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. There a youngster at a wicket sold us two
tickets for two crowns forty, told us that the next tour would start in a few
minutes, and let us into an enclosure, a waiting lounge with benches and
opportunities to gamble against machines. Ten or a dozen tourists were waiting;
most of the males wore fezzes.
When at last we started, an hour later, there were nineteen or twenty of
us, herded by a uniformed guide-or guard; he wore a cop's shield. We made a long
circuit on foot of that enormous complex, a dull and endless trip. At each pause
our guide gave a memorized spiel-perhaps not too well memorized, as I could spot
errors, even though I am not a communications-control engineer.
But I did not jump on these slips. Instead I made a nuisance of myself in
accordance with earlier coaching by my fellow conspirator.
At one stop our guide explained that engineering control was decentralized
all over Luna both geographically and by functions-air, sewage, communications,
fresh water, transportation, et cetera-but was monitored from here by the
technicians you see at those consoles. I interrupted him.
"My good man, I think you must be new on this job. The Encyclopedia
Britannica explains clearly how one giant computer handles everything on the
Moon. That's what we've come to see. Not backs of necks of junior clerks sitting
at monitors. So let's see it. The giant computer
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