.

Fitzhugh nodded. "He said he'd be here as soon as possible."

Treadmore, like the others who had landed first on Eisberg, was
quartered in the prefab buildings that were to form the nucleus of the
new base. To get to the ship, he'd have to walk across two hundred yards
of ammonia snow in a heavy spacesuit.

"Well, what happens to this base now, Doctor?" asked Captain Quill. "I
sincerely hope that this will not render the entire voyage useless." He
tried to keep the heavy irony out of his gravelly tenor voice and didn't
quite succeed.

Fitzhugh seemed not to notice. "No, no. Of course not. It simply means
that we shall have to begin again. The robot's brain will be
de-energized and drained, and we will begin again. This is not our
first failure, you know; it was just our longest success. Each time, we
learn more.

"Miss Crannon, for instance, will be able to teach the next robot--or,
rather, the next energization of this one--more rapidly, more
efficiently, and with fewer mistakes."

With that, Leda Crannon stood up. "With your permission, Dr. Fitzhugh,"
she said formally, "I would like to say that I appreciate that last
statement, but I'm afraid it isn't true."

Fitzhugh forced a smile. "Come now, my dear; you underestimate yourself.
Without you, Snookums would have folded up long ago, just like the
others. I'm sure you'll do even better the next time."

Leda shook her head. "No I won't, Fitz, because there's not going to be
any next time. I hereby tender my resignation from this project and from
the Computer Corporation of Earth. I'll put it in writing later."

Fitzhugh's corrugated countenance looked blank. "But Leda...."

"No, Doctor," she said firmly. "I will _not_ waste another eight or ten
years of my life playing nursemaid to a hunk of pseudo-human machinery.

"I watched that t