Mark. "Now, I've been thinking: if we could increase the demand for Tigers—"
"There's one answer," said George quietly. "One way we might pull out of this whole thing and find ourselves on top."
Hugh Wilkinson looked at him, the bushy brows heavy over narrowed eyes. "What's that way?" he said.
"You've got to gamble," George replied. "Gamble the whole yard, everything you've built up—there'd be no starting over again if you lost. There wouldn't be anything left to start with, except your bare hands."
"It wouldn't be the first time I was in such a fix," said Hugh. "What's your answer?"
"Sign the contract. Go ahead and build standard 62's, modified only in the customary manner to adapt, for standard environmental requirements."
"Leave the control room in the nose?" cried Mark.
George nodded. "Leave the control room in the nose."
"And where would that put us when the Ragalians found we hadn't built according to specifications?"
"That's the gamble we take. They'd either buy them the way we built—or we'd be stuck with a hundred H-62's on our hands, representing the entire asets that Wilkinson Spacecraft owns and could borrow or steal."
"You're crazy!" Mark exclaimed.
"Let's have it," Hugh demanded, "Either put up or shut up!"
George unrolled the charts he'd recorded aboard the spaceship. For an hour he explained carefully all his observations and conclusions regarding Sleth Forander. He told of Dr. Nat Bergstrom's comment on the recorded data.
"It's as clear a case of neurosis as you'll ever hope to find," George concluded. "It's not only a neurosis in Sleth Forander himself, but in his entire race. At one time it may have had distinct survival value, but not any more. It's a holdover from a reaction determined ages ago. Today it's obsolete, and if that isn't neurosis, I don't know what is. Of course I'm only an engineer," he added apologetically, "and my only purpose is in selling spaceships, but I'd stake my reputation on this analysis."
"You're asking a lot more than that," said Hugh dryly. "You're asking me to stake Wilkinson Spacecraft."
George shook his head. "No—I'm not asking. I'm merely pointing out what could be done. If I owned the yard I doubt I'd have guts enough to make the gamble. But I don't own it."
"Suppose we agree it is neurosis? Where do we go from there?"
"While we're building the standard models, we cure the neurosis in Sleth Forander. He'll have the ships sent home and do likewise for the rest of his people—or