“Yes, Dr. Zinder?” the voice of the computer that was in the walls around them replied; a pleasant, professional, and personable tenor.

“You have noted that the subject does not know we have in any way altered her?”

“Noted,” Obie admitted. “Do you wish her to? The equations are not quite as stable in that situation but they’ll hold up.”

“No, no, that’s all right,” Zinder responded quickly. “How about attitude without physical change? Is that possible?”

“A much more minor alteration,” the computer told him. “But, also, because of that, more easily and quickly reversible.”

Zinder nodded. “All right, then, Obie. We translated a horse into the system matrix, so you have it completely and you have Zetta completely.”

“We don’t have the horse any more,” Obie pointed out.

Zinder sighed impatiently. “But you have the data on it, don’t you? That’s where the tail came from, right?”

“Yes, Doctor,” Obie replied. “I see now that you were being rhetorical again. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Zinder assured the machine. “Look, let’s try for something bigger. Do you have the term and concept centaur in your memory?”

Obie thought for perhaps a millisecond. “Yes. But it will take some work to turn her into one. After all, there is the matter of internal plumbing, cardiovascular systems, additional nerve connections, and the like.”

“But you can do it?” Zinder prompted, somewhat surprised.

“Oh, yes.”

“How long?”

“Two or three minutes,” Obie replied.

Zinder leaned over. The girl with the tail was pacing a little nervously on the podium, looking quite uncomfortable.

“Assistant Halib! Please stop that pacing and return to the center of the disk!” he reproved her. “We’re about ready, and you did volunteer for this.”

She sighed. “Sorry, Doctor,” she responded and stood on the center mark.