Part 17 (2/2)

”Sure,” Malone said. ”But anything you can do to speed it up--”

”I understand,” Leibowitz said. ”Of course I'll do anything that I can for you. I have got a small preliminary report, by the way.”

”Yes?”

”The first car has just been run off the a.s.sembly line,” Leibowitz said. ”And I'm afraid, Mr. Malone, that there's nothing odd about it at all.”

”Well,” Malone said, ”we can't expect to hit the jackpot with our first try.”

”Certainly not,” Leibowitz said. ”But the second should be off soon.

And then the rest. I'm keeping my eye on every one, of course.”

”Fine,” Malone said, and meant it. Leibowitz was the kind of man who inspired instant and complete trust. Malone was perfectly sure he'd do the job he had started to do. Then an idea struck him. ”Has the first car been rea.s.sembled yet?” he asked.

”Of course,” Leibowitz said. ”We took that step into account in our timing. What would you like done with it--and with the other ones, as they come off?”

”Unless you can find something odd about a car, just return it to its owner,” Malone said. ”Or pa.s.s the problem on to the squad men; they'll take care of it.” He paused. ”If you do find something odd--”

”I'll call you at once, of course,” Leibowitz said.

”Good,” Malone said. ”Incidentally, I did want to ask you something. I don't want you to think I'm doubting your work, or anything like that.

Believe me.”

”I'm sure you're not,” Leibowitz said.

”But,” Malone said, ”why does it take so long? I'd think it would be fairly easy to spot a robotic or a semi-robotic brain capable of controlling a car.”

”It might have been, once,” Leibowitz said. ”But these days the problems are rather special. Oh, I don't mean we can't do it--we can and we will. But with subminiaturization, Mr. Malone, and semipsionic circuits, a pretty good brain can be hidden beneath a coat of paint.”

For no reason at all, Malone suddenly thought of Dorothy again. ”A coat of paint?” he said in a disturbed tone.

”Certainly,” Leibowitz said, and smiled at him. It was a warm smile that had little or nothing to do with the problem they were talking about. But Malone liked it. It made him feel as if Leibowitz liked him, and approved of him. He grinned back.

”But a coat of paint isn't very much,” Malone said.

”It doesn't have to be very much,” Leibowitz said. ”Not these days.

I've often told Emily--that's my wife, Mr. Malone--that I could hide a TV circuit under her lipstick. Not that there would be any use in it; but the techniques are there. Mr. Malone. And if your conjecture is correct, someone is using them.”

”Oh,” Malone said. ”Sure. But you _can_ find the circuits, if they're there?”

Leibowitz nodded slowly. ”We can, Mr. Malone,” he said. ”They betray themselves. A microcircuit need not be more than a few microns thick, you see--as far as the conductors and insulators are concerned, at any rate. But the regulators-transistors and such--have to be as big as a pinhead.”

”Enormous, huh?” Malone said.

”Well,” Leibowitz said, and chuckled, ”quite large enough to locate without trouble, at any rate. They're very hard to conceal. And the leads from the brain to the power controls are even easier to find--comparatively speaking, of course.”

”Of course,” Malone said.

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