Bors said painfully, "They don't all have the same gift."
Morgan broke in, amused. "Gwenlyn insists that I have the talent of finding and using talents."
"A mild talent, Father," said Gwenlyn. "Not enough to make you revolting. But--"
A door opened. A tweedy man with a small mustache stood in the doorway.
"I believe I'm wanted?" he said offhandedly.
Morgan introduced him. His name was Logan. He was the lightning calculator, the mathematical talent of Talents, Incorporated. Bors shook his hand. The tweedy man sat down. He drew out a pipe and began to fill it with conscious exactitude. He looked remarkably like a professor of mathematics who modestly pretended to be just another commuter. He dressed the part: slightly untidy hair; bulldog pipe; casual, expensive sports shoes.
"I understand," he said negligently, "that you want some calculations made."
"I'm told I do," said Bors, harassedly. "But I don't know what they are."
"Then how can I make them?" asked Logan with lifted eyebrows.
"Naturally," said Morgan, "you'll find out the kind of calculations he needs, that he can't get anywhere else. That'll be the kind he needs from you."
"Hm," said Logan. He blew a smoke-ring, thoughtfully. "Where do you use calculations in space-travel?"
"Everywhere," said Bors. "But we've computers for it. And they're quite adequate."
Logan shrugged. "Then what do you need me for?"
"You tell me!" said Bors, nettled. "Certainly we don't need calculations for space-travel. We've no long journey in mind. We're simply going to go out and do some fighting when the Mekinese fleet gets here."
"What calculations do you use in space-fighting?"
"Courses and distances," said Bors. He could see no sense in this, but he went on. "Allowing for acceleration and deceleration in setting our missiles on targets. Allowing for the motion of the targets. Again we have computers for this. In practice they're too good! If we send a missile at a Mekinese ship, they set a computer on it, and it computes a course for a counter-missile which explodes and destroys our missile when it's within a certain distance of it."
"Then your missile doesn't hit," said Logan.
"All too often, it doesn't," admitted Bors.
"If they send a hundred missiles at us, they're cancelled out if we send a hundred to destroy them. Unfortunately, if they send more than we can counter, we get wiped out."