spoke of 'the Machine,' Colonel?"

"The law of Mars is the most rigidly systematized in the solar system," Colonel Montgomery replied. "Several millions of years ago, a bright Martie got the idea that it was unwise to trust mortal judges with a problem so important as the sentencing of criminals. So he called in a lot of mechanics—ancient Mars had some pretty fair engineers, though they never discovered electricity—and had them build a judging-machine. Since the climate is right and the machine was built of a stainless steel, it's still here and still being used. It's an enormous thing; spreads over half-an-acre in a big amphitheatre in the center of town. It's an analogue computer, rather clumsy by terrestrial standards, but nevertheless well-built. You know the principles of analogue calculators. Instead of working with coded, position-valued impulses, like the electronic astrogator on our rockets, the mechanical machines solve problems by making use of the physical analogies between cogs and gears and differentials."

"Do you mean that we're going to be punished or set free by a bunch of clockwork, colonel?" Kim asked.

"In a way, yes. The Machine is a most impersonal judge. That fact won't help you, though. Martian legal code is strict about killing, there being some thirty-odd degrees of murder, ranging in seriousness from a 'simple homicide to secure a mate,' the punishment for which is death by dehydration, most often; to 'killing to secure for oneself material benefits,' for which there exist more subtle forms of death by torture."

"Like getting a small-head-size in a vise?" Captain Barnaby grunted.

"That's the usual punishment for murder in the seventeenth degree, where the crime is usually 'killing for spiritual advancement.' You see, each crime is given special study by the Machine. A great many factors are fed in, collated with certain constants within the Machine, processed through several dozen stages, and finally combined into a single number, which represents the punishment called for. By the way," the colonel studied the back of Rhinklav'n's head, "no consideration of the truthfulness of the 'defendant' is entered into the Machine. It is presumed that should a man say that he did not commit a crime, he didn't; if he did, he'd admit it. Martians have a peculiar character defect that prevents them from lying."

"A defect from which we humans are fortunately free," Kim grinned.

"That's no out," Colonel 

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