When Tio Holtzman discovered a calculational error in the design of his failed alloy-resonance generator, he flew into a righteous rage. He had been sitting in his private study, surrounded by the new glowglobes Norma had designed, going through the tedious mathematics himself.

He had not asked the young woman to study the details of the catastrophic accident, because he was afraid she might pinpoint a genuine design flaw, and that would have been too embarrassing. All along, Norma had said the device would not work as predicted, and she had been correct. Damn her!

As a consequence, the inventor had spent hours figuring and refiguring the work that had been done by the roomful of slave solvers. And he did indeed uncover three minor mistakes. Objectively speaking, even if the arithmetic had been done correctly, his original design would have remained unworkable . . . but that was beside the point, he decided.

The solvers had committed inexcusable errors, regardless of their relevance to the overall question. It was certainly enough to shift the blame from him.

Holtzman marched into the hushed room where human calculators sat at tables, churning through equation iterations that Norma had given them. He halted inside the doorway and surveyed them as they worked at their calculation devices and made entries on pads.

“You will cease activity now! Henceforth, all of your work will be closely monitored and verified, no matter how long it takes. I will go through each paper, study every solution you derive. Your errors have set back our defense of humanity by months and perhaps longer, and I am not pleased.”

The slaves hung their heads, did not make eye contact.

But Holtzman was just getting started. “Haven’t I been a good master to you? Haven’t I given you a better life than you would have had in the cane fields or on the riverbanks? And this is how you repay me?”

The new solvers looked at him, terror on their young faces. The older workers, the ones who had not died from the fever, sagged with gloom.

“How many other errors have you made? How many other tests are likely to be ruined by your incompetence?” He glared at the slaves, then grabbed a paper at random. “Henceforth, if I find any intentional mistakes, you will be executed— mark my words! Since we are working on a war program, that would be sabotage and sedition.”

Norma hurried into the room, taking uneven strides on her short legs. “What is this, Savant Holtzman?”

He held up a sheet marked with his own scribblings. “I have found serious mistakes in my alloy-resonance calculations. We can no longer rely on their work. You and I, Norma, will double-check everything they do. Right now.”

Her blunt-featured face looked alarmed. She bowed slightly. “As you wish.”

“In the meantime,” Holtzman said, gathering up papers, “I am cutting your rations in half. Why should I keep your bellies full while you undermine our efforts to defeat the enemy?” The slaves groaned. Holtzman summoned his Dragoon guards to usher them away. “I will not abide such sloppiness. Too much is at stake.”

When they were alone in the room, he and Norma sat down and began to study the new calculations, one sheet at a time. The Rossak woman looked at the scientist as if he were overreacting, but he simply glowered and bent over a table that had papers spread all over it.

Eventually they did find a mathematical mistake made by one of the new young solvers named Aliid. Worse, the error had not been caught by his partner as it should have been, a boy named Ishmael.

“See, it would have been another expensive disaster! They must be plotting against us.”

“They are just boys, Savant,” Norma said. “I am surprised they are capable of these mathematics at all.”

Ignoring her, Holtzman ordered the Dragoon guards to summon the two young men— then, as an afterthought he called for all the solvers to file back into the room. As the terrified youths were dragged forward, he hurled accusations at the pair, who did not look capable of sophisticated mathematical sabotage. “Do you boys consider this a joke, a game? Omnius could destroy us at any time. This invention just might have saved us!”

Norma watched the inventor, not sure if he knew much about her project. But he was full of self-righteousness now. “When planting clam seedlings or cutting cane, an error of a few centimeters doesn’t matter. But this”— he waved the calculations in front of their faces—”this could have meant the destruction of an entire battle fleet!”

He swept his angry gaze around the group of solvers. “Reduced rations should straighten you out. Maybe with your stomachs growling, you can focus on your work.” He turned to the boys, who cringed at his anger. “And you two have lost your opportunity to work with me at all. I will ask Lord Bludd to assign you to hard labor instead. Perhaps there, you can prove your worth, because you are certainly of no value to me.”

He turned to Norma, grumbling under his breath. “I’d toss the whole lot of them out, but then I’d lose even more time training replacements.”

Deaf to their groans of disappointment, not wishing to entertain any appeals, the infuriated scientist strode out of the room, leaving Norma to stare after him in his outburst.

A pair of burly Dragoon guards marched forward to take Ishmael and Aliid away.